I sat in the waiting room of the law office, nervously picking at my nails. I had just graduated and had received a certificate in administration from the local community college and this would be my first full-time job. My friend Bonnie had made a recommendation, for which I was grateful, but I couldn’t seem to get her advice out of my mind; “Just remember to keep an open mind. I know you’ll love this job!”
…Keep an open mind? That seemed a bit of an odd comment, considering I was just here for an Office Administration job. I shrugged it off as some well-intentioned, if misleading, advice, and looked around the waiting room.
It was a nice place, that’s for sure. Dark brown leather chairs, glass tables, and gleaming tile floors. The secretary sat behind a huge desk, and behind her on the wall a waterfall sculpture that descended into the pond below, where Koi and goldfish swam lazily. The thought of how much they must pay their employees excited me, while at the same time increasing my nervousness. I needed this job.
“Jennifer?” I heard the secretary call, “Mr. Theadore will see you now.”
I thanked the secretary and stood up, smoothing my pencil skirt to ensure there were no creases or wrinkles from sitting on the leather chair. She walked me down a hall and knocked on the door before opening it and ushering me in.
My first impression was that it was spectacular. A large window wall overlooked the city. Tall shelves of books decorated one side of the office, while the other side boasted loveseats, a couple of chairs, a small minibar, and a large TV screen inserted into the wall. Mr. Theadore stood behind his immense desk in front of the windowed wall.
“Miss Patterson? Thank you so much for coming. Welcome!” He extended his hand and I shook it. His handshake was firm but gentle and I was immediately put at ease.
Mr. Theodore looked to be in his late 40’s, but was still very attractive. Brown with some gray beginning to show at the temples. Eyes that sparkled and the sexiest dimples I had ever seen on a man.
“Thank you so much for seeing me,” I said, as I took the seat in front of his desk.
“Of course, Miss Patterson. You come very highly recommended by Miss Verona. How do you happen to know her?”
“Yes, Bonnie is my soccer coach at school. She’s a wonderful person and now that I’ve graduated, still one of my good friends. I think she worked here.”
“That’s true. A good worker, too. We’ll miss her, but of course, we understand that life goes on. Especially for an expectant Mother!” I nodded because that was my understanding as well.
Since I didn’t have anything approaching experience to talk about, He seemed interested in personal details, asking me questions such as; was I married? (I laughed out an amused no), In a relationship (still a no), Was I healthy (yes), What did I do to keep happy and physically fit (yoga and swimming)?
“Well, Miss Patterson, I have to say, I am impressed so far. I think you’d be an excellent fit here. I must ask you though, did Miss Collins give you any idea as to what this job entails?”
“In all honesty, Mr. Theadore, not really. She mentioned that it was a sort of administrative job and that I would help in any way I can. He smiled and said “I do not doubt that you are qualified, Miss Patterson. However, I have a feeling this job isn’t exactly what you think it might be.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I stammered a small “…oh?” and waited for him to continue.
“We here at Thomas & Thomas Law are the most prestigious firm in Albany. We deal primarily in sensitive cases for high-profile clients.”
I had certainly heard of the firm’s reputation before, so this was no surprise to me. He continued.
“Our lawyers are constantly and consistently under a great deal of stress. They work long hours and are under a lot of pressure.” I wondered where he was going with this.
“Your job is to help these men and women relax, by whatever means they need, to ensure they can do their best work and remain focused. We market this job as an ‘administrative’ job because there is no other title for it.”
“…Arrrrlright”, I said slowly. I was beginning to understand why Bonnie had told me to ‘keep an open mind’. “So, is it safe to assume you’re not just talking about bringing coffee and booking travel arrangements?”
He chuckled and said “No, Miss Patterson. There is a great deal more to it than that,” and at that moment I knew exactly what he was asking of me. He looked at me levelly and continued. “In recommending you, Miss Verona indicated that you would be not only open but well suited to the demands of the job. Was she in error about this?”
My mind immediately snapped back to a conversation that occurred one night in a local bar. I had run into Bonnie and we had adjourned to a booth and frankly had a few too many shooters. That was the night that Bonnie had told me that she was pregnant, and then with a slightly inebriated laugh told me that while she knew the exact day she’d been inseminated, the father was somewhat of a mystery since she’d taken on six guys that night.
Of course, I was shocked. I had never seen that side of Bonnie, but her confession, fueled by my own overindulgence in alcohol, resulted in me telling her about some of my own ‘slutty’ escapades with both men and women. I remembered that we had even made a toast to ‘sluts everywhere.’
His last question had jarred me. With shock, I realized that this was the job that Bonnie had before she left. I knew she loved this job, and when she told me how much she made, I wasn’t surprised. I was even less surprised now, knowing what the job truly entailed.
While Mr. Theadore waited, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind, the foremost of which was, what would my parents and friends say if they found out? On the other hand, I realized that I was now a grown, if yet very inexperienced young woman and this job appealed for a variety of reasons;! Likely I would have my own space, my schedule, I could say no whenever I wanted, and I was guaranteed these men were clean and healthy. Not to mention the fact that the simple idea of taking this job was beginning to turn me on — I could feel myself getting wet as I considered it.
Mr. Theadore sat patiently, watching me think. His air of warmth and openness made me feel at ease and comfortable. Knowing that this man would be my boss decided for me.
“Alright, Shall I take it you are offering me the job?” I asked.
“Indeed I am, Miss Patterson.”
“Then I accept.” He smiled as soon as I said it, and reached into one of the many drawers of his desk, withdrawing some papers which he handed to me.
I read through the documents. A lot of it was legalese, which I didn’t understand, but much of it I did. The more I read, the more I began to understand that I would be in control of my job and I felt confident I was making the right decision.
Mr. Thesdore grinned and stood up to shake my hand. “Welcome aboard, Miss Patterson. Would you like to see your office?”
