0 comments/ 32955 views/ 1 favorites Karen's Way By: drbenway My wife Karen grew up on a farm in the Midwest. Her parents were good wholesome folks who kept her sweetly shy and innocent of big city ways until she moved to the city to live with her sister after she graduated high school. She didn't wear fancy clothes or makeup, and she actually looked kind of plain when I first met her a month after she arrived in the city. I thought she was nice, anyway, and we started going out. I wasn't any great stud in the looks department, myself, so I didn't feel like I was doing her any favor. It didn't take me too long to realize it was the other way around. Karen was beautiful. Gradually, her big sister was teaching her how to wear makeup and prettier clothes. The transformation was amazing. One night, we were making out in her sister's apartment. It was the first time I got her bra off. I almost swallowed my tongue when I saw those gorgeous breasts. I knew then that Karen was one of Nature's rare perfections. I fell wildly in love with her beauty. Two weeks later, I asked her to marry me. I don't know why she said yes. Maybe she would have felt guilty about our heavy petting if she didn't. Whatever the reason, we were married when she was still a month short of her nineteenth birthday. I was five years older, but maybe just as inexperienced. I think I married her because I realized I could never find another girl as beautiful as Karen that would look at me twice. It probably wasn't the best motivation to start a lifetime together, but that's the way it happened. Actually, we were very lucky. We got along just fine. I kind of put her on a pedestal. I worked hard and earned enough to support our little apartment and send Karen to secretarial school. Looking back on that time, it was heaven. I'd rush home every night to a nice supper Karen would have waiting. We'd stay home and watch TV, or I'd help with her homework. And every day, she grew more beautiful. Strangely, that was the seed of our biggest problem. Secretarial school was filled with young girls whose fondest dream was to get out of school and land a job where they could hook a rich, handsome young exec. They were experts at the arts of seduction. Whatever Karen had not learned from her sister, these girls filled in. To make matters worse, there was a not-so-subtle competition among them to outshine one another in terms of face, figure, clothes and flat-out sexiness. It wasn't long before Karen was the acknowledged winner, by far the prettiest and sexiest of them all. Of course, that meant she had to wear the clothes and makeup to fit the part. She didn't seem to mind. The transformation from the shy, plain farm girl was nearly complete, and I was having trouble with it. Karen was so obviously beautiful and sexy, we couldn't step out the door without her attracting an overload of lustful male attention. I'd see the looks in their eyes and it would tear me up. My stomach would feel like it was twisted into knots. I hated going out, but I was afraid to let her go alone. So I ended up absorbing a lot of that kind of torture. Karen ate it up. It didn't help that I felt completely inadequate to sexually satisfy my beautiful young wife. Karen's appetites had blossomed into an irresistable river of need, a major element of her raw animal attraction. My own urges were confused and overwhelmed by it. It put her on a level I could never reach. Our sex was weak and unfulfilling. Frustration fed on itself and grew into an awful emptiness between us. About the time she finished secretarial school, I got a great job as head financial honcho of Johnson Molded Forms, a small plastics firm. The pay wasn't much, and I only had one old spinster bookkeeper for a staff, but I ran the books of the company - billing, payroll, accounts, payables, taxes; everything. With that kind of responsibility under my belt, I knew I would grow with the company. We were hoping it would help us get out of our shoebox apartment, but it wasn't enough. When I figured out what we'd need for the down payment and monthly mortgage, it looked like we'd have to save for another three or four years and I'd need big raises right along to afford a decent house. Karen looked over my figures, just as disappointed. "Wait a minute," she said, brightening. "You forgot me. I can earn something, too. That should help." My heart rose into my throat. I didn't want her to get a job. I wanted her home, where I could keep her all to myself. But I couldn't tell her that. All I said was: "Oh, yeah. Maybe it would." I plugged in a minimal secretary's income and it made a big difference. With Karen working, it looked like we could afford our first house in less than a year. She was thrilled, and promised to sign up at the school's job placement office the next day. Then she went for her first interview. It killed me to see her go off in her short skirt and translucent white blouse. She looked very business-like, I'm sure, but there wasn't any question about her qualifications. I doubt if the guy who interviewed her even asked her to type. When she came home crying because the pig had tried to feel her up, I lost it. I wanted to kill the son-of-a-bitch. Then I wanted to sue him for harrassment. Karen wouldn't let me do either. But it was the end of the interviews. Karen calmed down the next day, and told me I was overreacting. "How am I going to get a job if I don't go out on interviews?" she asked, logically enough. "I don't care," I countered. "I'm not exposing you to that again." "Great. That's just fine. Then you find me a job where I don't have to interview. 'Cause I'm going to work. I didn't break my nails on those typewriter keys for two years to sit home in this dumpy little apartment and mend your socks." I didn't know what to do. It scared the hell out of me when Karen got her back up like that. But I didn't want her going into some strange office, where she'd be leered at and pawed like some kind of plaything. I was between the proverbial rock and hard place. Amazingly, fate came to my rescue. Mitch Connors, the VP of Sales at Johnson Forms advertised a position for a secretary. Theoretically, Mitch was my peer, even though he made about five times what I did. I thought it might be a safe place for Karen. Mitch seemed to be a decent guy, and I could keep an eye on her. What a colossal mistake. Mitch took one look at Karen and his eyes lit up like a kid's at Christmas. I knew it was trouble from that minute on, but I was caught. I'd asked him to consider Karen. When he said he'd hire her, what could I say: 'No thanks; just kidding. I don't like the gleam in your eye.'? So Karen went to work for Mitch Connors in our little office. From my cubbyhole I could see her at her desk outside Mitch's door, and it was a revelation. I had never realized our company was such a hotbed of lust. Of course, it all swirled around Karen. Every day I was treated to the exquisite torture of watching the salesmen pass her desk on their way into Mitch's office. They never failed to stop and chat, probably flirt a bit, maybe drop a suggestive comment. And of course Karen would smile and blush and send them on their way with a nice eyeful of legs and cleavage. As bad as it was watching the parade of leering salesmen, the scenes my imagination churned up when Karen was out of my sight were worse. Every morning and every afternoon, Mitch would take her into his office for an hour at a time, carefully closing the door behind him so they would not be disturbed. Sometimes my mind played tricks during those hours. I would hear moans and cries of ecstasy, and my blood would freeze until I realized it was only the wheezing of our ancient air conditioner. Karen didn't help the situation. From her training at the secretarial school, she was already well practiced at the arts of seductive dress and grooming. And with the attention she was getting from Mitch's corps of randy salesmen, she just kept pushing the boundaries. In fact, I thought she pushed it way too far. One day she wore a micro-mini with sheer black stockings that barely reached the hem of the skirt. She had to arrange her legs very carefully when she sat, or show off her tender thighs above the stockings. Her blouse was cut extremely low, so that her cleavage was always on display, and when she leaned forward, it pulled away to expose her translucent lace bra. I told her she was starting to look more like a whore than a secretary. She just laughed and called me a prude. Clearly, she loved the attention. What