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The Regional Directors' Meeting Ch. 01

By: ChazThain



Debby and I go back to sophomore year of college. At least I was a sophomore. She was a senior, but we were the same age because I had bummed around for a couple of years after high school. 

I saw her across the room at my favorite hangout. She was hard to miss because she was standing with her roommate, Stacy. You can't overlook two pretty redheads together, especially when one of them is nearly six feet tall. 

Debby looked short beside Stacy, but she was really average-sized at about 5-feet-5. And her hair was a bright copper compared with Stacy's darker, Irish setter red.

I made a beeline for the pair, introduced myself and began talking. Okay, I was hustling. And before I could decide whether to focus on Stacy or Debby, a guy walked up and slipped his arm around Stacy's waist and started talking with her like a close friend.

No problem. I focused on Debby, and she was worth the effort. Bubbly and brilliant is how I describe her, not to mention sexy. She was a competitive swimmer with all the good things that means in the way of sleek, toned perfection. We saw each other often for six months, handicapped by the fact that she attended school 90 miles away and neither of us had a car. 

The distance affected our relationship for the worse, as well as her resistance to sex beyond a certain limit. The daughter of an Army officer and a classic southern belle, Debby was still a virgin at 20 and determined to remain one until her wedding night. 

Fearful of losing control, Debby wouldn't let me put my hand inside her pants. Nor would she touch my bare dick. She explained her reasons and I had to accept her beliefs, but I found it intensely frustrating. We enjoyed making out and I spent a lot of time exploring her small, firm breasts with my hands and mouth. But that was all.

Debby and I made a great pair, but I started fooling around with girls who were closer to home and more willing. Eventually we broke up. But we remained friends even after she graduated and moved away. I could count on her for birthday and Christmas cards, and an occasional phone call.

Then when I was a senior Debby stopped to see me while driving cross-country. She called from the road, so I canceled my plans for the evening and waited at my apartment. Boy did I get a pleasant surprise!

Debby more than returned my welcoming hug, then initiated a deep kiss that went on and on. My pulse -- and my dick -- were throbbing. Next I felt her hand stroking my erection through my jeans.

"Hey, what's going on!" I laughed, breaking the kiss. 

"I have a big surprise for you," she grinned, leading me towards the bedroom.

Once there she opened my jeans and pulled out my dick! Debby stared down at it for a moment, stroking me lightly. Then she looked intently in my eyes.

"I'm not a virgin anymore," she said, "and once I crossed that line I started to wonder what I missed with you. So ... do you still want me?"

My answer was to take her in my arms and resume our passionate kiss. She still had a lot to learn, but giving up her virginity seemed to release all of Debby's inhibitions. We fucked into the wee hours, eagerly trying new tricks and positions while I introduced her to the concept of multiple orgasms.

Hunger and thirst drove us to the kitchen at 3 a.m., then we fell asleep spooning naked. I awoke to find I had missed my first class, but I didn't mind as Debby pulled my face down to her chest.

"You used to drive me wild sucking my nipples," she whispered. "Do it again!"

We were both tired and sore, so we made love gently and slept for most of the morning before getting up for lunch and a much-needed shower. 

That was the beginning of me and Debby as friends with benefits. We never lived in the same city, as her career took her to New York and mine took me to four different places around the country. But whenever our paths crossed, and she didn't have a boyfriend, we jumped eagerly back into each other's arms. Emotionally, we had a special comfort and trust with each other that led to long, intimate talks as we lay entangled after sex. 

If Debby happened to be dating someone, she would let me know, and the sexual part of our friendship would be suspended. I was her "between boyfriends" boyfriend. She once bought me a plane ticket to NYC so I could escort her to her company's Christmas party, and fuck her breathless afterwards.

All that ended when both of us married within a year of each other. Unfortunately, her marriage ended in divorce after two years and mine was faltering after three. I won't get into my marital problems other than to say that it took me a long time to admit that I married the wrong girl, and even longer to correct my mistake.

Meanwhile, Debby and I hadn't seen each other in five years and had talked by phone only a couple of times. So I was delighted one night when my phone rang at work and she was on the line. It was a pleasure to talk freely with a woman after the cautious way I had to talk with my wife. 

And after few minutes Debby revealed that she was not in New York, but at a hotel only a couple of miles away! 

"Once a month, the CEO and the Regional Directors fly to your fair city for a face-to-face meeting," she said. "And the CEO always brings a few staff to shuffle documents and handle details.

"Since that's my department, I thought I should come along this month to see how things work -- and to look up old friends," she said. "So whadaya say? How about a drink with an old friend?"

I couldn't wait. But I had to wrap up a few things before I turned off my computer and left work at 10 p.m. I knew my wife would be sound asleep by now, and she never stirred when I got in bed, whether it was 11 p.m. or 2 a.m.

I met Debby in the hotel bar, where she had my favorite drink already waiting beside hers. We hugged tightly and exchanged a light kiss before settling down to some serious catching-up. An hour later we had just scratched the surface, but the bartender was yawning so it seemed natural to move our reunion to Debby's room. 

Once there she retired to the bathroom to change out of her professional clothes. When she came out, I laughed aloud.

"You THIEF!" I growled. "You stole that t-shirt from me when we were dating! You've got a lot of nerve!"

We shared a laugh and went back to reminiscing, although Debby was now in raggedy cut-offs and my old t-shirt that had been laundered so many times it was practically transparent. I was interested to see that she wore no bra.

After another hour we had dissected our failed marriages in detail and were beginning to run low on energy. I yawned, and hinted it was time for me to go.

"Remember how we used to talk all night," Debby grinned.

"Actually I don't think we ever TALKED all night," I retorted. "At least not without something else first."

We stood and I was following her towards the door when she stopped suddenly and turned to me.

"You know, I've always felt guilty about stealing this t-shirt. But I never had a chance to give it back," Debby said.

I was searching for a glib answer when she suddenly pulled the t-shirt over her head and held it out to me. I was stunned speechless. Her small, white breasts looked exactly as I remembered them, her pale, pink nipples sticking out stiffly. She had carefully avoided the sun most of her life, but she still had a sprinkling of tiny freckles across her nose, her shoulders and the tops of her breasts. I took the t-shirt and tossed it on the bed, then stepped close to her.

"Maybe I should take those cut-offs, too," I muttered huskily. "I seem to remember having a pair just like them."

"If that's the way you're going to be," Debby said, her bright blue eyes gazing up into mine. She popped the top two buttons and the cut-offs dropped to the floor, revealing a tiny pair of green panties.

"I suppose you're going to claim these panties are yours too?" she grinned, hooking a thumb into the waistband.

"I don't remember them, but maybe you'd better take them off to be sure," I said. Her panties soon joined her cut-offs at her feet. Her coppery red pubes were in their bushy, winter stage. I started to put my arms around her, but she stopped me with a hand planted on my chest.

"I think you have something that belongs to me," she said quietly. 

"If there's something that's yours, you should take it," I said, my breathing quick and shallow. She slowly unbuttoned and opened my shirt.

"This belongs to me," she said, running a thumb across one of my nipples. "I'd recognize it anywhere. And this one, too," she said, closing her lips around it. 