I squealed with excitement and followed him down the hall. As we walked I looked around, getting quick glimpses into some of the lawyer’s offices and at the lawyers themselves. I only saw men, none looked older than 40 and all seemed fit and handsome. So far, I was looking forward to starting my job.
We stopped at a white door with a silver door handle, which contrasted with all the other deep mahogany doors in the building. He unlocked it with a key, which he then handed to me, and we walked inside. I gasped and my hand flew to my mouth. It was bigger and more beautiful than my studio apartment. In one corner — in front of the large window was a wooden desk. Beautiful plants were draped around the desk, and across from it was a long, suede couch, facing a TV inserted into the wall. Beside the couch was an overstuffed chair, and across from it a loveseat. A mini bar stood in one corner, next to a Credenza, and behind that, a large mirror. A short hallway led to a small bedroom with a huge king-size bed taking up the center, covered with a beautiful duvet and lots of pillows. Two large windows opened to a view of a nice park. Further on, the hallway led to a bathroom with a European walk-in shower. Under the sink were a pile of fluffy towels and lightly scented bath products.
I felt so giddy. I took off my suit jacket and threw it on top of the couch, and did a little spin in the middle of the room. “Yes, This is wonderful. I will be more than happy here.”
I walked toward him to shake his hand, but as I did, I noticed his eyes dropped to my chest and I realized that the blouse I was wearing was cut quite low, and without the cover provided by the jacket offered him a bountiful view of the upper slopes of my breasts.
I was quite turned on by the whirlwind series of events and realized that I had, myself, become aroused. The very idea that this job even existed had stimulated my pussy to lubricate and Mr. Theodore’s sexy dimples were getting to me. Plus, he was probably under great stress, was he not? I turned my back to him and began unbuttoning my blouse.
I slipped the blouse from my shoulders and flung it over the couch on top of my jacket. I turned and walked towards him. I tried to put on my most seductive face, and I hoped that my pencil skirt, heels, and my breasts, now covered only by a filmy bra were sufficient to turn his gaze from surprised to ‘hungry.’
“…Oh?” he stammered. I could tell he was unprepared for this and had not been expecting it. Even better. I stopped in front of him and confidently reached for his belt.
“Yes”, I whispered. “Would you like to put your cock in my mouth, Mr. Theadore? Perhaps, you can regard it as my thank you present.” I looked directly into his eyes as I undid his pants and let them fall to the floor. He groaned and stammered “Miss Patterson, you don’t have to… it’s not for me… I don’t need you to… ”
“Sssssh,” I whispered as I leaned in to kiss him lightly on the lips, as I freed his cock from his boxers. “I…I…um…” words were failing him, but I wasn’t listening anyway. The ‘slut’ in me already knew that I was in control. I dropped to my knees and pulled down his last barrier, freeing him completely. Mr. Theodore’s cock had only just begun to firm when I grasped it in my hand, but with my first touch, it jumped and I could feel the blood coursing through the veins.
I held him with one hand and massaged his balls with the other, while I altered my gaze between his face and his lengthening manhood. As any self-respecting slut knows, the anticipation is as powerful as the act, and I had developed a certain skill in both. When I finally touched him with my lips and dropped little kisses along the length of his shaft, I hoped he wouldn’t have a heart attack.
I had been sucking cocks for almost five years and had not only eliminated all of my early girlish mistakes but had become somewhat of a connoisseur when it came to teasing, arousing, and ultimately orgasming the male penis.
I began to use my tongue in tiny licks, working from the base to the tip, and then using broader strokes with the flat of my tongue. When I applied more pressure, he moaned and I saw his hands clenched into fists as a wave of pleasure jolted him.
I knew that eye contact was an important element in great blowjobs. A man needs to feel that his cock is being worshiped by the woman who has taken his most intimate body part into her mouth. It is not by touch alone that he achieves his greatest pleasure. He needs to know that I need him too. When I began to moan as well as suck, he gasped and dug his fingers into my hair.
“Yes, Miss Patterson…yes…” he moaned. I smiled and thought it was adorable how he still tried to maintain his professionalism even as I was giving him a blowjob.
I leaned back in and took his whole length in my mouth, slowly pulling back as I pressed my tongue into the base of his cock. He moaned again and whispered, “Oh… Jesus… Miss Patterson…”. I sat back and worked for my hand up and down his cock, and said “Mr. Theadore, right now, I am not Miss Patterson. I am that slut that causes your wet dreams. I believe you have something that I want, something that I desire, and I want you to spend it in my mouth.”.
I increased my rhythm and pressure, and his moans got louder and his breathing more frantic. I lifted my hands to circle the base of his cock, applying pressure as I sucked and licked. Once more I gently used my teeth on him, and that was all it took. He gasped again, dug his hands even harder into my hair, and growled “Yes, you slut. That’s what I like.” I obeyed, incredibly turned on at how quickly he changed from his persona of the professional boss to dirty-talking dominant. I continued to suck hard, using my tongue and my teeth to change the pressure on his cock. His knees began to buckle and I felt him hold on to my hair even tighter.
“Jesus fucking Christ, that feels so good. Don’t stop, you slut. Don’t you fucking stop.” I couldn’t help it if a few moans escaped my mouth as well.
“Yesss….” he growled. I looked up at him, and he was gazing down at me with an intensity that turned me on even more. “That’s right slut. Take all of it”. Then his voice dropped to a whisper as he began to buck his hips to shove his cock in and out of my mouth. “…beg for it.”
Please… please… your cum… I want your fucking cum.” I panted. I literally couldn’t think of anything dirtier to say. My face was wet with my saliva, my eyes stinging from how hard he was gripping my hair, but it only turned me on more. ” Please!”
.
“Mmm…Mmmmm…MMMMMMM!!!!!” He screamed into his balled fist as my mouth was instantly filled to the brim. His slimy salty cum erupted with a force that I wasn’t quite expecting. While he had stopped stroking into my mouth, content to just let his spasming penile muscles push his liquid treasure up the pipeline and onto my tongue, he gripped my hair tighter as my throat muscles worked to keep his load moving to the back of my mouth and down my throat.