was not yet clear was the fact that Karen was also getting off on tormenting me. It took me a long time to admit that to myself, even after it was obvious. Part of the reason it took me so long to recognize it, was the fact that she wasn't having an affair or even seeking one. She just liked to show off and tease. I kept telling myself it wasn't meant to hurt; it was just her excess sexual energy finding an outlet. I was overreacting. My own inadequacy was making me pathologically jealous. I made a hundred excuses for her, but it got harder to excuse as her behavior became more and more extreme. It wasn't just in the office, either. For instance, she basically stopped wearing panties, and she made sure I knew it. With her short skirts, that knowledge lent an air of sexual tension to every move she made when we were out in public. One time at the mall, we took a break from shopping and sat down on one of the benches. Karen was tired and sprawled carelessly. Her skirt rode well up her legs, which were casually parted to make room for the bag she dropped between her feet. Quickly calculating the angles, I realized her pussy was probably visible to anyone walking toward us along the mall. Fortunately, it was late on a weeknight, and no one was in the line of sight. I started to say something to Karen, but stopped cold when I saw her expression. Her lips were parted in a taunting half-smile as she turned toward me. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and her breasts rose and fell quickly with her breathing. She was keenly aware of her little exhibition. Just then, three young men emerged from a store not more than thirty yards away and began walking straight at us, talking and joking with each other. "What were you going to say?" Karen asked mildly, making no effort to close her legs or pull her skirt into place. I couldn't answer. I looked from Karen to the three young men. One of them suddenly stopped in shock, staring straight at my wife's naked pussy. It hit me like a dagger in the heart. I turned back to Karen and searched her eyes, my jaw hanging slack. "Oh, you always do that," she laughed, "start to say something and forget what it was in the middle." Her voice was loud and bright, purely for the benefit of her audience. The three young men passed us, suddenly silent. I could not look at them again, or at Karen. My eyes wandered to a trash receptacle in a fancy box. The message on the box said: "It's your mall. Keep it clean." I read it over and over without making any sense of it. Another time, we were hanging around on a Saturday morning. Karen was still in her nightgown, reading the paper and drinking coffee. I was in the bedroom getting dressed when I heard a knock at the front door. I had one leg of my pants on, but I started to hop toward the door. I was afraid Karen would answer it and take the opportunity to show off her sexy nightgown. I was too slow. Karen got there first. Just as I got to the bedroom door, I saw her at the other end of the hall, opening the front door just wide enough to see who it was. "Yes?" she said, peering around the door. The outlines of her body were clear through the flimsy material of her shorty nightgown. "Good morning, ma'am," I heard a man's voice drawl through the cracked door. "My name is Eugene Moore and I'm here with an unusual opportunity for you and your neighbors to subscribe to some of today's premier periodical publications at the lowest rates ever offered, and at the same time - at no extra cost - to provide an important contribution to one of this country's most worthy charitable organizations, the Christian Love Foundation for the Worthy Poor. I wonder if you could spare me a few moments of your valuable time to hear the details of this truly wonderful offer?" I should have strode down the hall and slammed the door in his face, but I couldn't. The scene that was about to unfold was as clear to me as if it had already happened. I silently closed the bedroom door to a crack and continued to watch with perverse fascination. "Well ..." Karen hesitated, "I guess I could." She opened the door and faced the man, Eugene Moore. I could see his face over Karen's shoulder. He was a small man, no more than five nine, and thin, probably in his early thirties. But his washed out rat face had the used-up look of an alcoholic or drug addict, deeply lined, with small close-set eyes and stained crooked teeth. His eyes widened momentarily as they registered Karen's near nakedness. He started to say something, but his mouth forgot what it was and hung slack. An instant later, his features slid back into their accustomed oily smile. "I ... I thank you, ma'am," he managed to stammer, having practiced it a thousand times. "I know you'll find it well worth your while. Uh ... is your husband at home today?" "Oh, yes. But I think he's dressing, or taking a bath. Would you like to come in." "Um ... yes. I ..." But Karen had turned away and was leading him into the living room. He watched her back and swung the door shut behind him. Even though Karen had passed out of my sight, I knew he could clearly see the outline of her naked body as the bright windows of the living room turned her nightgown transparent. The view was mirrored in his face, in the urgent expression of his lust, an expression that chilled me to the bone. The salesman disappeared from the front hall, following Karen. Silently, I moved back into the bedroom, put on a shirt and finished buttoning up my pants. I padded softly back out into the hall and peeked around the frame of the arch leading into the living room. Karen was on the couch, facing me. Eugene Moore sat across the coffee table from her, his back to me. Karen looked directly into my eyes and gave no indication that she saw me. She could have said 'here's my husband,' but I knew she wouldn't. She wanted me to watch, and it would be better if the salesman didn't know that I was. Karen was sitting carefully upright, her knees pressed firmly together. The little nightgown was doing its best to cover. It had lace bands at her breasts and waist that prevented the darkness of her nipples and pubic patch from showing clearly through the gauzy material. But, even standing, the gown barely reached her upper thighs, and seated as she was, the hem extended just far enough over her lap to keep her pussy out of sight. I felt as if I was seeing her through the eyes of Eugene Moore. I had lounged complacently beside her all morning, but suddenly, she filled the air with a crackling erotic tension that caught in my chest and pounded in my ears. A damp trickle of fear ran down my back. At the same time, there was no denying the stirring in my crotch. The salesman had gone back to his pitch, gesturing over some brochures laid out on the coffee table. I listened to his stilted southern drawl and ground my teeth in frustration. How could Karen give herself to someone so repulsive? " ... and remember," fifty percent of your subscription rate goes directly to the Christian Love Foundation, helping them provide the basic necessities of life for those poor unfortunates who, through no fault of their own, cannot provide for themselves. "Now, I know you could probably use several of these informative and entertaining periodicals, but you've probably been put off by the high newsstand prices. Well I'm here to tell you, you don't need to pay anything like those prices. If I can't save you fifty percent over the newstand, I'm not even going to offer you the magazine. In most cases I can save you as much as seventy percent. Now what do you say to that?" Karen smiled. "It sounds good. What's the catch - you only sell a bunch of boring old farm journals, or something?" "Absolutely no catch. We've got every kind of magazine you could name, from the Ladies Home Journal to Playboy." "Playboy!" she giggled. "Oh, my husband might like that." There was a pause while Eugene Moore quickly calculated. "I can't see why he'd want to look at Playboy, ma'am, with you right here in his house." "Mr. Moore," she chided playfully. "You aren't trying to say I could compete with those Playboy models, are you?" "No ma'am," he replied. "I'm saying they'd have a hard time to compete with you." Karen looked surprised for a moment, then giggled. "Oh, Mr. Moore. You're certainly full of it, aren't you? Do you really think I could be a Playboy bunny?" She put her hands behind her head and struck a mock pose. From Moore's point of view it must have looked as if she was staring off into space, but her eyes were looking