Oh, man. It had been a long time since anybody had sucked my nipples. In fact, it was Debby who discovered she could turn me on by playing with my nipples, late one night on a Virginia beach. My hands stroked her hair while hers were busy unfastening my belt and lowering my pants. 

"This little piggy is mine, too," she whispered, taking her mouth off my nipple to look down at her hands stroking my dick. 

"Ahhh," I groaned. "What makes you think so?"

"It's mine all right," she said, smiling up at me. "I've had it inside me dozens of times. And every time I see it, it keeps trying to get back inside me!"

She helped me out of my clothes, led me to the bed and had me sit cross-legged in the middle. When she stepped up on the bed, I remembered her favorite position. Sure enough, her feet were soon next to my hips and her bush temptingly close to my mouth. 

Debby let me satisfy my oral fetish for a minute, standing with her legs spread and her hips tilted so my tongue-tip could burrow into her bush and trace her pussy lips. I pushed my tongue between them to discover her growing wetness. But she gasped and stopped me before I could do more than brush her clit briefly.

"You can do that later," she said firmly. "You KNOW what I want now!"

Of course I did. We knew each other so well. She squatted down slowly, reaching between us to guide my dick between her pussy lips. She hesitated when my shaft entered her and met tightness. Then she slowly lowered herself -- gasping at each inch -- on the full length of my dick. 

"AaaaaaAAAAAH!" she cried, her eyes closed and her head thrown back. Her nails digging into my shoulders. "Oh SHIT that's good!"

Debby was sitting on my lap with my dick inside her, her knees on either side of me. She grinned as she put her hands on my shoulders and pushed my upper body away until I was leaning back slightly. Then she began rocking her hips, slowly back and forth, using her weight and motion to rub the mouth of her pussy against the base of my dick. 

"Fuck!" she gasped. "That's it!" and I knew her clit was positioned perfectly for maximum friction. Her back and forth motion slowed and I knew she was trying to prolong the sensations rocketing through her body. I crossed my legs to support her ass and give her something to push off of, and I tilted my hips at the exact angle she liked.

Her mouth was open now, twisted with effort and gasping for air. 

"Ohmygod!" she groaned. "Uuunnh, unh, unh!"

Try as she might, Debby never lasted long when she started riding me like that. Her normally pale skin was already flushed a delicate pink and a squelching sound could be heard each time she forced her hips down and forward. My pubes and balls were getting drenched with her juices.

Her mouth and eyes were closed as she leaned forward and began to speed her rocking motion. She was losing control ... feeling my dick seesaw back and forth inside her.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!" she cried, doubling the rocking of her hips, and I knew her climax would come in seconds.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! AH! AH! AH! AHH! AAAAHHHH!" Her cries ran together until her mouth was uttering a continuous deep groan, almost a roar, as her climax overwhelmed her.

Now I was thrusting my hips up to send my dick even deeper into her belly, and the added sensation destroyed any remnant of control.

"WAAAAAHHHH!" she wailed, then sucked in more air.

Debby cried out continuously and bucked convulsively, throwing her head back and forth with her hips, her fingers digging painfully into my biceps as she rode her climax like a huge wave. As always I was thrilled by the power and beauty of her orgasm.

When she finally collapsed forward onto my chest I laid back and held her sweaty, trembling body against me, stroking her back and flanks and whispering wordless, comforting sounds. We laid together a long time.

Finally she sighed.

"How do you do that?" she whispered.

"How do *I* do what?" I said, smiling. "*I* didn't do a thing!"

"Not true," she said quietly, resting her chin on my chest and looking searchingly into my eyes. "Somehow just touching you turns me into a sex-hungry slut."

"Maybe you know me so well that you don't have to hold anything back, or be afraid of what I'll think," I ventured.

"Mmm," she sighed. "That sounds right," then after a brief silence, "But I don't want to talk about it too much. That might ruin it."

"Whatever you say Miss Philosophy Major. Now do I get to eat the most beautiful pussy on the planet?"

"Only if I get to suck my favorite dick!" she giggled, and we spent another hour bringing her to several more orgasms and me to a rare second, until I reluctantly dressed and left her with one last kiss.

As I drove home I could still smell and taste Debby on my lips and hands. And it was then I realized my marriage was essentially over, because I felt no guilt, only a mellow exhilaration.

The Regional Directors' Meeting Ch. 02



A couple of weeks later Debby called me at work. 

"Hey handsome, is your dick still sore?" she began, letting me know she wasn't at work. 

"I'm almost recovered," I said, "So are you coming out to make me sore again?"

"Actually, no," Debby said. "I'm calling to apologize."

"What did you do NOW!"

"Um, well, we had a girls'-night-out and I got drunk and told five of my co-workers the whole story of Mark and Debby and how lousy you are in bed."

"WHAT!"

"Calm down, silly, I told them the truth ... with lots of details ... followed by a question-and-answer session. The ladies were fascinated. I believe all six of us went home with wet panties."

"It only occurred to me the next day that it might be better to keep my mouth shut," Debby said contritely. 

"I can't see any harm," I countered. "Those babes are three states away from me."

"You forgot we send admin staff to every Regional Directors' meeting, and those girls are in the rotation," she said. "So one of them might be waiting outside your building to rape you one dark night."

"You told them where I work!" 

"Did I mention I was drunk?"

"Sheez," I said, but it was impossible to get mad at her. And the likelihood of her co-workers getting the hots for me seemed near zero. So I shrugged it off. Debby helped me forget by calling me on my cell phone while I was driving home and giving me great phone sex. She was lying naked on her bed, describing every movement of her fingers. I had to pull over at a park near home and jerk of to keep from crashing.

Weeks passed.

Then the phone rang one night as I was getting organized to leave work. A woman's voice introduced herself as Margie, a friend of Debby's from work. We chatted briefly about Debby, then Margie got to the point.

"I'm in town for the Regional Directors' meeting and wondered if you would like to get together for a drink and some conversation," she said. "Debby recommends you highly."

I hesitated. A drink and some lively talk would be nice, I thought, and a better alternative than my dark house and sleeping wife. 

And Debby's female friends tended to be smart -- sometimes brilliant. Debby wouldn't tolerate people who were stupid, or pretended to be. She loved the sparks that flew when well-informed people were talking about books, movies, politics or her other passions. And Nancy wouldn't even notice if I came home late.

Then there was another possibility. Maybe she was just a lonely government worker looking for some friendly conversation in a strange city. Or maybe she was one of the five who knew the story of Debby and Mark. Maybe she had something more than talking in mind? I wondered if she knew about my encounter with Debby at the last Regional Directors' meeting.

"I'd like to have a drink with you," I said. "Where should we meet?"

"Why don't you come to my room," Margie said. "Debby told me what you like to drink and I have all the makings in the mini-bar. And that way I won't have to put on my suit again." 

I was suddenly aware of my dick pressing against my leg, somewhere between limp and half-erect. It seemed at least possible that Margie wanted more than conversation.

'If she's awful,' I told myself. 'Then, all I have to do is play dumb, finish my drink and go home.'

