Chapter 4
"Can't recognize them," Joan commented. "But I'm tired. I'll just watch for a while and catch up later."
Carl nodded. He only half-heard her, since the tall golden blonde who moved like a model grabbed his attention. He kept looking at her as she gazed around the room, and she stopped still when she caught sight of him.
She'd been chatting with Fran. A slight younger man hovered behind her, and Carl couldn't see much of him. He didn't want to, anyway. Seeing him, Fran waved him over.
"Hi, Carl. This is Sophie Garnet. She usually parties with the high-class set. You know, uptown."
Carl grinned as he took Sophie's hand. Fran was kidding, of course. Her guests were professionals who happened to live in a different part of the city, and fifty thousand a year was the lowest salary present.
Fran continued, "So, Sophie, are you just here for fun?"
"Come on, stop being so polite," Sophie laughed. "I have some business.. . . " She paused to gaze around the room. "But of course, I'll have some time for pleasure."
Before Fran could reply, a short, buxom woman who appeared to be in her early thirties bounded up to them. "Sophie, you did it," she said, her eyes flashing with delight.
"Oh, Emily, I hate I-told-you-sos, but you're forcing me," Sophie wailed. "See, here I am, and you didn't believe I'd show up at something like this."
"Did you know Sophie knew me?" Fran asked, grinning.
"Never thought to ask," Emily chuckled. "Hi, Carl. How's it hanging?"
Suppressing his laughter, Carl replied, "See for yourself, sweetheart."
"Later, dovey. I have business to attend to."
Turning to Sophie, the buxom woman looked her up and down suspiciously. "Wait a minute. Just walking into one of these doesn't mean all that much. You're certainly sophisticated enough not to be shocked, but actually participating is another matter. You don't look like you're exactly ready to party."
Sophie purred, "My dear, I just arrived and I haven't had time to undress. Frankly, I'm more into the spirit of things than you are-I'd be willing to eat you out in front of everyone, and I'm not sure how well you'd take to that."
"Expose yourself properly and we'll see," Emily responded.
Neither woman heard Carl excuse himself. Sophie darted into the bedroom, and Emily hovered around by the doorway. A slender redhead stepped up to Carl, gripped his cock and said her name was Jean.
"Pleased to meet you," Carl replied, sliding his hands under her flat, hanging breasts. He stretched his thumbs up to her nipples.
"I like to do it on the couch," Jean said, gesturing with her chin to the currently-unoccupied sofa.
A thought of Sophie Garnet lingered in Carl's mind as they quickly sprinted over to the sofa. The redhead immediately laid down on the thick, carefully-covered cushions. She rested her head on the arm rest and threw one leg up over the back.
"Did I mention that I won't fuck anyone who won't eat me out?" she queried as Carl stepped over.
"No, and there was really no need to," Carl said. "Did I mention I prefer as perfect a position as possible?"
Jean cast him an odd look, then a look of understanding flashed across her features when Carl dropped to his knees and grabbed the leg that was hanging off the couch. Draping it over his shoulder, he charged between her thighs and planted his mouth firmly over her slit.
"No need at all," she half-whispered, pressing her heel against his back.
Carl had the flat of his tongue pressed against her slit, and he turned it and slipped it in. At the same time, he shoved his hands under her butt cheeks and squeezed hard.
"Yeah, my ass," Jean groaned, churning her hips and pressing her cunt more firmly against his face.
Knowing exactly how she liked it-how he liked it, too-he loosened his grip and let his hands ride down her ass crack. A fingertip found her anus, and he rubbed the circumference of the tight ring of flesh before pushing his finger in.
Her reaction was immediate and intense. Releasing a high-pitched whine, she jerked her ass up then brought it down hard on his hand. This sent Carl's finger further in, and he began a slow, steady in-and-out rhythm as he slowly dragged his tongue out of her pussy.
Carl went right for her clit, circling the stiff love button and evoking another shrill screech from her. Then she was cumming, bucking against him and soaking his lips and chin with her love fluids. Then, amazingly, she stiffened her whole body and lifted herself up, shoulder blades and buttocks rising in the same motion. Carl's finger popped out of her ass-hole, and her pussy lips dragged across his chin as she pulled away.
"Just sit there for a minute," Jean said, darting over to the table to get a condom.
She unwrapped it as she stepped back and placed the rubber disk over her lips. Carl sat as she'd asked him to, his stiff dick angling up toward him. Jean knelt as she approached, deftly seizing his prick and pressing the condom over his cockhead. With what had to be a smooth, practiced motion, she slid the condom down the length of his cock shaft. When the rubber rim touched his pubic hair, she tightened the grip of her mouth and sucked hard.