straight into mine, reveling in my anguish. Eugene Moore made a small strangled gasp. Raising her hands to her head had lifted the ruffled hem of her nightgown from her lap, plainly revealing dark tufts of pubic hair in the junction of her legs and torso. Eugene Moore swallowed hard as Karen's arms dropped to her sides and the hem of her nightgown fell back over her pubic patch. "Ma'am," he said earnestly, "I honestly do believe you could work for Playboy, or any other magazine if you had a mind to." "Well, thank you, Mr. Moore. You're awfully sweet. Now, what were you saying?" "Oh. Yeah. Um ... I guess we were trying to decide which of these magazines you and your husband might be interested in. Here's the list." He spread out one of the brochures. "As you can see, it's a pretty extensive selection." Karen leaned forward and studied the brochure. This action allowed the loose neck of her nightgown to fall away, providing Moore and me with a clear view of her lovely breasts. Moore was close enough to reach out across the coffee table and touch them. Karen went over the list carefully, shifting gradually from left to right, insuring that Moore could carefully examine each of her gorgeous tits. "Well, I see a couple we might like, but I'm not sure we can afford them," she said, still leaning over the brochure. She looked up to Moore's face, finally forcing his eyes to shift from her sweet chest. "I, uh ... Let me tell you about our easy payment plan," Moore sputtered, trying to force his mind back to the selling task at hand. Karen slowly sat up, listening. Her gown again covered her breasts, and Moore was able to recite his payment plan. Karen's smile encouraged him. At the same time it spoke clearly to me, saying I'm not through yet. Watch what I come up with next! It may have been that smile that finally awakened me to the streak of cruelty that ran through her teasing. Suddenly I knew she would not be through until she had destroyed my last shred of self-respect, and that she would enjoy the course of it every step of the way. Even this revelation, however, could not dull the shock of her next move. As she listened to Moore spout the figures and terms of the payment plan, Karen cocked her head playfully, as if it was all very interesting, but way beyond her. Then she raised her foot and placed it on the couch and leaned her cheek on her knee. This opened her sweet pussy to Moore's astonished gaze. Her pussy lips pouted, plump and wet and open, as if awaiting his kiss. I felt like I had never seen such aching sweetness before. Suddenly, I was monstrously hard, my balls aflame with an unfamiliar throbbing pulse. I retreated to the bedroom in sickness and confusion. I lay on the bed with my head spinning. Outrageous scenes of Karen and Eugene Moore played through me like electricity. I couldn't hear them, their sound in the apartment was no more than a vague and senseless murmur. Twice, Karen's high laugh cut through. Karen's Way Some time later, Moore left. Karen came into the room. She was nude. She threw her nightgown at the hamper and said: "Think I'll take a shower." It was eating me alive. At the office, I was so distracted I could hardly work. At home, I was useless. I began to drink myself to sleep at night in a dizzying spiral of dissolution. I did the best I could to hide these symptoms from Karen, but it was impossible. She knew what was going on in my head, but she didn't do a thing to change it. All she had to do was go back to the old Karen, the shy uncertain girl I'd known when she was fresh from the farm. But that wasn't fair, either. She was so much more vibrant, now, so much more alive. How could I deny her that. So, I was rapidly falling to pieces when Karen told me that Mitch had invited her to the annual sales kick-off up at the resort. That was the finishing touch. These events, reserved exclusively for the sales force were infamous for their drinking and sexual hijinks, a three-day frat party. I had visions of Karen taking on the entire sales force. She'd already got them hot just sitting there at her desk in her sexy outfits. They would fall on her like a swarm of hungry locusts. I was nearly comatose with jealousy and dread the morning she left. Mitch picked her up in his Porsche, beeping the horn down on the street. She bounced to the door, breathtaking in her short shorts and tank top. I stumbled after her, unshaved and unwashed, barely able to croak goodbye. "Be good," I added trying to smile like I meant nothing by it. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "I hope I'll be better than that," she laughed. "I'm going to be great." Then she grabbed her bag and ran down the stairs. I watched from the window as she drove off with Mitch. The heaviness in my chest and the buzzing in my head tempted me to climb out the window and step off into space. Unfortunately, our apartment was only on the second floor. I'd have probably sprained an ankle, which wouldn't be much relief. Instead, I hung around the apartment and watched reruns on TV for the next 36 hours, as my mind continued to spin into chaos around tormenting images of Karen at the center of the annual sex kickoff. By the middle of the second day, I couldn't stand it any more. Without any plan, I got in the car and drove. The Rosewood Resort was on a lake. It was small, and Mitch liked it because he could book the whole thing for his boys. They felt more at ease running amok without a bunch of nosy, small-minded tourists to stand around and disapprove. I reached the lake about sundown and got a room in a motel a few miles down the road from the resort. It was a seedy place, but it fit me to a tee. I had no luggage, hadn't shaved for three days, and smelled like a dead fish. I was lucky to find my wallet in my pocket. The guy in the office didn't look much different than me, though he did smell better. He took my credit card without comment. The next day, I got up early and drove up to the Rosewood Resort. There was a gravel drive that skirted the grounds down to a public boat ramp on the lake. I parked in a small turnout near the boat ramp and peered through the trees at the boathouse of the resort. Then I walked through the trees to get a closer look. It was early. No one was around. I looked quickly over the grounds, trying to note where things were - the pool, the path down to the dock, the resort buildings, the parking lot. The camp was silent. There was no reason not to go on up and see some more of it. Shamefully, I had gone through some papers in Karen's briefcase. One of them had the cabin assignments. Karen was in cabin 12. The first cabins I came to were 17 and18. They were at the end of a row of 6. Karen's #12 was at the end of the next one. Cabin #12 was a cedar shingle box about 12x15, sitting on some firmly placed cement blocks. There were two small windows in the side that faced the trees, and two bigger ones in the back. There was still no sound of anyone stirring. I had to look in those windows. Karen was lying in a bed directly under the back windows. The early morning light filtered into her room. She was clearly visible through the screen. A white sheet wrapped around her tan legs, not hiding her nakedness. She was beautiful and sweet, in her sleep, and she was alone. My breath caught in my throat, and I had to look away. I sat against the wall of the cabin for a few minutes, stunned and suspended. I had come all that way to see Karen, and I had seen her. What I could do from there was not clear. I didn't want her to know I was there. I was ashamed of spying on her. I looked in on her again, and I could hear footsteps approaching the cabin on the gravel path in front. From my vantage at the rear, I could see right through the cabin and out the front window. A large dark shape moved across my narrow field of view and bounded onto the front step. There were several sharp raps on the door. "Karen. You ready?" I heard a voice call out. It was Mitch. As Karen started to stir, his head popped into the window, and I knew he was seeing the same naked wonder I was. Reflexively, Karen pulled the sheet up over her naked haunches and gorgeous ripe breasts. "Oh. Mitch. I overslept. Give me a minute." Mitch politely disappeared from the front window. Karen stretched and let the sheet fall away. Her breasts rose gloriously in the morning light, not five feet from where I knelt in the weeds. I felt a flush of arousal and fear course through my chest. A sudden erection began to pulse in my pants. Karen jumped up and grabbed a bikini that