I agreed to Margie's plan and she gave me her room number. Fifteen minutes later I was driving towards the Marriott, racking my brain to remember details Debby had told me about her co-workers. Was Margie the 20-something party girl, the 30-something black girl who lived with her mother, or the 40-something widow? Hell, she could be anybody in Debby's office including somebody she hadn't mentioned. I was a little nervous, a little aroused, and a little intrigued. My heart rate and breathing were definitely advanced.

Some of my questions were answered a few minutes later when I knocked on the door to Room 1126. The spyhole darkened briefly and the door swung wide. 

"Mark?" she asked.

"Margie?" I replied.

"Come right in," she said and turned to walk down the tiny hall away from me. I already knew she wasn't old or ugly, although she was not young, either. 

Margie was attractive, in her 40s, with thick, brunette hair cut in a mid-length style that nicely framed her pale, fine-boned face. She was wearing a calf-length robe of green satin that covered her completely, but was snug in the right spots. I hadn't had time to assess the front view, but the view from behind was just fine. 

She led me to the small table beside the window and gestured me to one of the chairs. There were the usual signs of a business traveler's room, including a laptop on the desk. A king-size bed took up most of the space. The room's light came from the bedside lamp and the open bathroom door, and the view of the city lights was spectacular. 

A plate of fruit and crackers sat on the table, along with my favorite drink already mixed. 

"Let me know if that's too strong, Mark, and I'll try again," Margie said. "The company pays our mini-bar bills, within reason."

I took a sip and raised my glass to my hostess. 

"That's perfect," I said, "What are you drinking?"

"Roger taught me how to mix vodka martinis, and I got addicted," she said briefly. "I even carry my own bottle of olives.

"Roger was my husband," she added, a little sadly. "He's been gone about three years now, but I often think of him."

We talked about her husband (sudden heart attack), her kids (staying with grandma), her job (responsible but not powerful), and her hobby (sailing). I talked a little about myself, but stayed off the family topic. After 20 minutes, I liked Margie, admired her fortitude in raising two kids alone, and badly wanted to jump her bones.

She had kind dark eyes with a few tiny wrinkles at the corners, a generous mouth and a keen wit. Her hands looked strong and she had short, practical nails covered by pale pink polish. Her breasts were not large, but they were big enough to sway slightly when she leaned forward, and her nipples must have been fully erect. They made obvious bumps in the green robe where they pointed slightly to each side. Her well-proportioned ass I had seen when she let me in the room.

The conversation came to one of those natural pauses, and Margie took a deep breath -- lifting her nice breasts.

"I'm glad you dropped by, Mark, I dread coming to these things because I don't know anybody in town and I'm too tired to do much after sitting in meetings all day."

I murmured something sympathetic.

"Now," she said, leaning forward and gazing directly in my eyes, "You could go over to the door, say 'Good night' and let yourself out ... with my thanks. Or ... you could go over and turn out the lights and see what happens."

I admired the way she had managed the evening. She had invited me to her room and checked me out in private, then decided what she wanted. She also gave me a choice and a gentle way to accept, or turn her down, with nothing explicit being said.

I got up and walked to the door. And flipped off the lights.

There was plenty of light from the bathroom and the window, so I saw her stand and move quickly towards me while I was walking to her. We met at the foot of the bed and I took her in my arms, my hands enjoying the sensuous smoothness of satin over her firm, straight back.

Her mouth was eager, and more than that. The longer we kissed the more hungry she became, pressing her tongue deep into my mouth, fencing with my tongue, sucking at my lips. She was moaning, breath hissing in and out of her nose. Without breaking our kiss, her hands pulled my belt open, then unbuttoned and unzipped the front of my pants as I tugged her robe open and pushed it off her shoulders. 

She dropped to her knees, roughly yanking my slacks and underwear to my ankles. And a moment later her hands guided my dick into her wet, warm, hungry mouth. She moaned again and the pleasure made me throw back my head, gasping and thrusting my hips. 

I had been 99 percent erect while we had our drinks, but now my dick felt bigger and harder than it had ever been. It felt huge, filling Margie's mouth, and she sucked me hard, her tongue swirling around the head. My hands gripped her thick hair.

Then her mouth released my dick and she was on her feet, pulling me to the bed and shedding her robe to the floor. She climbed onto the bed, spread her legs wide and pulled me on top of her. Hobbled by my pants and shoes, I kicked madly until one foot came free and I was kneeling between her legs. 

She had one hand on my dick and the other on my shoulder, guiding me. 

"Inside me! I need you INSIDE me!" she cried, her face strained and intent. She pressed the head of my cock to the mouth of her pussy.

She was dripping wet. Her juices were already flowing from her pussy so that her coarse hair was soaked, her outer lips were coated and deep between them she was a warm river. I pressed down when the head of my dick felt the mouth of her pussy. And I slid inside her slowly, but steadily -- with only token resistance as her inner walls parted to admit me. 

Then the front of my hips was pressed flat against her widespread crotch. And she groaned, and groaned again a deep desiring moan of pleasure and need.

"God! Oh God! I need this, I NEED this! Fuck me! Fuck me now! Hard! Harder! HARDER! HARDER! HARDER!"

I obliged, pounding her as fast as I could. She was demanding in her need, sometimes pleading, sometimes ordering or encouraging me. She was explicit about what she wanted. The room was filled with the 'slap, slap, slap' sound of our hips slamming together.

"Give me your dick! Give it to me! Harder! Fuck me harder! HARDER!" she cried, urging me on and on.

Her cum was so fast it surprised me. As aroused as I was, I was just beginning to feel my orgasm approaching when she began to whimper, her hips began thrusting wildly and her fingers dug painfully into my biceps. 

"Oh! Oh! Oooooh, yes! Oh, yes! Oooooh, I'm there, DON'T STOP! Please! Please! Don't ever stop! Don't stock fucking, fucking me! Don't STOP! FUCKING! ME! FUCKING! MEEEEEE!

So I kept that pace while I felt her pussy walls clasping my dick, trying to hold me inside her while I pulled out and pounded back in, time after time. Margie gasped and cried out and whimpered and squeezed me with her legs. Her eyes were wide open, staring up at me, her mouth gasping, her face twisted into a beautiful mask of desire.

"Waaaaagh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Aaaaagh!" she wailed. "More! Harder! HARDER! Don't stop! Mmmmaaaaaaaaagh!

Eventually her orgasm began to fade and her mouth became slack and her eyes closed. But she was still panting like a sprinter and I still, more slowly, pulled out and gently pushed back inside her until finally she wrapped her legs around me and held me motionless. Her arms pulled me down and when I resisted, worried about crushing her, she whispered, "Lie on me, stay inside me, I want to feel you."

So we laid there for a long time, while her pussy sometimes pulsed around my dick and her breath in my ear slowed and our skin stuck together with sweat.

"My god I needed that," she finally whispered. "I wanted to rip your clothes off as soon as I saw you. I don't know what I would have done if you had left."

I said nothing, but kissed her ear and the side of her face. 

After another long, contented silence, Margie said, "Do you mind if I ask you for another favor?"

"Not a bit," I replied. 

"Well ... I'd better show you," she said.

Gently she rolled me onto my back, and then she undressed me. I enjoyed watching her body move in the dim light, curious about what she wanted next. 