After the last pulse, he pulled his, now too sensitive, cock from my mouth and just stood there panting, much as I sat there panting with cum still coating my lips and leaking from the corner of my mouth to pool on my chin.
Quietly, I got up and went to the washroom, returning with a damp washcloth. I gently wiped myself and did the same with him. Mr. Theadore put his pants back on, as I turned and put back on my blouse. When I finished, I walked him to the door of the office.
“Well, Miss Patterson,” he said, returning to a more business-appropriate tone, “I think you’ll fit in here.” He shook my hand, winked, and left my office, leaving me alone. I shut the door behind him and went and flipped on the couch. My jumbled thoughts could be summarized in two words… “Oh my!”
That evening I called Bonnie and told her that I’d accepted her old job, but when I started to explain what had happened, she interrupted and said, “No. Don’t tell me now.” Then she asked me to meet her at the same bar where my confession to her had started the whole thing.
I cannot begin to tell all that transpired in that conversation. We ended up in the same booth that I humorously began to refer to as “Our Confessional,” and not only did I describe the interview, but also my first blowjob in excruciating detail. For her part, Bonnie was all ears and was particularly impressed with my demonstration of boldness with Mr. Theadore. Although, she was quick to point out to me that his reported reticence in no way was representative of the man she knew who had fucked her on multiple occasions.
Bonnie also recited some of her experiences with the lawyers themselves and lauded a few for their stamina and/or imagination, while warning me about a couple, whose lovemaking verged a little too close to abuse. I made it a point to remember their names. There was one woman in the group and Bonnie said that she would be pleased if I could swing to that tune as well. I thanked Bonnie for her advice and, of course, her recommendation, and I eagerly awaited my first full day on the job.
When I arrived the following morning, it was apparent that word had gone out that Bonnie’s replacement was on board since I heard a knock on the white door to my office not long after I arrived for work. The lawyer’s name was Harrison, and he welcomed me warmly and even brought flowers. It ended up being a strange first encounter as his thing seemed to be mutual masturbation. While I’m not against this, my strong preference is skin-to-skin contact, and if that occurs inside my vagina, so much the better.
By the end of my first week, I had met, and either sucked or fucked, about half of the firm’s twenty lawyers. As Bonnie had indicated, a few not only had beautiful cocks, but knew how to use them for someone’s pleasure other than their own. The ones that availed themselves of my services that first week werep lucky, because I started my period the second week, so it was only blowjobs and handjobs for the latecomers. One of these, however, was Chris.
Chris was, I assumed, a nickname for Christina. The lone female attorney on the staff visited during that second week.
I much enjoyed pulling her panties down and burying my face in her soft and very wet pussy. I love the taste of women – so much different than men, and Chris seemed pleased that I looked into her eyes and vocalized that pleasure as my tongue was tiptoeing through her tulips. Afterward, we spent a couple of hours talking about my sexual experiences, and Chris seemed to be aroused as much by my words as she’d been by my mouth. Truthfully, I sensed a bit of envy in her and wondered if inside this outwardly professional woman lived a slut, just like me.
It wasn’t until I had been with the firm for almost a month that I met Steve Logan. At 35, he was one of the five senior partners, but by far the youngest. He was tall, about 6′ 2″, and very handsome and confident. I was told that he was the firm’s ‘go-to’ attorney when a case was particularly sticky or sensitive.
When Steve first knocked on my door, I was surprised that his interest wasn’t confined to my tits, pussy, and mouth, but also to me as a person. Oh, some of the others had shown a modicum of interest and we were evolving from clients to friends, but none to the degree I felt with Steve.
Even though all he had to do was just ask and I would have willingly spread my legs for him, Steve decided that he would seduce me. He invited me to dinner.
It was such a shock that I had to call Bonnie to get the scoop on this man. When we met at “The Confessional” that evening, she was of little help. The entire year she had worked there, Steve had been elsewhere. She’d only met him once and that was briefly and not sexually. I was on my own.
Steve took me to dinner at Ryan’s Wake, and we sat on the balcony with a gorgeous view of the Hudson River at sunset. The food and wine he chose were delicious and we spent a couple of hours learning about each other.
Yes, of course, he took me to his apartment and sensuously stripped me of all of my clothing. I hadn’t bothered with underwear, so when he unzipped my dress and it pooled around my ankles, I was left with my pearl necklace and gold bracelet as my only adornments. He was still fully dressed in an expensive suit when I felt his embrace and my naked body folded into his. The first kiss was electric and I was staggered by the taste of his lips and his breath. His overt masculinity was overloading all of my female circuits and I longed for him to possess me in any way that he wished.
Later in bed, we made love by candlelight and music. Yes, he had even thought of that. Never had I felt so adored and cherished as our hands caressed and explored each other’s naked bodies. I marveled at his well-defined muscles and rough skin and I yearned that he found equal pleasure in my softness and sensuous curves. My breasts and hard nipples seemed to be particularly attractive as he pinched and bit them to the point that pleasure and pain emerged and faded in equal measure.
I was so wet that when he lifted one of my legs, I almost didn’t feel his cock slip inside me until my vagina signaled that the invasion had already breached the gates. How does it feel to a woman to be slowly fucked for an hour? Before that night, I couldn’t have told you. But it was the most erotic, sensuous, and blissful experience of my life.
Steve’s wonderful cock moved in and out of me in a slow hypnotic rhythm that was dictated by the tempo of whatever music was playing, and oh! The combination of the two was transporting my mind to wonderful places I’d never been to.
Every so often Steve’s fingers would find my clit and rub it softly until I would be close, then he would stop. My frustration would peak as my arousal would subside, but then his fingers would return. The cycle repeated several times and as soon as I was just a few flicks away, he’d leave me, truly hot and bothered.