hung over the back of a chair. She pulled up the bottoms, which were nothing more than a narrow thong. Again, Mitch peered around the corner of the window. Karen had her back to him, but I could see the lecherous grin on his face as he looked in on her. I felt a jolt of anger and frustration. He was stealing what was mine, even if he was only looking at the moment. I must have moved, or made a sound, because the next moment I heard Karen gasp. When I glanced back to her, she was looking right at me. "Mitch," she cried, "there's someone at the back window." Oh shit, I thought. What the hell is happening. I sprang to my feet and ran blindly toward the woods, like a frightened rabbit. Unfortunately, I wasn't fast enough. Mitch came barreling around the corner of the building and brought me down with a flying tackle. We rolled across the rough ground, with me getting the worst of it because Mitch was on top and outweighed me by fifty pounds. He seemed ready to fight, before he realized who I was. "Jeff," he shouted, just as he was about to punch me. Karen ran up behind him, still tugging at a tiny bikini top, trying to get it to cover her breasts. "Jeffrey!" She echoed Mitch's surprise for only a moment. Then anger cut through her voice like the lash of a whip. "What are you doing here?" It was painfully clear what I was doing there, but I made the best of it. I said I got lonesome for Karen and just drove out for the day. I'd be going back that night. Mitch didn't want me to stay, but he couldn't very well tell me to get lost. Karen felt no such constraint. "Don't give me that. I know why you're here, and don't you think you're going to get away with it." She glared down at me, silently ignoring my feeble protests. "Well, I'm not letting you ruin my day. Mitch and I were going for a swim." With that, she walked off in the direction of the pool. Mitch got up and followed. I lay there in the dirt for another minute, contemplating my own stupidity and weakness. I wanted to scrape up the last scraps of my self-esteem and walk back to my car, pretend I had never been near the Rosewood Resort, but I couldn't. Karen's hooks were into me so deep it would have torn my heart out to pull away. I got up and walked stiffly and self- consciously to the pool. Karen and Mitch were already in the water. I found a chaise lounge and watched them, grimly aware of the ridiculous figure I presented. Karen wasted no time in starting to torment me. She was playing with Mitch, splashing and laughing, taking every opportunity to rub up against him in the water. At one point, she jumped into his arms and pulled his head into the sweet softness of her breasts. Mitch wrapped his arms around her, holding her up with his hands on her naked buns. It must have given him a twinge, because he looked up at me. All I could do was smile, as if it was all just good clean fun, and I was happy that Karen was having a good time. It was a smile so sick and deformed, the muscles of my face spasmed with the strain. Karen looked up too, and laughed. The rest of the day was more of the same. Karen barely spoke to me, and when she did, it was in the most contemptuous tone. With Mitch and his boys, it was just the opposite. When she decided to spend the morning lying in the sun, she asked for some help with her sun-screen. Three of the boys eagerly volunteered, and spent ten minutes massaging the cream into every square inch of Karen's lovely body. When she finally dismissed them, they walked away with obvious erections bulging in their swim trunks. Karen's face seemed to share the erotic glow. After lunch, three other women showed up at the pool. Mitch had evidently hired them to entertain the troops. They were all outrageously sexy, in the professional manner of a trio of high-priced hookers. I later found out that was exactly what they were. Their names were: Lauren, Daryl and Jackie. Mitch called them his hostesses. During the day, their job was to serve the men. They wore a uniform that consisted of less material than Karen's tiny thong bikini. When one of the men needed a towel, he simply called to his favorite and she ran after it for him. They were also available for sexy water games. Daryl and Jackie climbed on the shoulders of two of Mitch's biggest studs and held a joust to see who could knock the other down. There was alot of pushing and pulling and water foaming around them. They put on a great show, very athletic and competitive, but Jackie finally went down with a splash. When she popped up, her breasts had escaped their minimal confinement. She got a cheer from all around the pool as she smiled and calmly repositioned the tiny triangles of her top. I looked over at Karen. She was watching the girls in the water like all of the men, but she wasn't cheering. When the show was over, Karen decided to get some sun on her back. She adjusted the chaise lounge and spread her towel on it. Then she unhooked her bikini top and lay down on her stomach. With a quick but careful move, she slid the top out from under her and dropped it beside the chaise lounge. The sides of her sweet breasts were in plain view, only the nipples nestled discretely in the towel. With that, she reclaimed most of the attention that had been focused on the hired help. Like me, the guys around the pool were acutely conscious of Karen's naked tits. Whenever she felt their attention waning, Karen would casually shift around, changing the view, teasing them with a near miss. It turned me on, and it terrified me. I knew Karen's competitive instincts would never let Mitch's hostesses out-sexy her, even if they were professionals. By mid-afternoon, Loren, Daryl and Jackie got busy serving drinks. It was amazing how much those salesmen could drink. I had one beer and it went straight to my head. The alcohol was fuel to the fire for Mitch's boys. They were getting loose, and a little more rowdy with every round. Loren was serving drinks to a table of guys next to me. One of them slid his hand up the back of her leg and slipped a finger under the narrow strap of her thong. It disappeared up to the second knuckle. The only place it could have disappeared to was her vagina. She gave a little start and playfully slapped his hand away, grinning. "Is that all I get for a tip?" she teased. "Oh, no," the guy assured her. "Wait till tonight. I'll give you a biiiiig tip." She laughed with all the guys at the table and sauntered away. About five, Karen retrieved her top and walked back toward the cabins. I jumped up and followed, catching up to her on the gravel path. She didn't look at me, just strode on, her face set in an angry frown. "Karen, I ..." She stopped dead and turned to me. "Listen. I don't want to hear from you. The only reason you're here is to spy on me, you sick little worm. Tonight I'm going to make you pay. In the mean time, you stink. I don't even want to be seen with you till you get a shower and some fresh clothes." "I didn't bring a change," I whined. "Yeah. Figures. You go back to my cabin and shower. Scrape off that beard. There's a razor in the bathroom. I'll see if I can borrow a clean pair of pants and a shirt." She walked down the path to one of the cabins, knocked on the door and walked in. She looked back and gave me a wicked grin as she closed the door. I did what she told me. I showered and shaved. I wrapped a towel around my waist when I left the bathroom and sat on her bed. Karen showed up a few minutes later. She was flushed and breathless, carrying a pair of plaid shorts and a flower-patterned shirt. I wasn't conscious of the hideous mis- match of the clothes. I only thought of what she might have bartered for them. She tossed the clothes on the bed without comment, stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. I didn't move until she came out, naked and glistening, some time later. "There's no clean underwear," I complained stupidly. "So don't wear any," she tossed back. "I'm not." She dabbed perfume at her neck, between her breasts, and into her pussy hair. Then she slithered into a short summer shift, true to her word, without benefit of bra or panties. Mechanically, I pulled on the shorts and buttoned the shirt. My brown oxfords completed the clash. Karen carefully applied her makeup, brushed out her thick brown hair, then gave her finger and toenails a fresh coat of enamel. While she painted her toenails, she sat directly opposite me, lifting first one foot, then the other to the seat of the chair she sat on. In that position, the short skirt of her dress did nothing to