His cock throbbed a little, but showed no sign of being even close to climax. She rolled her eyes up at his face. His expression was bemused and totally casual, nothing like the looks on the faces of the other men she'd fellated.
"You'd better take a seat up here," Carl advised. "The show's about to begin."
"What show?" Jean turned her back to him and lowered her ass. He put one hand on a bare hip and the other on his prick, aiming his wet, rubber-covered prickhead at her pussy slit. "Let me help," she said, sighting between her spread thighs to help guide his cock shaft.
When his dickhead popped between her cunt lips, she leaned forward and pushed back. His cock slid in neatly, and she slowly sat until her buttocks were touching his thighs. Sophie stepped out, completely naked, and Carl couldn't help gasping at the sight of her nudity. Those small pyramids of breasts.. .her model's figure.. . .
With a start, he realized he'd been ignoring Jean. She gasped her admiration as well, and leaned back to whisper, "She's gorgeous!" Carl grunted back an "oh, yes," and shoved his hands under Jean's tits.
"Okay," Emily announced, hands on her hips and her feet wide apart, her knees slightly bent as if she was riding a horse. "You've passed the nudity test. Now, let's see if you can eat me right here."
Several gasps and murmurs of admiration arose as Sophie sauntered across the room. Carl and Jean weren't her only admirers, obviously. More sighs arose as she turned, displaying her pert, upraised buttocks. Emily was doing her best to look like she'd issued a serious challenge, but anyone close enough to see the large, flat-tipped brown nipples jutting out from her large half-spheres of breasts could see that she was aroused.
Sophie paused to gaze around the room, then she stepped right up to Emily and threw her arms around the short, buxom woman's shoulders. Sophie thrust forward with her hips at the same time, meshing the thin blonde strip of her pussy hair with Emily's abundant black cunt bush.
Small pyramid-shaped breasts sank into soft round ones as the women embraced. Nudging Emily's head back with her chin, Sophie pressed her lips against the buxom woman's mouth. Emily hesitated for a moment, then parted her teeth to allow Sophie's tongue entrance.
Sophie's long, slender fingers slid down Emily's back, stopping at the top of the woman's ample ass cheeks. The two large half-melons quivered as Sophie lightly ran her fingers over them. She hunched down, gripping each butt cheek firmly in the center, then she dropped to her knees and tucked her head between Emily's thighs.
"Oh, you win," Emily moaned softly as Sophie's tongue slithered into her cunt. The buxom woman hunched down, jerking her twat back and forth, rubbing her cunt lips tightly against Sophie's mouth as the tall blonde pulled back her tongue. As she ran the tip around the folds and wrinkles of Emily's sex flesh, she spread the shorter woman's buttocks apart and plunged one hand into her crack.
"Rub me there, yes," Emily moaned. Sophie sucked her cunt lips, kneading them with her mouth before gently releasing them and turning her oral attention to the top of Emily's pussy slit. The bit of skin over the buxom woman's clit moved aside, and the hardness of her cum button pressed against Sophie's pleasuring tongue flesh.
Jean, sitting naked on Carl's naked lap with his prick deep in her pussy, leaned over for a better view. Sophie and Emily were standing at a slight angle to the couch Jean and Carl were on, so she could see both front and back. As she moved, his cock made contact with that special spot in her pussy.
Immediately, Jean forgot about the lesbian show in front of her. She started sliding rapidly back and forth, leaning over and gripping Carl's knees as her pussy exploded in orgasm. Her cunt walls did their mad dance, her juices oozed out over his balls, and he humped in rhythm with her movements. Uttering a shriek that momentarily drew everyone's attention to the couch. Leaping off him, she dropped to the rug in a crouch, breathing hard.
Shiny wet with her cum, Carl's cock bobbed around. Sliding back on the couch, he snapped off the condom then leaned against the backrest to watch as Emily climaxed, making hip-circling motions all over Sophie's face.
"Uncle," Emily cried out, bending over to push Sophie out from between her legs. "Any more of that, Sophie, and I'll literally explode. like I said, you win, hands down!"
Meanwhile, Carl still hadn't cum.
Joan was the first to notice, and she quickly informed Fran. Sophie had stepped over to see what the huddle was about.
"I think I can fix that," the tall blonde said, absently fingering her pussy lips. "A taste of pussy really gets me horny."