As minute after blissful minute ticked by, I couldn’t believe Steve’s stamina. No man had ever lasted so long once he was seated in my warmness, but there he was as I teetered on the edge of what was promising to be a massive orgasm. My gasps began to sound like sobs and I implored him, no, I begged him to take me over the edge. When once again his fingers began to create their magic, I held my breath, and then as I felt my arousal begin to crest, I closed my eyes and begged…”Please… Steve… close.. so close… Oh God! … Please … please… yes! yes! yes! Yessssss!” My brain exploded in fireworks and flashes of light, while my clitoris throbbed and sent tremors racing to all parts of my body. I felt him pull out of me and I curled up into a ball sobbing and crying out the wonderful relief I was feeling. I could feel Steve embrace me and his warmth of him was the perfect compliment to the pleasure echoing through the rest of my body. I was right. My orgasm had rolled over me like being hit by a train. It was inconceivable to me that my fragile body could have survived more pleasure than I was feeling at that moment.
I was far too sensitive for Steve to take his pleasure in my raw and still spasming pussy, so I finished him with my mouth. His cum was both salty and sweet, but perhaps my description is less than objective. In those minutes after my orgasm, I longed to share even a fraction of what I had experienced. His cock, spending into my mouth seemed to be such a small and inadequate display of the gratitude that I felt.
I spent that first night in the arms of a man that had taken all of my emotions and toyed with them to the point that I felt I couldn’t trust any of them. I just kept thinking and wondering… was I feeling the first pangs of real … real what? Why did my mind answer that question with just a word? One little word… the word, love!
The next morning, Steve dropped me at my apartment. Jennifer was a mess, and I needed a hot shower and clean clothes. I wouldn’t be to work on time and when I finally did, I refused all requests and fell asleep on the big King Sized bed. My dreams were filled with visions of Steve and myself. They were sexually erotic and when I awoke, my pussy felt like I had just peed my panties. Fortunately for me. I’d bought several pairs that I’d placed in the dresser. I was beginning to have second thoughts about my job, and all I could think of was Steve.
After that first date, he asked me out regularly. Although I had rationalized my job and continued to suck and fuck the other lawyers, I knew something had changed in my outlook. I certainly continued to enjoy the sex, including the occasional romp with Chris, but I knew that it was just different from fucking Steve. With him, we seemed joined in both body and spirit, and by our fourth date, I knew that I was head over heels in love with him.
My confession of these feelings to Steve one night resulted in a cascading series of events that changed my life forever.
I had been aware from the very beginning that my “job” at the firm was not a career step. At best it was a well compensated, detour into a sexual fantasy, and one that I had entered with eyes wide open, but I was beginning to tire of it. When I expressed this to Steve, he was wholly understanding and assured me that his interest in me and my welfare extended far beyond the joys of the bedroom. Three months later, he said he had two things he wanted to share with me.
The first, and as it turned out to be, the least important, was that he had found me another job. A client of his, who I think, owed Steve a BIG favor was willing to hire me as a buyer in his company.
The second was Steve telling me that he had fallen in love with me, and if we could agree on a few conditions, he wanted to marry me. I was so excited that I screamed “Yessss!” without even hearing what conditions he was talking about.
When he finally did. I admit that it caused me some pause. Steve wanted an ‘open’ marriage where he and I would both be able to take other lovers. He was adamant that he never wanted ‘cheating’ to be a part of our relationship, but he knew himself, and I suspected that he knew the ‘inner slut’ in me, and had decided to kill the beast up front. Steve himself had come from a broken home and visions of that experience were burned into his attitude about marriage, children, and family. From his point of view, there would be no children.
I did mull this for a while. I had never formulated anything that could be called a goal, but like most girls, I had grown up with the assumption that motherhood would be a part of my future, however, that came to be. But to be with Steve, I would need to give up that prospect. Was that something that I was truly willing to do? In the end, it was. Oh, I rationalized that perhaps adoption or something else could fill the void, but I was so truly in love, that it seemed a small sacrifice when compared to the prospect of spending the rest of my life with the man I adored.
A few weeks later. I submitted my resignation to Thomas & Thomas. I saved my last day for Chris, and not only did we share our bodies but spent several naked hours just taking woman to woman. She completely understood my motivations and she admitted that she, herself had eyes for Steve, but also admitted that she still wasn’t sure which was her sexual urges would push her. We both laughed at that little confession. I did suggest that she might apply for my job, as I heard there would soon be a vacancy. More laughter ensued.
Steve and I married in a quiet ceremony that was mostly attended by my family, and Jennifer Patterson became Jennifer Logan. We sent no invitations to anyone at Thomas & Thomas, and we settled into housekeeping in a 12th-floor condo with a great view of the Hudson River.
Soon I was hard at work, learning the ins and outs of buying fibers, fabrics, and finished clothing. My teacher was a gentleman named Ben, who had been doing the job for forty years, but was not only getting ready to retire but was becoming more and more of an impediment than an asset. The industry was changing rapidly and many of the suppliers that he’d developed relationships with over the years were being confronted by a legion of new competitors, many from Asia and South America. Ben was neither happy nor resilient. As a result, I was charged with sorting out the new players, while Ben contented himself with the familiar ones. This wasn’t going to end with ‘ they lived happily ever after.’
Unbeknownst to Ben, and anyone else, I was receiving some valuable coaching behind the scenes. Steve was a suburb negotiator, and he began teaching me the art. He told me that in a negotiation it was vital that you needed more information than your opponent had, and this meant that you not only had to ask a lot of questions, but you had to understand what the answers meant. I soon fell into the habit of telling him what I’d learned about the business that day, and he would pepper me with follow-up questions that I could immediately see were Important, but which I sheepishly admitted I hadn’t considered.
But I was learning, and the more we talked, the better I got at following the clues to lots of things I knew our suppliers wished that we didn’t know. The climax came when Ben and I vehemently disagreed about whom to let an important contract. We ended up in the President’s office and when I laid out what I knew and how I knew it, the contrast with Ben’s feeble argument about supplier loyalty was striking. I maintained that “supplier loyalty didn’t include being bent over and taking it up the butt.” When I said that, Ben was shocked, but the President laughed. A few weeks later Ben accepted early retirement, and all of a sudden I was the new Director of Purchasing.