hide the full pouting lips of her pussy. My penis responded by straining against the rough zipper of the shorts, a condition that was becoming chronic. When her nails were dry, she led me to dinner. I suppose I ate something. If I did, I was unaware of it. All I could think of was the moist red lips that were barely concealed by Karen's dress. She sat next to me, and I could see how high the dress rode up her thighs. I wondered if any of Mitch's boys were getting a look. Several times I thought I saw one or more of them look under our table with an expression of intense concentration. For some reason, I was losing the anger and frustration I had felt. My only reaction to the stolen glances of the salesmen was a renewed push against the crotch of those damn shorts. My mind wandered to the payback Karen had promised with a mixture of fear and excitement. After dinner, the drinking picked up again, and the party seemed to flow naturally back down to the pool area. There was a paved terrace overlooking the pool. It was only a few steps up, and brilliantly lit. Mitch had his boys busy setting up some sound equipment on the terrace, apparently to use it as a sort of stage. The rest of us milled around the pool, and I overheard a couple of the guys joking about Mitch's annual address to the troops. I had actually forgotten what this whole thing was about. But something else was going on. The high spirits of the sales reps were not in anticipation of a speech. The guys were drinking like it was water, and horsing around with wild abandon. A couple guys got thrown in the pool to the cheers of the others. Lauren, Daryl, and Jackie, serving the boys in their tiny bikinis, were in imminent danger of gang rape. Not to be outdone, Karen had gone back to the cabin and changed back into her bikini. She was laughing and flirting with a group of guys surrounding her. I could feel the air of high spirits and excitement. Maybe I was the only one there who didn't know what it was all about. Mitch finally got up and took the microphone. "Okay," he shouted enthusiastically, "let's get this show on the road." "Yeah," the boys yelled back. "First, I got to say a few words about the year we just had." A smattering of boos provoked a burst of laughter from the crowd. "Alright, alright," Mitch laughed. "Just the same, you guys know that's why we're here. If we hadn't beat our quota, you think Jeff here would be letting us spend the company's money on three days of carousing at this place? No way. So, anyway, thanks Jeff, and thanks to you guys for making quota." Mitch went through the performance of his sales teams by region, giving special recognition to the Northeast for making inroads into the ripe markets of Chicago and Detroit. The boys put up with it, but they were there for something else. Mitch knew it too. One of the boys yelled out, "Hey. This is like work." That brought out a chorus of: "yeah, yeah," from all the rest of them. Mitch grinned. "Alright. I was going to announce next year's quota, but that's not what you're interested in right now. Is it?" "NO." "Well, anyway, we're up 20% on a base of this year's actual. You'll get your individual figures next Monday. Okay? So that's it." Mitch looked around and let the silence sink in for a moment, then shouted: "Let the games begin." There was a loud and raucous cheer. First, about half a dozen guys had a beer chugging contest. Then there was the biggest bellyflop. And finally, the bottom of the pool nickel hunt, where Mitch threw a handful of nickels into the pool and six guys dived in at the same time to retrieve them. Each of these contests resulted in a winner. The prize was a hundred dollar bill tucked into a strategic pocket of one of the girls' bikinis. The winner had to root out the bill using nothing but his mouth. Not surprisingly, it took each of the three lucky winners quite some time to work the prize out of its hiding place. Daryl and Lauren hid their bills in the bra cups of their bikini tops, and the guys got a charge out watching Mike Andrews and Tony Poletti thoroughly licking and sucking the girls' tits in the course of freeing their prize money. But the climax was Chuck Johnson slurping the bill out of the crotch of Jackie's thong. When that was done, it was time for the main event. "Now, we've all been enjoying the attention of our hostesses these last three days, haven't we?" Mitch asked. "Yeah," they all agreed, loudly. "Well, I think it's time to show our appreciation. But first, we're going to have a little contest to pick our favorite. Alright?" "Yeah." They cheered and whistled. "Alright. But we don't want them to get too hot while they're dancing. Do we? So we're going to wet them down first. And, we don't want them to get too cold from the water, so we're going to give them all T-shirts to dance in. Right? And, seems to me that sounds like a wet T-shirt contest. Doesn't it?" "Yeah." "Daryl, would you start us off." Mitch grabbed a T-shirt and tossed it down to her. "Now, what I want you to do is to put on the T-shirt and get in the pool. Get good and wet, and then come up and dance for us. Okay?" "Okay," Daryl shouted back. She put on the T-shirt and slipped the bikini top off underneath. Handing the top to a guy standing nearby, she walked down the submerged steps of the pool and out toward the deep end, till the water was up to her neck. When she got out of the pool, the thin cotton of the T-shirt clung to the fantastic curves of her tits as if it wasn't there. Water glistened on the taut golden skin of her buns. She got whistles and hoots as she ascended the stage. The music started and she danced. It was more a series of sexy poses than a dance, but it got the reaction she was looking for. The boys started yelling for her to take it off, and she started teasing them with the T-shirt, starting to pull it over her head, then, just as her breasts were about to be uncovered, changing her mind and letting it fall back into place. Finally, on the third try, she seemed to say 'what the hell' and the T-shirt continued on up over her head, peeling away from her damp and firmly mounded tits. She sailed the wet T-shirt out into the crowd, which roared its approval. They wanted the thong, too, and Daryl teased them a bit with it, but it stayed on. When she was done, she got a nice hand and went to stand at the back of the stage, making way for Lauren and Jackie. Karen's Way They each did much the same kind of dance, the only variations being that Jackie was a brunette, while the other two were blondes. Jackie, who was last, was also a bit bolder teasing with her thong, slipping it far enough down in back to show off an unobstructed view of her butt. It was enough to work the boys into a frenzy. When Jackie was through, they wanted more, and said so. Suddenly someone yelled out: "We want Karen." "We want Karen!" A chill flushed through my veins and settled in the pit of my stomach. I'd been lured into a false sense of security by Mitch's little program. It was almost fun watching his salesmen act out their schoolboy fantasies. They were so childish, it gave me a strange sense of superiority, as if I were somehow above such nonsense. Hearing the call for Karen brought me back to earth. At the same time, my prick leaped to attention. The rest of the boys took up the chant. "We want Karen. We want Karen." I looked over at her, knowing with a fatal certainty what I would see. This was to be my punishment. Karen was standing in the center of the crowd, which had parted to make a path to the stage. She was laughing and shaking her head 'no', holding up her hands, palms out, as if to ward off their urging. Mitch threw her a T-shirt and the chanting grew even louder and more insistent. Finally, Karen pulled the T-shirt over her head and slipped off her bikini top. She laughed and whirled the top over her head, then let it fly off into the crowd. She went into the water and came out dripping, her luscious tits swaying seductively in the translucent skin of wet cotton. When she stepped up on the stage and turned to face the crowd, I was stricken. She looked so fresh and beautiful, so vulnerable. There was nothing I could do to hold her and protect her. She was out there for all the world, and she would see it through to wherever it would lead. Instead of beginning her dance, however, she went to the microphone. "Alright, alright. I'll go along." She grinned and shook her breasts at them. "But if I'm going to be in this contest with these beautiful girls who have so much more experience, I