When she had me arranged the way she wanted, she lifted my knees and lay down between my widespread legs. I saw her looking up at me with a grin. 

"I always loved doing this," she said, and lowered her mouth onto my sticky cock. 

Margie started slowly, sliding her lips down my shaft until the head of my dick bumped the back of her mouth. Then slowly she slid up -- until only the head was in her mouth. She stayed that way for awhile, with just my head in her mouth, her tongue licking slowly along the bottom, the side, top and other side. I moaned with pleasure as she applied suction, then went back to licking.

"Margie," I croaked. "I'm not going to last long if you do that."

"Whenever you're ready," she said, her mouth briefly deserting my cock.

So even though she was torturing me with slow pleasure, I could feel my dick swelling even larger, and my balls tightening as my hips lifted of their own accord. I tried to hold back, but it was no use. A dam burst inside me and pleasure exploded like a white light behind my closed eyelids. A flood of hot semen rushed up my dick and blasted into Margie's mouth.

"AAAaaaaagh! Oh! Oh, shit! Ohmygod!," I cried. My awareness was reduced to my dick in her mouth as I continued to shoot and she continued to suck hungrily. 

"GAAaaaaa! Uh! UH! Ohmygod! Oh! Oh! YES! YES!" I blurted, thrusting my hips and holding her head in my hands. "Oh! Margie! So good! So GOOD!"

My first strong jets of semen were replaced by weak dribbles, but still she sucked and slid my dick in and out of her mouth. Then she just took me as deeply as she could and held her mouth still, her head resting on my thigh, her tongue sometimes caressing the underside of my shaft.

We laid that way for a long time as my dick slowly deflated, but still she kept me in her mouth, occasionally giving a light suck.

Finally she let me fall out of her mouth, sighed and raised herself on her elbows, smiling. 

"I think you LIKED that," she said lightly. 

"Liked is not a big enough word," I whispered weakly. "That was incredible! I'll have to go home in an ambulance!"

"Not yet, you won't," she said, and hopped up to bring the fruit plate over to the bed. 

"Eat this," she said, popping a grape into my mouth. "We need to get your strength back up." 

So we spent the next half hour talking, eating and drinking in the middle of the rumpled bed. We sat facing each other, our legs intertwined. And when she noticed my cock twitching back to life, she reached down and stroked it lightly. 

"Do you think we could do it again?" she inquired hopefully.

So we did it again; but first I explored her pussy with my tongue until she squirmed, whimpered and exploded with long, drawn out moans of joy. Then she pulled me on top and guided my dick inside her for a long, slow fuck. She was beautiful when she climaxed staring wide-eyed up at me, squeezing with her legs, her hands pulling my head down for deep, moaning kisses.

Afterwards we lay spooned and contented until we were drifting on the edge of sleep and I reluctantly got up to leave. I thought she was sleeping, but she reached out for my hand as I headed for the door. 

"Thank you, thank you," she said faintly before her hand fell and she drifted away.



The Regional Directors' Meeting Ch. 03



I confess I searched the company's website to find out when the next Regional Directors' meeting would occur. An old news release provided the answer. They were always in the second week of the month, on Wednesday and Thursday.

The directors and staff arrived on Wednesday morning flights, met in the afternoon, stayed Wednesday night, met again Thursday, and flew home late in the day.

So once a month there was a chance I'd get a call from one of Debby's co-workers. And that call might result in anything from a friendly drink to something much more interesting. 

"A lot of them won't call," I thought. "Most are probably in relationships, happy and faithful." 

But the occasional exception would be most welcome, I mused. Especially if they're like Margie.

So I worked hard the day of the December Regional Director's meeting, making sure I could leave an hour early if need be.

But there was no call from a lonely admin assistant. And there was no call during the January meeting. 

"Too bad," I thought. "I guess Margie was a one-time miracle."

The February meeting was on my calendar at work, but I hadn't paid any attention. It was just an ordinary Wednesday night at work until the phone rang very late. 

I answered with the standard corporate spiel, which was met by silence on the line. 

"Hello," I ventured. 

"Is this is Mark? Mark -----?"

It was a woman's voice on the line -- so soft that I had to strain to hear what she said.

"Yes. How can I help you?"

"You're Debby's friend from college?" her pronunciation cultured and exact.

"Debby Baines? Yes we're old friends," I said, curious.

"This is Showanda Williams," she said, her voice gaining a little strength. "I work with Debby at the head office."

"I'm happy to meet you Showanda," I smiled, my heart starting to thump. "Debby told me she really likes her co-workers, and you're all good friends."

"Just call me Wanda," she said shyly, "and Debby IS a good friend. She's the best supervisor I've ever had."

We chatted aimlessly for several minutes about Debby and the company and my city and I realized Wanda wasn't going to take our encounter any further. She spoke haltingly, and so shyly it was hard work keeping our conversation going. I glanced at the clock and logged off my computer. I would be home in 30 minutes.

But when I tried to end the conversation Wanda took a deep breath and started anew. She began chattering brightly about some obscure corporate initiative and I quickly got bored.

"Well, thanks for calling Wanda," I said dismissively. "It's always great to meet Debby's friends even if it's only by phone. Good luck with the rest of the meeting."

I was on the point of saying goodbye when Wanda blurted, "Margie is a good friend of mine, too!"

I hesitated. 

"I met Margie when she was here for the November meeting," I ventured. "She's a wonderful lady."

I waited, wondering. Maybe this was heading somewhere, but Wanda hesitated again. There was silence on the line.

"Would you consider ... helping me ... the way you helped Margie?" she asked in a tiny voice. "I mean, here ... at the hotel."

Now it was me hesitating, and she jumped in again.

"You don't have to," she chattered. "I mean. If you'd rather not. I understand. It's late. You probably have a lot of work. I'll tell Debby you said hi. Sorry to bother you. Have a good ..."

"I'd like to see you," I said, interrupting her flow.

Silence again, then a faint, scared voice.

"Uh, good. Mm, thank you. I mean. That's great. I'm glad you can come ..." her voice trailed away.

"Maybe you should give me your room number," I prompted, and she did. So a few minutes later I was knocking on her door. It opened slowly, and she stayed half-hidden behind it, peering at me timidly.

"Mark?" her voice quavered. I smiled gently.

"I'm glad to see you, Wanda. Can I come in?" She stepped back and opened the door wide, seeming to gain a little confidence. 

I was amazed. Wanda's timid voice hinted at a small woman. But she was at least 5-feet-10, with warm brown skin and thick hair worn very short. Her height, broad shoulders and long legs gave the impression of an athlete -- or an Amazon.

But her body language spoke of uncertainty, her eyes down and her shoulders rounded protectively.

Wanda was fully dressed in prim office attire. Her plain blouse had a high collar and long sleeves, while her skirt fell well below her knees. But her conservative clothing could not to conceal her extraordinary body. 

Her maidenly blouse strained to contain an amazing pair of large, round tits that defied gravity with the help of a thick bra. They were at least a D-cup. 

Wanda's big hips flared out from her supple waist, complementing the size of her chest. And as she turned away I saw her full, muscular ass move without a hint of sag or wobble.

While driving to the hotel I had racked my brain to match Wanda with the details Debby had given me about her co-workers. 