While I had not yet exercised my ‘open marriage’ option, I knew that Steve had, because he immediately told me. To my surprise, I didn’t feel any of the pangs of jealousy that I expected. The fact that Steve could be open and honest, had indeed, been the difference. He still made love to me in the slow, delicious way that he’d always done, and I did my darndest to insure that my performance in bed would never lack by comparison. The slut in me was activated to Defcon 5 and I gave him everything he could handle.
The following year there were big changes for both of us. Steve was approached by a very prestigious law firm on Wall Street about joining the firm as a Senior Partner. At 40, such an offer was almost unprecedented and it required little thought on our part before he accepted. New York City was too far to commute, so we ended up purchasing a nice house in Greenwich Connecticut. Of course, I had to resign from my job, but somehow I had developed a reputation in the little niche of fiber and fabrics and I was soon contacted by one of the largest clothing firms in the country.
You would recognize the name in a heartbeat, but there was one rub. The company was headquartered in Chicago. When I spoke with them on the phone, I explained Steve’s situation and that precluded any relocation on my part, but they asked me to fly to Chicago for an interview anyway.
I wasn’t nervous at all, because I honestly didn’t consider that I could be a serious candidate for a senior position with this company. My experience was limited and I wouldn’t relocate. What was the point?
Well, I discovered what the point was. I had become somewhat of a phenom in the industry. The approach the company had taken was to survey suppliers in the industry. But to do this they had employed undercover agents to find out who those suppliers most feared negotiating a contract within America, and my name had come up often.
I was asked several questions about the industry and who was doing what to whom. Some of my answers raised a few eyebrows and I was often asked how I happened to know some specific piece of information. When I outlined the series of clues that had led me to my answer. I could see my interviewers making looks back and forth among themselves, but at the time, I didn’t know if that was good or bad. Gratefully, no one asked about my experience at Thomas & Thomas.
The day after I returned to Greenwich, I received a call. The company was prepared to offer me the position of Vice President of Purchasing with a salary in six digits. I would have an assistant who would manage the office in Chicago and I need not relocate. It was assumed that a significant part of my job would be on the road anyway, so as long as I checked in periodically they were willing to try to make the arrangement work. Steve was supportive and I was overjoyed. Who would have thought that a little girl from Albany with only a community college certificate would be offered such a fabulous opportunity? That night Steve took me out for a great dinner and we made wonderful love until well into the morning.
I jumped into my new job with enthusiasm. For one thing, I insisted that everyone in my group understand and practice the skills that had gotten me hired in the first place. I taught the training classes myself and we practiced the technique of probing questions but also what did the answer mean? What was left unsaid? and what kind of follow-up questions might elicit a truthful response? It was obvious to me that the group had been woefully led. A fact that some told me was the case when they realized what they didn’t know but should have. I liked the jump in morale and hoped it wasn’t temporary. I also liked to think that I was training lions, who I hoped wouldn’t regress to lambs.
New York City was quite a departure from the quaintness of Albany. While literally the Capitol* of one of the most important states in the country it paled by comparison to the city at the mouth of the Hudson, and Steve was moving in rarefied air. He was in demand by important clients for counsel and beautiful women for cock. At night, as he pounded into my, oh so still-welcoming pussy, he would encourage me to take a lover. He was feeling that the one-sided infidelity in our marriage wasn’t healthy and he thought that I should try to balance the scales.
My first opportunity occurred on a flight between Dallas and Los Angeles. I was in a window seat in first class when a nice-looking gentleman plopped into the seat next to me. We soon were engaged in a conversation and it took me a few minutes to recognize the pattern. He was full of questions, but they were couched, hidden in the back and forth of our conversation. Some weren’t even verbal, a raised eyebrow here, a pregnant pause there forcing me to fill the gap. With a start, I recognized that I was speaking to a true master of the craft that I had spent so much time recently learning and training. When I realized what was happening, I told him that I knew what he was doing and he dropped his eyes and got a sheepish look from being discovered.
I learned that we’d both be spending the night in Los Angeles and we were booked into different hotels, but they were less than a quarter of a mile apart. We decided to have dinner together and see where things went from there.
The man reminded me so much of Steve. He was a tad shorter, but he had beautiful hazel eyes that seemed to look into my soul. In our dinner conversation, there did not appear to be any subject that he couldn’t intelligently discuss. Unlike me, he had traveled the world and seemed to be comfortable in many different cultures. He told me that he was in charge of business development for a large American company and he was in Los Angeles to meet with some people about a possible acquisition. He had a rich baritone voice and I found myself mesmerized by his stories, often infused with pearls of wisdom and a refreshing humble sense of humor. I thought to myself that I had never met anyone so grounded and self-confident but in such a sincere and honest way.
He conveyed his appreciation and attraction to me in a gentle but forthright way that I found amazing. Over dinner, he reached for my hand and I didn’t pull away. When we adjourned to the lounge we sat side by side and he put his hand on my leg. Again I allowed it. The wine was starting to go to my head a bit when he kissed me and I instinctively reached behind his head and pulled him closer. By this point, we both knew where this was going to end.
We had eaten in the restaurant where I was staying, so it seemed natural for us to just take the closeby elevator.
Once inside my room, we embraced and I found that I loved not only the feel of his lips and his body but also the taste and smell of him. It had now been three years since I had made love to anyone other than Steve and my inner slut, was just now awakening from her slumber. Our clothing disappeared in alternating steps; his jacket, then mine, his shirt, my blouse, our shoes, and my bra. When we were naked from the waist up, we paused and explored.