want to even the odds by picking the judge. Okay?" "Yeah," someone said. "Sure." "Well, okay." She pointed at me and said, "I want Jeffrey to be the judge." The boys cheered and laughed. Several of them grabbed me and shoved me forward onto a chaise lounge directly in front of the stage. I sat there dazed and frozen with fear, unable to resist the tide that swept me along. Karen turned to the three showgirls standing like a chorus at the back of the stage. "I don't want to be unfair, girls, and I think I know how we can be sure Jeff's judgment is not prejudiced. There's one reaction no man can control. Right? Not even Jeffrey." A couple of the guys near me snickered. Karen winked at them and said, "Okay, guys, let's see which girl Jeff really likes best." Suddenly a dozen hands were on me, holding my arms and feet, pulling the shorts down around my ankles. I stared dumbfounded at my penis waving free under the lights as the crowd roared. They had lengths of rope that they used to bind me to the chaise lounge. My feet were pulled down to the ground on either side of the lounge and tied to its legs. My hands were tied to the frame at my sides. Another rope was passed across my chest and under my armpits to hold me down. I could squirm, but there was no way to cover myself. "There it is, girls," Karen exulted. "There's our judge - the Jeffrey peter-meter. Now, may the best girl win." Karen signaled for music and started to dance. Her dancing didn't have the professional quality of the other girls, but it was much more convincing. Her breasts seemed to move more freely and naturally under the T-shirt, and there was a rising tide of excitement as she toyed with it. My prick, despite my embarrassment, stood up so hard and tall it ached. Karen turned away from the crowd when she pulled the T-shirt off. And she held it against her when she turned to face us. The boys were going wild. She made them wait a couple more turns before she threw the wadded shirt to them. Her breasts swung free in the bright lights against the dark backdrop of trees and sky. Karen wasn't through. Before the song ended, she teased them mercilessly with the bottom of her bikini, showing off her butt like Jackie had, then turning around and sliding it down in front to show a generous patch of pubic hair. When the music ended, she bowed and walked to the back of the stage to join the other girls. Mitch took the mike. "Wow. That was fantastic. It looks like our judge enjoyed it too." They all turned to look at my erection. I was mortified, but my prick would not subside. It seemed fixed in a permanent state of excitation, a state that penis had not known in several weeks. Mitch waved his arms. "Yeah, but I think the other three girls need a chance to register on the peter-meter, too. What do you think?" "Yeah," all the Johnson sales reps roared in unison. "Okay, then. Jeff, you ready?" I knew he was just goading me. I tried to make some kind of comeback, but it was garbled and incoherent. "Well alright. Daryl, let's see what you can do." Daryl danced, starting topless this time. She teased us with her bottoms, giving clear shots of pussy and ass, but sliding it back into place at the end. Lauren was even more generous, taking the thong all the way off and throwing it into the crowd. Jackie went one better and did some bending and squatting that showed off her neatly trimmed pussy. Through it all, my dick continued to swell. Then Karen took the stage again. This time, she threw restraint to the wind. In seconds, the thong flew off and my sweet young wife was stark naked in front of a howling mob of drunken salesmen. Worse, they were men we both knew by name, men we worked with every day. Yet, somehow, the horror and humiliation of the scene did nothing to shrink my swollen penis. Instead, the erotic gleam in Karen's eyes as she paraded before them built a pressure in my balls that I thought would burst them. When Karen laid down on the stage and opened her legs wide to show off her pussy glistening in its own juice, my dick started to pulse. Karen finished her set rolling around on stage, throwing herself into whatever degrading position she could conceive. As the music ended, she even ran a finger down between her swollen pussy lips and masturbated briefly. The last notes of the song died and the men were silent, intense, watching Karen's beautiful body clench in a powerful orgasm. They were overwhelmed, and so was Karen. She lay there limp for a long moment. It was not until she staggered to her feet and smiled shyly, then bowed and walked back to her place among the other girls that the men erupted. There were whistles, hoots and howls. Karen had to step forward for another bow before they showed any signs of letting up. Mitch walked over to the microphone. "Holy shit!" he breathed raggedly. "What a show. Who ever knew we had such talent in our midst, huh boys." The boys howled their enthusiasm. "Well, I kind of hate to declare the winner, even though it's obvious, but ..." "Wait Mitch," Karen interrupted. Every eye was on her and there was an expectant silence. "I don't think anyone has won yet. Look at poor Jeff." They did. What they saw was a rigid red dick, standing taller and thicker than I could believe. I needed release desperately. I figured my balls must have turned a deep blue. "He needs help," Karen pleaded. "If we can't make him come, girls, what kind of entertainers are we? Let's do one more set for Jeff. Mitch laughed. "Jeff, you're a lucky man. Go for it girls." Karen whispered something to the other girls as Mitch got the music started. Then all four of them came to the front of the stage and Karen led them down to where I lay squirming on my chaise lounge. The boys gave them just enough room to surround me, crowding thickly around. Karen came close enough for me to feel her heat and smell the sweet perfume of her pussy. "Jeffrey," she said sweetly smiling, "I know what you need. You just need one of us to touch you. Don't you? Then, I'll bet you'd come like a fountain." She danced around my chair. "It could really be any one of us, couldn't it? Maybe even one of the guys, huh? But we're not going to do that, are we girls. That's the game. We're going to do everything we know how to make you come without touching you." I choked. "Sound like fun?" Karen laughed. "It will be for me." With that, she moved another chaise lounge into place right in front of me. The other girls had begun dancing, but Karen threw herself on the chaise and began to finger herself wildly, squirming and thrashing up to the point of orgasm. "I think I need a volunteer," she gasped. Then there was Mitch, standing beside her, stark naked, his penis nearly as primed as mine. Karen looked up with lust-hooded eyes and reached out, caressing his balls and his tool with her hand. Then she sat up and took him into her mouth. My brain was about to explode. Mitch's dick was no longer than mine, but very thick. Karen had to open wide just to get it in. It didn't stop her, though. She began nodding her head forward and back, gently working it deeper with each stroke, till her lips were halfway down the shaft. Her hand gently cupped his massive balls. Mitch threw his head back, groaning with pleasure. Just as he neared his peak, Karen released him and lay back down, spreading her legs wide. Mitch knelt between them and ran the bulbous head of his dick up and down through her juice-slicked slit. Karen moaned, "Oh, put it in. Put it in now, Mitch. Please." Mitch needed no further urging. With two deep thrusts, his dick disappeared into my wife's aching love hole. A groan of fulfillment escaped from deep within her. Mitch supported himself over her with his powerful arms, and I could see the flush deepening on her breast. Karen was on the verge of orgasm. Mitch dropped down into her arms and they slammed together wildly, fucking with urgent, oblivious abandon. In less than a minute, Karen shook and cried out in orgasm. As she thrashed it out, Mitch's butt cheeks clenched and he erupted into her with an audible grunt of satisfaction. He plunged deep, with long hard strokes. Her legs circled his butt and pulled him into her harder and deeper. She took control of the rhythm of their fucking and wrang the last spasm out of Mitch before she succumbed to her own. When it came, she cried out, bucking against him, not letting him go soft till she was through. Finally, she let him sprawl raglike in her arms. His dick still inside her, his come dripped down over her pink puckered asshole. I fell back in