Wanda had to be the one Debby nicknamed The Church Girl. 

The Church Girl was about 30, Debby said, lived with her widowed mother and attended church services, meetings or choir practice nearly every day of the week. She had never been married, rarely dated and had recently had her first cocktail at the girls-night-out with her office mates.

Debby described The Church Girl as pretty but timid -- almost fearful -- around men. And most likely a virgin. 

Wanda had to be The Church Girl and, judging by her awkwardness, I was going to have to take charge or spend the evening waiting for her to work up her nerve.

She stopped in the middle of the room and turned back to face me. But she couldn't meet my eyes.

"Would you like a Coke or something?" she said, looking over my shoulder at the wall. 

"Why don't you just sit here," I told Wanda, pointing to the bed. She gave me a wide-eyed look, then gained courage and nodded. She sat down, looking at her hands clasped in her lap. 

I closed the curtains and turned off all the lights. I could still see enough to navigate around the room because a thin bar of light leaked in under the door. I waited a few moments for my eyes to adjust, then walked over to stand in front of Wanda.

"Sweetheart," I said in a low, reassuring voice. "I'm going to do some things you might like -- very slowly. If I do something you don't want, just say the magic word and I'll stop. Okay? Will that work?"

After a long pause I could see her head nod slowly, and hear her soft, "Yes."

"Our magic word will be ... rhubarb," I said. "Can you remember that?"

She nodded again and I saw a faint smile.

"Okay, ready?"

I saw her take a deep breath, lifting those magnificent tits, and nod yes.

I suppose Wanda thought I would jump on her and start ripping off her clothes. Because she seemed a little puzzled when I started unbuttoning my shirt. But she watched intently in the dim light. 

My shirt came off and dropped to the floor, very slowly. Then I pushed my shoes off my feet and took off my socks. I thought I heard a small gasp when I opened my pants and took them off. Next my underwear went and I was standing naked an arm's length in front of Wanda sitting motionless on the bed. 

"Give me your hand," I said gently. She reached out and I took her hand, putting it on my half-hard dick. I molded her warm hand around my dick as it grew longer and harder. I guided her hand along the shaft and head and after a bit her other hand joined the exploration and she felt my balls. I moved a little closer to give her easy access.

"This is the head, or glans," I said, showing her, "and this is the shaft."

I quietly named and explained my male parts as her hands moved slowly over me. It seemed to me she was breathing a little harder than before. Then she surprised me.

"Do you have blue balls?" she asked matter-of-factly. 

"No," I chuckled. "Why do you ask?"

"I was told that if a man gets an erection and doesn't have a climax, then he gets blue balls and it's very painful."

"If I had an hard-on for several hours, and didn't climax, I might get a mild ache in my balls. But I wouldn't call it painful." 

"Should I suck it now," she asked, startling me again.

"Sucking feels great, but some women don't like it. So a girl who likes doing it might do it every time, but somebody who hates it might never suck a guy," I ventured.

"Oh," she said, sounding relieved. "In college a girlfriend told me sucking was the best way to please a man."

"Couples figure out what works for them," I opined. "You figure out your likes and dislikes in bed. Most guys like blowjobs, some girls don't -- so you look for something you both like."

"Okay," Wanda said. "What's next?"

"I think we should take your clothes off. Shall I do it, or would you rather?"

All the hesitation was back in her voice when she replied.

"Would you mind turning your back? I'm a little shy."

The shyness I knew about, so I turned and faced the window and listened to the faint rustlings as Wanda undressed and got into bed. More than that, she used something to block the light leaking under the door. Now the room was truly dark, like the deep woods on a cloudy night. 

"I'm ready," she finally whispered, so I turned and groped my way to the king-sized bed where I got in on the empty side. Wanda lay there tensely with the covers pulled up to her chin. I scooted to the middle.

"Do you like to kiss?" I ventured.

"I LOVE to kiss," she confided. "But I've never done too much. Kissing gets me too excited and I'm afraid I'll lose control."

"Isn't that what tonight is about? Losing control? Or at least giving up enough control to get something else you want?"

Wanda was silent, considering.

"How about if you take the next step," I said. "Come over here and kiss me as much as you like. I promise I won't even touch you."

After a moment's hesitation, Wanda moved slowly until she was lying on her left side, facing me about a foot away. She was just an undefined shape in the darkness. I heard her take a deep breath before leaning towards me and finding my lips with hers.

Yes, Wanda liked to kiss. After the first tentative peck, returned by me, she soon was pressing harder and slowly entered my mouth with her tongue. My tongue fenced with hers, then I briefly sucked and she gave a low moan. My tongue followed hers into her mouth and she whimpered.

Then she lost it. Keeping her lips on mine, Wanda rolled me onto my back and straddled me, her warm weight trapping me beneath her. Her kiss was now a full-on assault, eager and determined. She moaned and grunted and whimpered -- clearly feeling the effects of our tongue-fucking. I gave as good as I got while we explored each other's lips and mouths.

Some time later she broke our kiss and sat up, gasping.

"I know it's wrong to use the Lord's name this way. But all I can think is, 'Oh my God!' "

"Didn't God make men and women for each other?" I asked. 

Her answer was to lie on me full-length, her weight pressing me down. And we resumed kissing -- now gently, now hard. It was torment keeping my promise. I was wild to grip her muscular butt and explore the rest of her magnificent body. My throbbing dick rubbed the inside of her thigh and sometimes brushed her coarse pubes.

Eventually Wanda began to calm. Her motions slowed and her kisses became less insistent, more gentle. She slid off me until she was snuggled under my left arm, her head pillowed on my shoulder. Her hand stroked my chest.

"There's so much I don't know," she whispered. "My Father died when I was young and I have no brothers. Mother just doesn't like men. She doesn't trust them.

"My friends all know how to get men to like them, date them, do what they want," she sighed. "They're married, with houses and kids. 

"And then there's me." She was silent for awhile, her breathing calm.

"Then there's me with no man, no house, no babies," she continued. "I always wanted babies. But you can't have babies if you're afraid of men.

"Sure, you can have a baby on your own," she said, as if I'd contradicted her. "Maybe a woman can even raise a baby without a man. But if it's a girl maybe she'll be afraid of men. And if it's a boy maybe he'll end up running the streets, getting in trouble."

I realized then that she was crying very quietly. I kissed her forehead and stroked her shoulder. After awhile she sniffed and gave a quick laugh.

"You thought you were getting a woman, but you got me -- a female nothing," she said bitterly.

"But you're NOT nothing," I said emphatically. "You're just a woman with a problem. You know what you want, but you don't know how to get it. You know you need to change, but you don't know where to start.

"I think you're going in the right direction. If you're afraid of something and don't know anything about it, then you face your fear and force yourself to learn.

"Isn't that why you're here, with me, in this bed?" I concluded.

She was silent, so I kissed her forehead again and continued lightly stroking her arm. 

"I'm not afraid of you," she whispered after awhile. "Something tells me not to worry ... ."

I felt her turn her face up to mine.

"Everything WILL be all right, won't it," she whispered, and it was a statement of fact, not a question. She stroked my half-erect dick.