With Joan and Fran trailing behind her, Sophie walked to Carl and gazed critically at his softening cock.
"A very interesting instrument," Sophie murmured, reaching down to gingerly tap the underside of Carl's cockhead.
Again, the thrill of being a sex toy filled him. He remained in place, his back against the backrest and his legs, only slightly spread, flat on the floor. Sophie tightened the grip of her fingers, slowly drawing them up the length of his cock shaft. His prick returned to full hardness, and Fran handed Sophie the condom she'd thoughtfully brought over. With only one glance at his prick, Sophie slipped the condom on.
Rising, she stepped back and gazed down at him like a scientist studying a specimen. "Let's see.. .first a little of this."
Dropping to a deep crouch, she gripped the bottom of his cock shaft with two fingers and opened her mouth wide. Carl stiffened up automatically, expecting to feel warm wetness envelope his protected prick. But, just as Sophie brought his cockhead to within a fraction of an inch of her sensuous lips, she moved his prick to one side and jammed the tip of the head against her cheek.
She nuzzled his penis for a moment or two, squeezing down on his cock shaft and releasing her grip in a slow, steady series of motions. Feeling the member throb slightly, she thrust it between her lips and closed her mouth over it.
For the first time that night, a grunt of surprise came from Carl. He felt cum rise in the base of his cock shaft, and he immediately drew in as deep a breath as he could take. Sophie started sucking, at the same time working her head around. The faster she sucked, the more Carl tightened his body until she yanked his prick out of her mouth.
"This is a very serious case," she laughed, extending a hand to help Carl to his feet.
As he rose off the couch, she yanked him towards her and guided his cock between her thighs. Bending her knees, she tucked his cockhead into her slit and threw both arms around him.
"Now, push," she said hoarsely, groping her way down his back to his ass cheeks. Carl thrust up, shuddering at the feel of her tight pussy walls seizing his latex-covered hard-on.
One of her fingers zeroed in on his anus as they began humping together. He found her butt, at the same time trying to locate her G-spot with his cockhead. For him, it wasn't a contest, if it ever had been. He'd wanted to fuck the woman from the moment she'd come in, before he'd even seen her undressed. Now he was doing it, and he couldn't imagine not cumming.
Of course, he had to get her off, first. He slid a hand between their pressed-together bodies, and she leaned back a little to give him more room to move. Cupping his hand over a small cone-shaped breast, he squeezed down while he continued to navigate the interior of her cunt with his sheathed hard-on.
He drew his hand back, tenting his fingers and taking her small pink nipple between two fingertips. She leaned her head back, moaning softly and closing her eyes. Sophie made slight thrusting movements with her chest, then opened her eyes in surprise as the grip of his finger abruptly vanished.
A moment later, she felt his sweaty palm traverse the smooth plane of her abdomen. Since she was almost bald down there, it was easy for Carl to find her clit. The thin blonde strip of her cunt hair felt soft against the skin of his hand as he maneuvered two fingers athwart her clitoris in its protective hood.
Carl gripped only slightly, careful not to squeeze too hard and thus desensitize her there. He began a very slow, almost imperceptible back-and-forth stroking motion, matching it to his in-out strokes in her pussy. Feeling her cunt start to churn around his dick, he shoved it all the way in and picked up the pace of his clit stroking. Sophie shut her eyes tightly and began a series of jerky up-and-down movements, clutching Carl's back hard enough to leave finger marks.
Just when he thought the cum was about to rise in his cock shaft, just when he thought he would find release with the woman he most desired that particular evening, she staggered back and knocked his cock out of her pussy.
Sinking slowly to the floor, she took a series of long, deep breaths. "Would you believe this?" she said loudly. "He still hasn't cum."
"Looks like you lost this round," Joan smirked.
"Oh, really? I'm glad you said 'round,'" Sophie retorted. "Because my cunt and I are good and ready for another go."
Hauling herself to her feet, she looked Carl in the eye and pointed to the rug. "On your back, please, now," she said quietly.
Carl stretched out, his stiff dick bobbing around as Sophie planted a bare foot against either hip. She stared down at him for a long moment, then she abruptly dropped into a low crouch, at the same time gripping his cock.
Her cunt slit plunked down on the rubber-coated tip of the head. She shrugged off Carl's suggestion that they try a new rubber and gripped his cock shaft hard. Giving it a few quick strokes, she shoved the head into her slit and sat down.