the chaise, exhausted. I'd been straining fiercely against the ropes. There was nothing left in me. I couldn't understand what was happening, and I couldn't struggle against it any more. I watched with strange detachment, forgetting, for once, that Karen was my wife. I saw her only as a beautiful, passionate woman. The sick, possessive jealousy that had eaten at my soul for all those tortured months seemed to drain from me, and I felt again a pure and massive lust for her. The next guy took his turn with Karen. I knew him only slightly - Earl Willette, a big black salesman out of Dayton. He looked about six-four, two twenty. Maybe he got to be second in line by the length and thickness of his meat. He was holding it with both hands, and still four inches and a massive head waved in the air. Earl held it out to her like bait. Karen rose to it. She sat up and grabbed it. "Let me," she murmured, sticking out her tongue to lap the huge purple head of his cock. She tried to deep throat him, but he was just too big. She managed to get her mouth around the enormous plum at the end of it, but that was all she could manage. Earl began gently rocking forward and back, careful not to push too deep and choke her. She reached up to caress Earl's big black balls. He grabbed her tits and softly and gently squeezed them. His eyes hooded over with lust, and I realized he would soon be fucking her. Karen sensed his need and released him. She lay back and let her legs fall open, never taking her eyes from Earl's schlong. Mitch's glistening load was smeared around her gaping cunt. When Earl knelt between her legs and laid the bulging head of his dick against Karen's sopping pussy I knew it was a good thing Mitch had opened her up before Earl took his monstrous dick to her. As it was, Karen was ready. She squirmed and shifted her butt to give him a better angle, whimpering softly in anticipation. Six or eight of Mitch's guys stood around, drinking in the action, but they made sure I had an unobstructed view. My hardon continued to wave in the breeze. My balls ached like hell, but I almost forgot about my own problems as I watched Earl and Karen work each other into a raging heat. Earl rubbed the tip of his dick in the soft wetness of her pussy and slid the big purple head just inside. Karen stiffened, then sighed as she felt Earl's shaft push between her tender pussy lips.. Earl gave her a moment to relax, before he began to rock gently into her, allowing her to accept him an inch at a time. Karen's breathing fell into the rhythm of his thrusts. From where I sat, it looked like Earl fed about a foot of thick black-veined meat into her. Karen took it fine up to the last three inches. From there on, she moaned or gasped with each stroke, her eyes closed and her face tensed into a mask of concentration and sexual hunger. Finally, she had taken all of him and they banged together hard, again and again. Karen started to come. She gave out an eerie cry when it hit, clenching her pussy down on that magic rod, bucking and thrashing wildly. Earl snorted and groaned moments later, as he began pumping his load into her. Karen cried out, and it seemed to last forever. I felt somehow connected to the raw power of their coupling. A drop of precome dripped off the head of my dick and ran halfway down the shaft. I wanted to erupt into orgasm, and I could have. All it would have taken, as Karen said, was someone, or maybe even something, to touch me. But there was no one, nothing. My dick strained blindly in empty space. "Still no winner?" Daryl joked, padding over to me. "You think I'd be breaking the rules to suck on the judge?" She caught me by surprise. "I ... uh ... I don't know." "Well, push over." I made as much room as the ropes would let me, and she sat down beside me. The feel of her naked haunch against my own was electric, but strangely disconnected. I felt no desire for Daryl, despite her artfully prepared and presented physical package. The image of Karen, and her abandoned leap into this chaos of sexual adventure, had swollen and inflamed my consciousness till nothing else held any meaning. Daryl picked up on my distraction. "Looks like Karen knew what she was doing when she made you the judge, huh?" I was looking past her shoulder at Karen, who was pushing Earl away and looking back at me. Daryl followed my gaze. "Oh, oh. Mama Karen coming over to check up on us, see if I'm cheating?" She was right. Suddenly Karen was standing over us glaring. "So what's happening here?" she snapped at Daryl. "You run out of paying customers?" Daryl laughed. "No. They're endless. I just thought lover boy here looked a little lonely, thought I might come over and cheer him up. Anything wrong with that?" "Depends on what you had in mind to cheer him up." "Well look at him," Daryl responded, putting her hand within inches of my swollen penis. "What do you think would do it?" "I know exactly what he needs, thank you, but it's not something he's going to get from you." "So fine, why don't you show me." Daryl challenged I could have kissed her for that. Karen looked at me for a long moment. I must have looked about as pitiful as a man can look. Finally, she laughed. "I guess you're right. Shall we call off the contest, call it a draw?" "Fine with me," Daryl agreed. "Okay. Then I think Jeffrey here has done a good job in judging us and he deserves a taste of the action as his reward." She moved toward me and straddled the chaise. Her creamy oozing pussy was inches from my face. The smell of the loads that Mitch and Earl had deposited there was overpowering. Her pussy lips were red and swollen. I was paralyzed by the raw nearness of it. "What's the matter, Jeffy?" Karen teased. "Don't you want to taste my sweet pussy?" I lifted my head in a trance and stretched my tongue to meet her. The taste of Mitch and Earl was salty as she slid her inflamed pussy over my mouth. I marveled at the feel of her tender lips and explored them gently for a moment before I plunged my tongue in deeper. Karen responded as I had never known her to before. Almost instantly, she seemed on the verge of another orgasm. Her vagina seemed to open up, gushing more of the rich juices of Earl and Mitch and Karen down my throat and over my chin. She arched her back and shuddered. I could feel the sensual current flowing from my probing tongue through her body. When I finally moved up and found her clit, she exploded into a series of small cries as the pulses of an orgasm racked her. She put her hands on the back of the chaise to steady herself when the pulsing subsided. "Oh god that was good," she whispered. Behind her, Daryl laughed. "I could see that." Karen swung her leg over me and stood up again. Daryl hadn't moved. "You still here?" she asked in mock exasperation. "Yeah, I'm still here. And so's this." She pointed to my hardon, which hadn't softened in the least. "Maybe it was good for you, but Jeff here still needs some relief." I was starting to feel like Daryl was my lawyer or my agent. She spoke for me when I was too confused and blown away to speak for myself. "Yeah," Karen acknowledged grudgingly, "I guess he does. Shall we?" "Let's." They knelt on either side of me and looked over my aching tool. I was so hot with anticipation I was unconsciously straining against the ropes, muscles jumping and jerking at random. "Oooh, it's all covered with precome," Karen noted enthusiastically. "Yeah. Delicious," Daryl agreed. "I want to see him come, okay?" Karen was serious for a moment. Then she giggled. "Let's see how high he shoots. It might be a record." "Okay. You're his wife. Go ahead and take the first lick." "Why thank you, Daryl. You're so thoughtful." Then finally, I felt Karen's tongue gently touch my balls, just the teasing touch of the tip of her tongue. A moment later, she laid the flat of her tongue against my scrotum and licked. Oh, the sweet sensation that went through me. Then Daryl's tongue joined from the other side. I was in heaven. Slowly they cleaned my balls, then moved up the shaft, licking up every drop of juice that had dripped during the evening's entertainment. Just before they reached the top, I couldn't hold back any longer. My penis seemed to coil and spit with all the pent up energy of the last few hours - or maybe the last year. Karen got her wish. Whether it is the record or not, I don't know, but that first wad shot three or four feet in the air and landed with a splat on my left foot. The second spurt was even bigger than the first, and traveled just as far. My dick didn't