His hands cupped and hefted my breasts. Then fingers rolled my nipples and lips found and sucked their hardening tips. My hands roamed over his manly chest and the hard muscles of his shoulders, arms, and abs. I was pleased to find that his body was hard and sculpted and I knew that he hadn’t gotten that way from sitting behind a desk. The kiss and the embrace that pressed my soft tits against his masculine hardness sent dizzying signals to all parts of my body and especially into my groin.
He insisted that he unzip my skirt and then falling to one knee, he slowly pulled my panties down. When he fully exposed me, he just stopped and stared at my nakedness. His lips were but inches from my silky mound and I could feel the heat of his breath and I thought that he could sense the heat of my cunt. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against my mons and I felt the tip of his tongue reach out and touch the tender skin which begins to fold into my slit. I heard him inhale the aroma of my womanhood and I felt his adoration for what he was experiencing.
When it was my turn, I also dropped to my knees and revealed his penis just inches in front of my face. At Thomas & Thomas, I had exposed many cocks in just this way and I never tired of those first few seconds when I gazed at them for the first time. I knew they came in a multitude of shapes and sizes and while I liked them all, the ones I liked best were circumcised and in pleasing proportion. The one I’d just revealed was all of those and more. Other than Steve, it was perhaps the most appetizing cock I’d ever seen.
As I gazed in wonder, the urge to fill my mouth with this wonderful specimen was just too much. I took him completely and just held his flesh and let the taste and smell of him wash over my senses. It felt so amazing that I just closed my eyes and tried to shut off all sensory input except that coming from my filled mouth.
From where we were, he only needed to step back and he could sit in one of the chairs. I scooted forward and succeeded in sitting him down without losing contact. Then placing my hands on his muscled thighs I began to suck in earnest. Oh, the feeling of a new and strange cock in my mouth was so exhilarating I could hardly contain my passion. While I sucked, I did think of Steve’s comment about balancing the scales, and I vowed to myself that by the end of this night, they would be.
When we moved to the bed, he expertly handled my body, and his kisses and exploring hands quickly elevated my arousal he was sensitive to the little signals that communicate when it’s time.
I groaned out my satisfaction when I felt his hard cock finally penetrate and seat itself firmly in my vagina. He was considerate of me and his initial slow strokes indicated an understanding of how a woman’s sexual pleasure is teased from her into full blossoming. He had rolled me onto my back, and I had instinctively spread my legs for him. I remember how delightfully he kissed me and how he looked deeply into my eyes as he just slipped inside. Ask any woman, but the moment a strong man is looming over you, ready to demonstrate his dominant masculinity is a moment to savor. He fucked me skillfully and soon I was riding him as much as he was riding me. Each time his wonderful cock penetrated, I thrust upwards and grunted out an “ugh.” I began to experience the most wonderful waves of pleasure with each thrust. They weren’t orgasms, just very delightful sensations. I had come to call these my ‘mini’ and I was having a lot of them.
No, I didn’t achieve a mind-blowing climax that night. I rarely do just from intercourse, but, Oh God he felt so good. Before he reached his own, he asked how I wanted him to finish and I said it was okay wherever he wished as I was on birth control, but ever the gentleman, he withdrew at the right moment and jacked his spend onto my soft stomach. He ejaculated an impressive amount of semen and I enjoyed watching the show. We womenk don’t see much during sex, and it was nice to see the fruits of our labors for a change.
After he got a washcloth and towel, we snuggled together for the next hour. He inquired how I felt, but refrained from being apologetic about leaving me behind. He seemed to understand something about women that I found not only remarkable but extremely rare. Oh God, he was just like Steve in that respect.
We exchanged phone numbers and he told me he’d call and perhaps we could make our paths cross again. I said that I hoped so. We kissed a final time and he left to walk to his hotel. I picked up the phone and called Steve. It was 4 a.m. in Los Angeles, but 7 a.m. in Connecticut and I didn’t care if Steve was awake yet or not.
When he answered, I spent the next hour describing to him every detail that I could remember of my recent debauchery. He seemed happy and asked lots of questions. When I told him that we’d discussed perhaps meeting again, Steve seemed pleased and said for me not to tarry too long and that he was prepared to give me a special welcome home present. Oh, I hoped so.
It turned out that the night in Los Angeles evolved into a four-year affair. Since we both needed to travel as part of our respective jobs we quickly fell into the habit of sharing these schedules and I found that it turned out to be remarkably easy to tweak them in such a way that we would end up in the same place for a day or two. Once, on a trip to Southeast Asia, we were together for a whole week! Twice. I rode in his company’s private jet; once to Vermont and another time to Guatemala. I was used to first-class travel, but I had to admit that those trips were a cut above.
He met Steve twice during those four years. The first time was at lunch when I introduced Steve to him at the fabulous Windows on the World Restaurant on the 100th floor of the World Trade Center. They seemed to hit it off okay, and I was pleased that the two men that I was fucking regularly could be friends.
The second time occurred about a year later. He was staying at The Plaza, and I was planning to meet him there. My pussy was wet just thinking about it, and my mouth watered for his firm cock to fill the space. That was the day that my car wouldn’t start, and Steve, bless his heart, volunteered to drive me on his way to his office. There’s a special thrill that a girl feels in her pussy as her adorable husband, drives her to a rendezvous with a man who intends to fuck her brains out. Steve’s parting words to both of us were, “have a good time.” God! I loved that man!
Other times we just called and talked on the phone and we discovered long-distance mutual masturbation. I found that his deep baritone voice and the eloquent way he could describe not only what he was doing but how he imagined me, was like reading a well-written bawdy romance novel. Alone in my hotel, my fingers morphed into his fingers, his mouth, his cock, and I never failed to bring me to the ‘big O.’
As I said, we carried on for four years, but we reached a point where the opportunities to meet became rarer, and I was feeling a desire to further explore the sexual freedom that Steve was granting me. I went on to other affairs and so did he, but we kept in contact, and some years later, fate intervened to bring us together again.