His prick immediately rode into her pussy. In this position she could do what she couldn't while standing up, work her cunt muscles like massaging hands. She humped up and down rapidly to heighten the effect, and all Carl could do was grip the rug and groan as he felt his orgasm so steadily approach.
Sophie squeezed a little tighter and humped a little faster, then Carl let out a groan that could be heard all over the apartment, if not in the hallway, and she flipped him over, keeping his cock in place. He started pumping madly as his cum flooded the condom, clutching the rug and groaning.
It seemed like he would go on spurting forever, like the wild rushes of pleasure would never stop invading his body. Gradually, they diminished. His cum spurts slowed, then one final strand shot out. Exhausted, he collapsed on top of Sophie and let his softening prick flop out of her pussy.
Pulling herself along like a swimmer doing the backstroke, Sophie got out from under him. Carl lay flat on his back, breathing hard. Sophie gently rolled him over, then gingerly eased the spent rubber off his cock.
"I did it," she cried out, holding the used condom up. "See? That's his cum in here."
"Bravo, uh, Sophie, right?" Joan said.
"Sophie," the tall blonde replied.
Fran stepped up, grinning. "I guess you're our champion cock drainer now."
Sophie shrugged. "Oh, I've been called that.
A low groan from Carl turned Fran's attention to his still-prostrate form.
"I'm getting an idea," she smiled slyly, letting her gaze rove from Sophie then back to Carl.
"I say natural," Joe declared, plunking his water cup down on the convenience table by the water cooler. "They just seem natural, that's all."
Jack squinted doubtfully. "They don't grow that big too often," he mused.
"Yeah, but it happens," Jim added. "I met this redhead last year at Club Carib-the adult beach, guys, where you can see everything-and she had bigger ones that had to be natural."
They were very junior executives, three months out of the training class they'd attended together and not quite past the transition from college life to the world of work. Hearing the click-clack of high heels, Jim peeked out the doorway of the break room.
"Cold weather warning, guys," he whispered. As fast as if they were cartoon characters, the three of them scooped their paperwork off the top of the water cooler and huddled together.
For men with no training as actors, they did a very good job of looking like they were having a conference about their work. A moment later, the senior executive walked by. A very prim-looking hat covered her red hair, which was tied back in a bun. The cut of her conservative business suit was severe enough to make them wince, and opaque panty hose effectively concealed the sensuously creamy white of her legs.
Not the shape, though. Had they been more experienced, more sophisticated, they would have appreciated the sculpture like perfection of her legs. But they were new on the job, new to the world, and they could only think of her as an authority figure. Maura nodded to them and continued down the hall.
"I wonder if she's hotter than she looks," Jack mused.
"Hey, Ms. Jameison can hear you think that, I'd bet on it," Joe laughed.
"Maura Jameison.. .yeah." Joe remembered how she carried herself while lecturing at one of their orientation sessions. "That could be a horror story, some poor fuck trying to come on to her here."
"He'd have his head chopped off," Jack said solemnly.
"No," Joe corrected. "He'll just wish it had been."
She'd heard the shuffling of feet and rustling of papers, and she knew they were staging a scene for her benefit. Maura smiled as she stepped into her office suite. Brand-new male executives almost always acted that way. The women didn't.. .the specter of the "glass ceiling" still hung over this part of the business world, and if they'd been female, they really would have been having a conference.
Maura passed her secretary's desk and picked up her messages, wishing she could let her gaze linger over the pert brunette. She didn't dare, though, for reasons of indulgence as well as pure business sense. She was well-aware of her reputation as the "ice lady," and she relished it. It was good cover, too-no one would suspect that an "ice lady" indulged in multiple-partner sex.
So, as delicious as the twenty-one-year-old secretary looked, Maura could never divulge the slightest hint of her attraction. She had nothing to complain about, she told herself-she always got all the sex she wanted, and sometimes even more. Besides, the girl might be totally heterosexual, and a very unpleasant situation could arise.
The secretary also reminded her that she had no luncheon appointments. Maura breathed a silent sigh of relief at that, feeling like she'd been to one meeting too many. An hour later, feeling hungry, she asked the secretary to call her a car.
She decided to really get away from it and directed the driver to a restaurant downtown, where she was sure she wouldn't run into any business acquaintances. A quiet, leisurely meal alone was just what she needed, she thought, gazing out the window.
As always, the place was crowded. A very apologetic waiter told her that there weren't any empty tables, but that she wouldn't have to wait long.