"Mother says a woman who has sex before she marries is a whore. But I don't believe that anymore. You probably guessed ... I'm a virgin. I think -- I hope -- a woman can be virtuous without being a virgin. 

"You'll help me won't you Mark? You understand, don't you?"

For an answer I put my hand on her cheek and kissed her lips, long but gently. 

"I do understand," I said, finally.

"Then make love to me, Mark ... anything you want. I have so much to learn."

So I kissed her and our mouths made love until the breath was hissing in and out of her nostrils. Her arousal grew each time my tongue languidly explored her mouth, or I sucked on her lower lip. She sighed passionately whenever our lips parted. Her free hand was on my dick, sometimes stroking sometimes gripping painfully. 

I took a breast in my hand and marveled at its size and firmness. I found her nipple and began a rhythmic pinching motion. It quickly sprang up and became hard, so I rolled it between my fingers and Wanda gasped.

I grasped her nipple tightly between my thumb and forefinger and pulled it straight out from her chest. Then I shook her breast back and forth hard, the weight of her big tit stretching her poor, abused nipple. She gave a deep groan. I shook her tit again by the nipple and she threw her head back and cried out, "AaAAHH!"

I rolled Wanda onto her back, captured her other nipple in my mouth and began suckling. I bit down briefly, but hard, and she responded by grunting, "UUF," and thrusting her chest up, mashing her tit against my mouth. 

My hand slid over her mound down between her muscular thighs to find a thick mat of coarse hair already soaked with her juices. She reflexively clamped her thighs together, trying to deny me. But when I kept pressing she suddenly relaxed her legs, spreading her solid thighs wide. 

My middle finger found her hole and dove deep. I began sliding my finger deep into her, raking the inner walls of her vagina as I pulled out. The palm of my hand rubbed up and down against the wet softness of her pussy lips, while the heel pressed the top of her slit where her clit lay hidden in dark pink folds.

I was sucking her nipple hard, pulling it into my mouth and holding it there while pulling my head away until the weight of her breast pulled her overstretched nub out with a pop. Then I took her nipple in my mouth and flicked it quickly back and forth with my tongue. She was writhing under my assault.

"I CAN'T," she gasped. "I ... I ... No ... ungh, ungh Ungh!"

I forced her breast and her pussy to send alternating signals of pleasure to her brain, focusing first on one then the other. Wanda's hands were on my head, pulling my mouth against her full breast and swollen nipple. And her hips were thrusting rhythmically up to meet my spearing finger, now two fingers.

It took awhile. Longer, I think, than it would for a knowing woman. But she had never had her her nipples mauled, her dripping pussy fingerfucked, her hooded clit rubbed. Her cortex had to learn to interpret those sensations, to understand the pattern, to see the crest before her and realize she would soon reach it.

Her breathing became shallow and quick, her hands gripped harder and her hips thrust faster, with less coordination. The rich, musky smell of her sex filled the darkness and her deep groans echoed from the walls. She was teetering on the edge ... and then she went over.

"AAH!" she shouted sharply, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "AAH! AAH! AAH! AAH! AAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

A spasm wracked her body and she held her hips suspended above the bed for a long moment, only her feet and her shoulders touching the mattress. Then her hips slammed down on the bed and she put her face against my shoulder. Wanda screamed a low, hoarse cry of primitive pleasure.

"OOOOOOOHMMMMMYYYYYGOOOOODDD!"

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Uuugh!" she grunted, her hips thrusting again as my hand rubbed her pussy and my fingers thrust deep inside. She reached up and pulled me down for a kiss.

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Uuugh!" her cries were muffled as my tongue thrust into her mouth in time with my fingers fucking her pussy.

"Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Uuugh!" I could taste salt tears on her lips. "Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! UUUUUUUNNNGH!" She came and came, her powerful body shivering and convulsing.

We laid together in silence for a long time afterwards. Wanda was motionless except for her ragged breathing and an occasional twitch as her body returned to normal. I left my fingers inside her, my hand cupping her crotch, while my other hand stroked her shoulder gently.

Later her kisses let me know she was ready for more and I maneuvered her onto her back and knelt between her widespread legs. And she surprised me again. 

"Wait," Wanda said, "I want to see." 

She leaned over and turned on the bedside lamp. My God she was beautiful lying there, her arms and legs outspread to welcome me! Her big tits moved with her aroused breathing and the coarse clump of black hair in her crotch parted to reveal the glistening pink of her inner lips. Her hands helped me guide the head of my dick into the mouth of her vagina.

"Will this hurt?" she asked, a little of her timidity returning.

"Maybe," I said. "Want to stop?"

"NO!" she said fiercely, meeting my eyes. "I WANT IT!"

So I pressed the head of my dick into her wet warmth and gradually leaned forward. She lifted her head to watch. The first inch or two was easy, then her passage became tighter. Very tight. Luckily she was dripping with pussy juice and I gradually slid deeper and deeper on her lubrication. Finally I could go no further, my crotch pressed hard against hers, my full length buried in her tight, wet warmth. Wanda was panting rapidly. 

I decided to speed things up. With one quick motion I withdrew until only the head of my dick was inside her. While she was still gasping at that sensation I slammed back down, burying my dick in her sheath. She cried out, wide-eyed. So I did it again and again and soon I was fucking her in a quick, steady rhythm -- each deep thrust answered by a throaty grunt from Wanda as her hips rose to meet mine. "OHMYGOD!" she gasped as the wonderful scent of her pussy once again filled the room. "OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!"

I began making a quick little upward rocking motion at the end of each thrust, stimulating her clit. She started giving a little whimper each time. I was fucking her hard enough to make her big tits quiver with each stroke. 

Slam. Slam. Slam. It was glorious. My dick felt as hard and big as a pile driver as I rammed into her over and over. Now her whimpers and groans were continuous and getting louder. I called her name and here eyes met mine.




The Regional Directors' Meeting Ch. 03



"You're a woman!" I growled, fucking her steadily. "A big (SLAM) beautiful (SLAM) sexy (SLAM) wet (SLAM) fucking (SLAM) lovemaking (SLAM) WOMAN! (SLAM)"

And she began to come, her eyes locked on mine, her mouth fixed in a wide 'O' of uncontrollable pleasure.

"AAAAGGH!" she wailed in time with my thrusts. "AAAAGGH! AAAAGGH! AAAAGGH! AAAAGGH! AAAAGGH! AAAAGGH! AAAAGGH!

She pulled me down on top of her, crushing her tits between us as I continued to thrust inside her and she continued to answer my thrusts with her hips.

"OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! MY! GOD! I'm THERE! I'm ... I'm ... ungh! ungh! ungh! Ungh! UNGH! UNGH!

It was wonderful feeling the climax rack her body. I distinctly felt her pussy sqeeze as her inner muscles milked my dick. A few more thrusts and I suddenly jerked myself upright, pulled my dick from her pussy and laid it spurting on her belly. 

"AAAAAAGGGHHH!!" I groaned in my climax. "AH! AH! AH! AH! AH!" 

Jet after jet of thick, milky sperm splashed across her broad waist as far as her tits, pooling in her belly button. She watched, fascinated, as I squeezed the last dribble out of my throbbing dick. Then she reached out curiously to catch a drop on her finger. She brought it to her nose and after sniffing it, licked it off her finger. I lay down on top of her, my sperm a warm sticky layer between us.