One frosty morning, I went to get into my car for an appointment in the Garment District and was amazed to find what looked like an invitation propped up on the car’s instrument panel. It was fine linen paper and the name Jennifer Logan was inscribed in gold leaf on the front. When I opened it, I discovered that it indeed was an invitation of sorts, from something called The Freyja Club, and I was instructed to present it at an address on the upper east side the following afternoon. I assumed that since my car had been securely locked that Steve had placed the mysterious envelope, so I went back inside to ask him why he’d chosen such a weird approach.
When Steve professed ignorance the mystery certainly deepened. We spent some time discussing the invitations’ puzzling appearance and what. If anything, we should do. Finally, our mutual curiosity won out, and even though the invitation was only addressed to me, we agreed that he would accompany me. I probably would not have gone alone.
The next day, we drove to the address on East 91st Street, and we were buzzed into a reception room with a man in a suit seated behind a desk. He looked to me to be more of a security guard than a receptionist, but I handed him the invitation and he motioned Steve and me to take a seat while he picked up his phone and spoke briefly to the person on the other end.
A few minutes later, a tall gentleman emerged from a door with a Viking ship carved into the mahogany. He introduced himself as Vince, but I didn’t catch the last name and he looked puzzled to see Steve, but he quickly regained his composure and led us both into his office.
To say his office was spectacular would be to understate its decor. When Steve and I were seated in the two chairs facing his huge desk, Vince pulled a black folio from a drawer and then fussed around and withdrew some papers from another folder, and placed them in front of Steve and me. Then he looked at us and said, “Well, I’m surprised, but I probably shouldn’t be. The invitation was intended for Mrs. Logan only,” then looking at Steve, he continued. “However, since she’s brought you along, I’m assuming that what I propose to offer her will need your approval, so I’m going to depart from our usual protocol and include you in the discussion. It’s probably better that you hear it from me, rather than secondhand anyway.”
Then he passed over the papers which proved to be non-disclosure agreements. As a lawyer, Steve was more familiar with these than me, but even I understood their purpose. It was something we needed to sign for Vince to tell him why we’d (or more correctly, I) had been invited. Steve read the entire thing, nodded, and signed and I did the same. Vince took the executed documents, placed them gently in the black folio, and started talking.
I’ll not go into a blow-by-blow of what he told us, because if you’ve read “The Freyja Club,” you’re already familiar with what Vince went on to explain. The “iron rule,” was a big shock for me. I could generally understand that at its most basic level, the Freyja Club was an exclusive ‘sex club,’ where anything went, but the requirement that ladies must be completely naked while in the club was a twist that left me breathless. I had never been an exhibitionist and the closest I ever came was one summer, when Steve persuaded me to doff my bra, and walk topless on a beach on Long Island. There had only been a few other people around and none of them had been particularly close. The Freyja Club rule was something entirely different and I could feel the blush on my face when Vince explained it.
When Vince finished, he sat back in his chair and awaited a response. I was the first to speak. “If I accept your invitation, does it include Steve?” Vince had explained that the vetting process on me was the only one that had been completed. However, he said, for Steve to be included, they would have to do a similar workup on him, and he couldn’t predict the result. We left his office with the understanding that we might have an interest, but only as a couple. If we had to wait a year or two for Steve’s background check to be completed, that’s what we would do. To say that the conversation on our ride home was interesting, would be the understatement of all time.
In the interim Steve and I had scheduled a vacation in Belize and coincidentally there was a nudist beach at the resort we’d chosen, and Steve decided that I needed to practice.
The first thing I did was get partially stoned. I had two glasses of wine with lunch and was feeling no pain when my lecherous husband took me back to the room and stripped me bare. As an aside, he also fondled my tits and stuck a finger in my pussy for no good reason. Then he gave me a blue cotton beach robe for modesty purposes and a sunhat and walked me to the beach. The naturist section was about two hundred yards down the beach and I guessed that we had arrived when I saw a sign that said ‘clothing optional’ in about four different languages.
We walked past a dozen people, all naked, and a few watched as we passed, but most were reading, sleeping, or just not looking in our direction. One couple, further up, seemed to be feeling each other, but that was the only overt sexual activity that I could see.
We found a nice spot and Steve laid out our beach towels and opened the two surf chairs and then proceeded to drop his shorts. I stared at my husband’s sudden exposure and I remember that I licked my lips at the sight of his firm, but not erect, penis.
Now, it appeared that it was my ‘moment of truth.’
Steve looked at me expectantly and I stuck out my tongue and shucked off the robe. For a brief second, my mind froze at my audacity. I assumed every neck on the beach had just snapped in my direction, but when I quickly glanced around, I didn’t see anyone that looked like they were watching. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.
I knew that my fear of public exhibitionism was rooted in my understanding that the female body was designed by nature to attract the attention of males. And a naked one screamed, “I’m available… fuck me.” Of course, the advent of civilization had somewhat muted that message, but for us women, a vestige of it is still very much in our psyche.
It looked like Steve had watched my discomfiture with some amusement, and when I saw it, I just scrunched up my face and sat down in one of the surf chairs. A few minutes later, Steve asked me to rub on sunscreen and I did in a much more professional manner than he did when it was my turn. Goodness, I never realized how much my tits and pussy were susceptible to sunburn.
Steve had told me that it wouldn’t take long for me to relax and feel comfortable with my nudity, and he was right. A few minutes later two men walked by and openly ogled my tits, and even though I was wearing sunglasses I suspect they figured out that I ogled their bouncing cocks in return. I began thinking, this isn’t so bad.
By the second day, not only had I become comfortable, I found that I was openly displaying my nakedness to whoever wished to look. By that afternoon, I was even laying on my back sunbathing with my legs spread and my pussy exposed, and I thought to myself, “Jennifer, you’ve come a long way, babe.”
It wasn’t just me. Steve too, seemed to have ‘come a long way.’ Our nightly lovemaking ratcheted up a notch and we fucked like rabbits. I challenged his vaunted stamina to the max and I admitted that I had never felt so cherished and loved. My concern over The Freyja Club’s “iron rule,” evaporated like mist in the morning sun. I was as happy as I thought it was possible to be.