stop jumping and creaming for nearly a minute. Karen and Daryl watched silently. When it was over, they looked at each other and laughed. "Well," Karen asked, "you know more about this stuff than I do. You ever see come fly that far?" "Not me. It's a record in my book." Karen looked at me with a tenderness that shocked me as much as anything she did that night. "I'm not surprised," she said in a quiet, serious voice. "Jeff's a good man. He only needs to believe it." Karen's Way "I can see you're right," Daryl answered just as seriously. "So don't you forget the old saying: A good man is hard to find." "I never will." Karen looked back at Daryl, a sly smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "And don't you forget the other one: A hard man is good to find." "No way," Daryl laughed, cupping my softening prick in her hand. "Shall we see if this one's got the juice to stand up twice." "Yeah," I croaked, surprising myself. "Hey," Daryl laughed, "he speaks." At that, I had to laugh. I felt like I was coming out of a trance - not just the trance of that crazy night - more like the trance of my life with Karen, all the doubts and misgivings I'd had. Suddenly it all seemed so far away, like it had happened to someone else. The new me was symbolized by the resolute hardon that, once again, began to lift itself from Daryl's hand. "Maybe we should clean him up a bit first," Daryl suggested. "Good idea." They got down and started licking again, this time making it right up to the top, cleaning off all the come. For a moment, their tongues and lips joined around the bulging head of my cock. It shot the old sexual charge through me and I could feel the hot eruption building in my balls. Before it could happen, though, they released me from their kiss and stood up, continuing to explore each other's mouths with a growing intensity. "Mmm," Daryl sighed as they broke. "Not right now. Your man needs you." Karen smiled shyly, and obediently straddled the chaise lounge. She was loose and wet as she slid down my pole, but it didn't matter. It was the best thing that ever happened to my dick, and I slid in and out in ecstasy for as long as I could hold back the fierce burning ejaculation that finally burst into her. Karen came almost at the same instant, and we thrashed desperately together. When we were through, Karen collapsed on me and we lay limp for a long time. At one point, I tried to say something. Karen wouldn't let me. She gently shushed me, without a word. A little later, Daryl returned. I hadn't noticed when she walked away, and I had no idea where she had been. It seemed the wild scene of the kickoff party had continued all the while, but I had been oblivious. Karen was lying half on me, half on the chaise on my left side. Daryl edged her way onto the lounge and me on my right. "They're crazy out there," she whispered. "This is where I want to be. May I?" Karen lifted her head from my shoulder and looked into Daryl's eyes. "Yes," she said. "This is where we want you to be." Then the three of us kissed, finding a warmth and intimacy that was all the sweeter for the unimaginable circumstances in which it happened. A few moments of that and my penis rose again. "Well," said Daryl, grabbing it, "what have we here." Karen smiled, her expression langorous. "Looks like we found a good hard man." "I think we have, at that." Daryl stood up. "Would you mind if I took a turn?" "Not at all," Karen answered. I knew that Daryl was not asking me, but it felt odd to be given away like that. What if I'd had some objection? I didn't, though. Suddenly I saw something in Daryl I hadn't seen before. She was something more than a hardened, silicone-enhanced hooker. She was a woman with natural warmth and a full set of human needs, a woman I was eager to make love to. When Karen got off the chaise lounge, Daryl went around and untied me. It felt so good to have back the use of my arms and legs. I stood up and stretched. "God that feels good," I said. Daryl lay down on the chaise, opening her arms and legs to me. "Now don't forget who set you free," she chided. "Come and make me feel good." So I did. I got on top in the missionary position, a little worried that I might not be good for the third time in one night, but Daryl knew tricks that had me hard in seconds. From there, she played me like a violin, bringing me to the edge several times, then backing down, before she finally let me come. It seemed like she squeezed the last drop of come from my balls. When it ended, I fell into her arms, exhausted. Daryl had to go back to work the crowd of delirious salesmen in the pool. They were splashing around Jackie and Loren like piranhas. Proficient as those two were, Daryl had to jump in and cut the odds. The next day, everybody slipped sheepishly from the cabins. Karen and I did too. We drove back to the city in my car. Karen smiled dreamily, sitting there, curled into the passenger seat. "That was wild, wasn't it?" I laughed. "I'd say so." "Fun though." "Yeah." "Was it?" she asked, serious for the moment. "I mean for you?" I had to think about it. "Yeah," I admitted, "I guess it was." "Good. You're not jealous?" That was harder. "I ... I don't think so. It's just ..." "What?" "Well ... what's happening with us?" I took a deep breath and plunged ahead. I don't know where I found the courage. "Are we still together?" "Of course. Why wouldn't we be?" "You know. Fucking those other guys. Mitch. I don't know." "What? You think I want a steady diet of those clowns? They're OK to play around with and pass the time, but that's all it is." She paused a moment, then added softly, "that's all it ever was." "Oh," I said. Then, after an even longer pause, "then I'm not jealous." "Good. I don't want you to be." She looked sweetly into my eyes and suddenly grinned. "It was fun, though." She was right. It was fun, and it's been fun ever since. All the stupid fears and jealousy were gone. Karen and I were closer than we had ever been, and finally, we were free to explore our own sexuality. It turned out that we both had a taste for the extracurricular. It wasn't to be feared. There was no need for jealousy. It was there to be enjoyed. The first thing we did was to get in touch with Daryl. We invited her over to dinner a couple weeks after the Sales meeting. With her professional training, she taught us more about sex than we could have learned in a lifetime without her. She and Karen have been lovers ever since, and I am always welcome to join in. In fact, it is more like the three of us share a love, in the best sense of the word. But, just because our sexual adventures with Daryl have turned into something more, it doesn't mean we can't go out and have some good, old-fashioned crazy-ass sex. We've engaged in wild scenes, some almost as unrestrained as the Kickoff. Karen has fucked dozens of other men, but none of them meant any more to her than a good time. I was a little concerned with how we would be treated at work after the debauchery by the lake, but I shouldn't have worried. Karen's sexual power, which had been strong before the Kickoff, became nearly absolute. Mitch follows her around like a puppy dog, and the rest of them regard her with awe. It turned out that Earl Willette was the most natural about the whole thing. The next time he was in the office, I cornered him. "Damn it, Earl. You want to go fucking other men's wives, you better get an operation." It stopped him in his tracks. "Huh. What do you mean?" "I mean, ever since the Kickoff, Karen's been so stretched out she says she can hardly tell I'm inside. If you're going to be using that big black hose on the wives of us normal-sized guys, you ought to at least cut off the last three or four inches, so as not to spoil them for us. Don't you think?" I finally had to laugh at his confused and worried expression. When Earl understood that he was being kidded, a big, shit-eating grin spread across his face. "You got it backwards, man. See, when you got equipment like mine, you got to treat it like a precious resource. When I saw your sorry stub, I figured Karen ought to get some real satisfaction for once." I had to laugh when I thought how this locker room kidding would have turned me to a helpless puddle of inadequacy before. Sometimes you need to experience your worst fears to understand there is nothing really to fear. Karen taught me that. To Earl, I just smiled and shook my head. "Funny how it's that stub she keeps coming back to. I guess it's true what they say: It's not the meat; it's the motion."