We laid there a long time in silence, Wanda's hands stroking my back, while our breathing returned to normal. Finally I rolled off her and we cuddled face to face, our arms intertwined. My leg pressed high up between hers, her pussy fragrant, warm and sticky against the top of my thigh. Her eyes were closed, her expression relaxed and satisfied. I drifted off for a minute, exhausted.

"Mark," she whispered. "Are you awake?"

I murmured yes, barely conscious.

"I don't feel like a whore, Mark," she said quietly. "I feel powerful and so sweet at the same time." 

I opened my eyes and grinned tiredly. 

"Let's do it some more," she smiled, and I rallied to the task.



The Regional Directors' Meeting Ch. 04



Debby called me at work two days later.

"What are you doing in the office at 5:30 p.m.? I chided her. "Don't you know the corporate world closes at 4:30 on Friday?"

"Very funny, smartass," Debby retorted. "In fact, I waited to call until everybody was gone."

"Uh-oh. That sounds serious. What gives?"

"Weeell, I thought nothing of it when Margie came back from the November meeting all relaxed and cheerful," Debby said. "But when Wanda came to the office this morning acting like a new woman, I realized something was going on.

"You wouldn't know what's happening to my staff while they're in your fair city, would you? You know ... while they're staying in a hotel just six blocks from your office."

I hesitated. Dad always said a man keeps his mouth shut. Sex had always seemed to me like a private thing. If Margie and Wanda wanted Debby to know about our encounters, THEY would have to tell her. Not that she didn't already know.

"I don't know what you mean," I lied in my most innocent voice. "Maybe they're listening to Deepak Chopra tapes."

"Huh! Right! And Dr. Phil changed my life!" she jeered.

"Oh well," she added after a pause. "Now I remember one of the great things about you. You never kiss and tell."

"Maybe there's nothing to tell," I said.

"Oh, I know better," Debby said. "You see, one of my other girls had the hotel room next to Wanda's the other night. Cindy says she counted Wanda's climaxes and was quite impressed! Then Wanda mentioned you on the flight home, before clamming up when Cindy started asking questions."

"Uh-oh!" I said. "I hope Cindy won't blab. That could be tough on Wanda."

"Rest easy cowboy," Debby said. "Cindy is a very nice girl, and she promised herself she would tell only one person -- and that was me."

"That's good. I thought of trying to get Wanda to be quiet, but she was having such a nice time I didn't have the heart."

"I know," Debby giggled. "Remember that time in Aspen when the guy in the next room started pounding on the wall?"

We both laughed.

"At this rate I'll have to put you on the payroll," she said. "Your title will be something vague ... Deputy Manager for Employee Morale or something."

"Shouldn't you be telling me what an unfaithful, slut bastard I am?" I asked.

"I got used to the idea of you doing other women long ago," Debby said. "I don't own you any more than you own me. And I'd much rather think of you fucking a good friend like Margie, or a sweetie like Wanda, than boning that bitch wife of yours."

We bantered awhile longer before hanging up, but I got an email from Debby just before the March director's meeting.

"You can forget about any fun this month," she wrote. "Only two of my staff are going. One is pushing 70 and the other is Cindy, who is happily engaged and getting married in September.

"SORRY, LOSER!" she closed.

Oh well. After Margie and Wanda I already felt like the luckiest guy in the world. So I was plenty surprised when my office phone rang on the night of the March meeting and I heard a woman's voice.

It was Cindy -- the girl who was getting married in September! And she wanted to see me! Curiosity alone would have sent me to her hotel room. It was likely she was having sex with her fiance. And the sex must be good since she was marrying him. So why would she invite me to her room? Maybe she really did want to talk?

Cindy let me into her room with a smile and gave me a drink. She wore black slacks and a form-fitting green top while a matching blazer was draped over a chair. Her shoes were kicked off under the table. We drank and made small talk while looking each other over.

I was intrigued. Cindy was one of the slimmest women I had ever seen! It was as if a perfectly proportioned 5-foot-3-inch woman had been stretched up three or four inches, leaving her symmetrical in all dimensions except the vertical axis. Her face, neck, trunk, arms and legs were long without being the least bit bony.

In fact, she gave the impression of sleekness and grace from the tips of her long toes to the widow's peak on her forehead. It was a delight watching her move her long, slender hands while talking or pushing back her straight glossy brunette hair. And her snug top clearly outlined a sweet pair of champagne-glass tits in a thin bra.

Skinny model types have no appeal for me, but Cindy was nothing like that. She gave an impression of strength and coordination like an athlete.

We chatted for awhile before she came to the point, preceded by a deep breath.

"I missed the girls'-night-out last fall, but I heard a couple of Debby's stories second-hand," she said talking quickly and nervously. "Then there was last month's meeting when I had the room next to Wanda's."

Her big, hazel eyes looked at me cautiously.

"That was you wasn't it?" she asked.

"Yes, that was me."

"So ... " her voice trailed into silence and she looked away. There was a pause and I noticed her clasping her hands together tightly.

"You could tell me what you're thinking," I prompted. "But if you're uncomfortable ... " I left the sentence unfinished.

She looked up at me with a small grin.

"Actually I have a question," she said, stopping again.

I finally told her to go on, and she looked up and away.

"It's pretty personal."

"If it bothers me, I won't answer," I prodded. She looked down at the clasped hands in her lap and the silence stretched out.

"Did you ... mmm ... do her ass?" she said, still looking down.

"No, we just covered the basics," I said, my pulse beginning to thud. Another silence fell, her face was flushed pink.

"Have you ever?"

"Yes, I have," I said, "several times."

"So ... you like it?"

"I do."

"Was it good ... for the girl."

"Well, with one girl it was her first time. She changed her mind pretty quick, so we stopped."

"But the other girls liked it?"

"One girl, actually. She didn't want it all the time. But every month or six weeks she'd whisper in my ear and we'd do it again."

A long silence followed, then Cindy took another deep breath and stared out the window at the twinkling skyline.

"I saw this movie once ... it was the hottest I ever saw," she explained. "The guy was very sexy and the girl was even better. As a couple they really turned me on ... the seductive way she moved ... the forceful way he responded. They had amazing chemistry.

"Anyway, in one scene the girl was naked, lying face down on a bed. The guy was on top of her ... he was humping her. You really couldn't see anything except their faces and bare shoulders, but my God! It looked so real ... so animal!

"I sat there squirming in my seat. I knew if I touched myself I would come and my date would hear me. I couldn't wait to get rid of the guy, go home and rub myself all I wanted.

"For a couple of years I replayed that scene in my head whenever I wanted to get turned on," Cindy said. "But after awhile it began to puzzle me. So I bought the video and watched it again.

"The position ... the angle ... was all wrong! There was no way he could get into her pussy in that position! And I realized ... he was fucking her ASS!

"Sure, they were faking it ... but they were ASS-fucking right there in front of the world ... in an R-rated movie! And I could tell the actors were turned on! They were into it!

"I ... I was stunned when I figured that out. But the next thing I did was shove both hands in my pants. I rubbed my spot a few times, then just pushed a little against my asshole. I came like mad, flopping off the couch to the floor! I even passed out a little ... .