After we returned to Connecticut, I made some long overseas trips and Steve had some high-profile cases. The Reagan SEC was cracking down on insider trading and Steve’s firm was getting lots of work defending stock brokers who had received Federal indictments. Truthfully we had put the Freyja Club on the back burner of our lives and it wasn’t until a year and a half later that I got a call from Vince, whose last name I finally learned was Malfano that Steve had been approved for membership. We signed up the following week.
Despite my ‘practice’ exposure in Belize, my first time standing in front of the Swan Door still produced butterflies in my stomach. I was about to walk through as naked as the day I was born. My makeup and hair were as perfect as I could make them and I’d shaved my pussy for the occasion. When Steve saw me before we left home, he said he had to do a taste test, which resulted in a most satisfactory ‘O’ for me before we even set foot in the club itself.
After taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and was met immediately by Steve and the eyes of six other men just on the other side. There was a woman with Steve, and I was introduced to Kyree, who was the club’s Hostess. She was beautiful, but for a moment I couldn’t tell her ethnicity – I later learned that she was half Senegalese and half French, but she looked more European than African. She shook my hand and welcomed Steve and me to the club.
Kyree offered to give us a tour. She apologized to Vince, who normally conducted these for new members, but at the moment he was ‘indisposed.’ The way she said it made me think that his indisposition might have been caused by some carnal activity he might be engaged in, but I admit that in this unreal atmosphere, it was easy to jump to such conclusions.
Thankfully, our tour started at the bar, and a chilled Pinot Noir took the edge off my apprehension. As I looked around, the presence of so many other naked women and nicely dressed men were having the intended effect on my mind. I had never been in such an exotic and erotically fueled place in my life and the very thoughts hardened my nipples.
I was awed by the decor of the club and everyone seemed friendly as we were introduced to the staff, in the bar, the restaurant, and ‘the Board.’
It was there that we met a pleasant mixed-race woman named Ming who explained ‘the board’s’ purpose and operation and said she also handled the keys to the ‘activity suites.’ Kyree took one of the keys and said she’d show us one.
On the second floor, she led us to one of the many doors and we walked into what looked like a five-star hotel room. The main feature was a nice king-sized bed, with some loveseats and chairs. The bed stand had three drawers. The top drawer contained body oils, condoms, and tissues. The second drawer has an impressive array of dildos and the bottom drawer has some pornographic VHS movies. Kyree also pushed a button on the side of the stand which filled the room with music. I loved to have music playing when I made love and I nodded my approval of everything she’d shown us.
The third floor’s main feature was the ‘orgy room.’ When we peeked in a dozen or so women were in the middle of having their pussies eaten and titillated. Some were laying on plinths, some sitting in chairs and two were sitting on their partner’s faces. I saw that those giving pleasure were both men and women and as my eyes darted from one couple to the next, I became aware of my wetness. Kyree explained that this was a regularly scheduled event, and there was also one for fellatio scheduled for later. We were welcome to join any.
It was almost too much to take in in one bite, and I needed another drink. Kyree led us back to the bar and while we sat she patiently answered all of our questions. I was surprised to learn that the men and women on the staff were also sexually available to members, but it was understood that they could decline without giving a reason.
On the second floor, I had seen an older woman with a much younger male staffer go into one of the activity suites and when I mentioned it to Kyree, she laughed and said that there were a few female members that liked younger cocks and that the male staffers needed the stamina to satisfy the demand. I looked at Steve as if to say, “want a job?”
Like us, Kyree said that she was married to a wonderful man who gave her all the freedom any woman could hope for, and he had helped her secure her position here. He was a member and she said that she’d introduce him the next time we happened to be in the club at the same time. Steve and I both thanked her for her helpful orientation and she waved as she returned to her post by the entrance.
Steve turned to me and said, “What do you want to do now?” I looked into his eyes deeply and said. “I think we’ll both enjoy everything that Kyree just showed us, and more. But to remember our first night, please get one of those keys, take me upstairs, turn on the music, and fuck my brains out.” Did I ever tell you how much I love my husband’s lecherous smile?
On the next visit, we met a couple, Ben and Martha and we experienced our first wife swap. The highlight of the evening was after we paired off. Steve and Martha sat on one of the loveseats playing with each other while Ben fucked me in front of our spouses on the king-sized bed. After I had taken Ben’s load, it was our turn to watch Steve shove his beautiful cock into Martha. I loved seeing Steve’s masculine body from the outside, and I became aware of some things he did in making love that I couldn’t see when he was on top of me.
Another time, in the ‘orgy room,’ Steve watched me suck four men’s loads into my belly before finishing with him.
When Kyree finally introduced us to her husband Paul, we repeated the scene we’d done with Ben and Marge, except as a warm-up, Kyree and I did the woman-to-woman thing that got the guys suitably aroused. I found that I immensely enjoyed having Steve watch me have sex with other men, and after Kyree, other women. The slut in me was back with a vengeance.
Periodically, we would run into Vince and one of the things he always asked us was; did we know of anyone that we would recommend for membership. At first, we said no, but then I thought about my four-year affair, and the light just went on in my head. I could have kicked myself for overlooking such an obvious candidate, so I called Vince, and said, “Yes. I think he would be perfect.” When I mentioned it to Steve, he added an enthusiastic second.
A year and a half later I was checking my messages, and there was one I hadn’t expected. An old, and very good friend had just flown in from Paris and he informed me that he was the newest member of a club that he was sure that I knew about. Was it possible for Steve and me to join him there? I went running through the house to find Steve and he was as happy as I was. We begged off our previously scheduled engagement and I called and left a message at his hotel. We’d see him tomorrow night. My pussy began to throb in anticipation. It had been four years, and fate had just intervened.
As we drove into the city, I turned to Steve and said, “I need him… just with me… just for tonight.” My wonderful husband glanced at me and answered, “I know Jen, I know.”
God! I love that man!