Meanwhile, several blocks away, on the twenty-second floor of an office building, Carl Farer was talking to two of his junior executives. His tone was even, but they knew he wasn't too happy with what they'd done that morning.
"To make this short, since I'm going to lunch," he said, just a touch of anger in his voice, "I'll expect to see this work-up done right and on my desk."
The two junior executives went back to their cubicle. Carl passed by about five minutes later, and they didn't look up until he was a good distance down the long corridor.
"Yes, sir!" One of them muttered. "Do you think he was in the service?"
"Yeah, he was," his colleague responded. "I know what you mean-like he still is."
"You can take the boy out of the army.. . . "
The second one replied, "I wonder what he does for fun."
"I don't know. Maybe he goes to orgies."
"Yeah. Right."
"Or maybe he reads correctly-done reports."
"That's more like it."
Chuckling, they went back to work. As Carl left the building, he dismissed thoughts of the job from his mind and concentrated on his upcoming vacation. He was booked for a climb several states away, and he could almost feel the press of strong rope against his climbing gloves as he proceeded down the street.
The restaurant was crowded, and he knew before the head waiter told him that he'd have to wait for a table. He scanned the faces of the people waiting, hoping that there was no one there he knew.
Then he saw her.
For an instant, he thought the conservatively-dressed redhead was an old acquaintance and lust partner. Then he realized he'd never met her and that he felt an attraction that went way beyond the sexual. He also realized he was staring and quickly turned his gaze away as he tried to think of some smooth way to introduce himself.
Her intuition told her that someone was scrutinizing her. Maura turned around just in time to see the tall man with sandy blond hair avert her gaze. He certainly didn't look like a weirdo.. .in fact, there was something about him.. . .
Seized with a sudden urge to learn more about him, telling herself it had been too long since she'd acted on impulse, she stepped up to the waiter. Gesturing to Carl, she said she'd share a table with him. The waiter cast her a questioning look. She fished a twenty out of her purse, and he smiled and told her it would only be a minute or two. Thirty seconds later, he was ushering her to a small table for two in a quiet corner.
As she seated herself, the waiter rushed back and signaled to Carl. "A lady wishes you to share her table," he said in his slightly-imperfect English.
Wondering if this was going to turn into a business lunch after all, he followed the waiter across the crowded floor to where Maura was sitting. Catching sight of her, Carl almost froze in his tracks, but recovered in time to smile as he seated himself across the table from her.
"Hi, I guess-" he began.
"No, we haven't met," Maura smiled. "I caught you looking at me, and I thought it was only fair that I get a chance to look at you. Besides, I was in a hurry to get a table."
"Ulterior motives," he chuckled. "Well, I admit it. I was looking at you. My name's Carl Farer, by the way."
"Maura Jameison. Well, we have the table. Now, let's see.. . . " She squinted at him. "You're in finance of some kind, right."
"Close," Carl replied. "I sell technical shares.. . I'm in charge of salespeople, actually. Let's see.. . . " He gazed at what he could see of her body, feeling the first stirrings of sexual attraction. Her conservative attire suggested to him that he move very slowly. "You're in some sort of finance, no, I'd say numbers work."
"Very good," Maura said. "I'm an executive statistician. Also, math is a hobby of mine."
"So, you like to curl up with-"
The waiter stepped up, asking if they wanted drinks. Maura hadn't planned on having a drink, and neither had Carl.. . . "I'll take a Bloody Mary," Maura told him. "Same for me," Carl replied.
"Curl up with what?" Maura asked, feeling that special tingling in her lower body. She toyed briefly with the thought of kicking off a shoe and planting a foot on his chair to rub his cock through his pants, but the conservative cut of his suit warned her off.
He carried himself rather stiffly, if that was the right word. Maybe he was in the military.. .the more she thought about him, the more interesting he became to her.
"I was going to say, a math problem," Carl chuckled. "Your hobby." His interest in her was growing as quickly as her interest in him.
"Oh, sometimes," Maura smiled. "But that's not all I do to relax. By the way, do you have a hobby, or do you just sit around counting stocks?"
"I don't count stocks at all," Carl laughed. "What I do is a hobby, now. I've done it for money, too, though."
"Is this something mysterious?" Maura said, teasingly.
She was fighting to control her voice tone and her words. That tingling was getting stronger, and she was fairly sure he'd react negatively to any overtly sexual behavior on her part.
"No, just dangerous, to some people, and foolhardy to others. Mountain climbing, hiking and camping. Canoe, too."
Beaming with delight, Maura replied, "Those are my kinds of sports!"