"I went went online that day and bought my first dildo. Two actually. One for my pussy and a little one for my ass. I spent the next weekend watching that video and coming and coming. I could come right now just thinking about it.

"That was great. But after awhile I got tired of watching the movie and I wanted to be IN the movie! But when I asked him, my boyfriend was turned off. Backdoor sex doesn't appeal to him at all. So I dropped the subject. Now he's my fiance and we're getting married soon."

She paused and took another deep breath.

"So I mentioned anal again and his reaction told me all I need to know. Ron will never change his mind. I'm going to spend the rest of my life never knowing what it feels like ... the one thing that makes me crazy just thinking about it."

"So now you know why I asked you here ..." her voice trailed off, but she glanced quickly at my face before looking away again.

"Cindy I would be happy to show you what it's like," I said, "but you've fantasized about it so long ... the real thing can't possibly match your imagination. You'll probably be disappointed."

"I know that's possible, but I have to know," she sighed. "I have to know what it feels like before I can forget about it forever. It's the dirtiest, wildest sex I can imagine and I have to KNOW!"

I was pretty hot myself by that time, while realizing I had to use extreme care. It's one thing to imagine butt sex, when your mind controls every move and sensation. But it's another to attempt with a flesh-and-blood partner. The real thing requires patience and control, especially the first time.

"So, lights on or lights off," I asked.

"Definitely off!" she said, grinning. "I may be helplessly horny, but I'm not crazy enough to let a strange man see me naked!"

So I turned off the lights and saw her silhouetted by the dim glow of the city coming through the window.

"Can I ask you one favor for tonight?" she said tentatively.

"Sure."

"Two, actually," Cindy continued, breathing quickly. "Don't ... put your dick in my pussy and ... and don't kiss me on the mouth. I think I can live with my conscience as long as that's saved for Ron and nobody else."

"Okay, sounds reasonable. How about we start with a shower so we're clean and comfortable," I suggested.

Cindy agreed and we fumbled our way into the darkened bathroom and shed our clothes, laughing when we bumped each other. Luckily one of the power outlets had a tiny amber light on it, or the blackness would have been complete. She started the shower, waited for it to warm and we carefully felt our way into the tub.

"Why don't you wash me?" I said, hoping to relax and divert her with the task. Without replying, she sprayed me with the shower head, then started soaping my chest. She started quickly at my neck, then slowed to feel her way along my shoulders and down across my chest to my ribs.

Cindy washed down my front, while I washed my face and hair. She came to my dick and stroked its soapy length.

"Maybe I should look for somebody smaller," she said, smiling up at me in the dim light.

"But that's not what you want, is it?" I asked, guessing her thoughts. "You decided to do this when you knew you were coming to the meeting. And you don't care how big I am."

She seemed to blush in the dim light, and studied my swollen dick in her hands.

"You're right. I don't care how big you are, but I'm glad you're not a horsecock. My fantasies are about pleasure, not pain."

I massaged shampoo into her hair, washed her neck and moved my hands down the silky smoothness of her shoulders. Her breasts were small enough that I couldn't really cup them, so I pressed them gently against her ribcage and soaped them with circular motions. Her small nipples grew into hard little pebbles and she held herself motionless, sighing contentedly.

Then I pulled her to me and washed her back, delighting in the way my hands slid down her spine to her smoothly indented waist. Cindy's hands washed my balls and went underneath them all the way to my ass, washing carefully. My hands cupped her full, rounded buttocks, gripping them to pull her against me. My fingers rubbed gently down the crack of her ass then brushed over her puckered little hole, making her stiffen and gasp.

Next I knelt in front of her and washed her feet, carefully lifting them to get her soles and between her toes. She put her hands on my shoulders to keep her balance while I lifted one foot to wash, then the other. The 'V' between her thighs was inches from my face, a neatly trimmed bush covering the sweet treasure beneath. I massaged and washed my way up one long slender leg, then up the other all the way to her butt.

Then we rinsed, helping each other turn round under the warm spray, hands caressing gently, before turning off the shower. The dimly lit room was filled with warmth and moisture.

"Wait a sec," I said, and opened the shower curtain enough to put one foot on the floor and reach for a small bottle of hotel lotion on the counter opposite the tub. Back in the shower I emptied half the lotion into one hand and knelt again to massage Cindy's legs, smoothing the lotion up from her ankles all the way to her butt, first one leg then the other ... taking my time. Her hands rested on my wet hair.

Then I emptied the rest of the lotion into my hands and reached around to massage her butt, leaning my head against her flat belly. I could feel the warmth rising from her crotch. I heard Cindy give a long sigh as my hands squeezed her butt cheeks then started spreading lotion down her back channel.

Finally I found her puckered little hole and my slippery fingers stroked carefully over it, spreading lotion, but not penetrating the tight ring of muscle. Now she was crooning softly as my fingertips rimmed her butthole.

Turning my head I suddenly pressed my open mouth to Cindy's pussy and my tongue delved down through her coarse pubes until I found the top of her slit. I parted her pussy lips with my tongue-tip and slid down a short way before finding a firm little bump cradled in folds of flesh. I licked her lightly and she jerked, her fingers digging into my hair.

"Ohmygod!" she cried, jerking each time my tongue slid slowly across her clit. I found the opening of her vagina and gradually pushed my thumb inside, finding her warm and slippery. She was gasping and panting continuously now, her hands pressing my head into her crotch and her legs quivering slightly.

"Mmm, mmm, mmmmm!" she hummed between gasps.

I centered the tip of a middle finger in Cindy's asshole and waited a couple of seconds to give her fair warning. Then I slid it quickly into her ass up to the second knuckle. In fact, my second knuckle stopped right in the tight ring of muscle at her entrance. The muscle trying involuntarily to close on my invading digit.

She came.

Oh boy did she come! She gave a short, high-pitched yelp when she felt my finger thrust into her ... followed by a series of low grunts and hip thrusts that nearly knocked me to the bottom of the tub. I expected her reaction, but it was still hard keeping my tongue on her clit, my thumb buried in her pussy and my finger in her ass.

So I threw gasoline on the fire by starting to thrust my finger in and out of her asshole in short, quick strokes. But I had time for only two strokes before Cindy gave a short scream and her legs collapsed. Her beautiful butt hit the tub at the same time that she pulled the shower curtain down with a loud ripping sound.

I couldn't keep my tongue in her pussy in the new configuration, but my thumb stayed inside her and my middle finger was driven even deeper up her ass. So I continued to finger-fuck her ass with short, quick strokes while her cries filled the room.

"AAAH! AAAAH! OHMYGOD! AAAH! AAAH! AAH! AAAAH!"

Cindy's arms were behind her, braced so she could thrust her hips repeatedly against my invading fingers. Her mouth was open wide to gasp for air and her eyes stared intently, fixed on my hands where they disappeared into her body.

"AAAAAAAAUGGHHH!" she groaned hoarsely. "FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCKMYASSSSSS! OH YES, YEESSSSS!"

Finally her climax ended and she laid back in the tub, spasming occasionally, with her eyes closed. Her hands reached forward to hold my hands motionless. She could tolerate no more stimulation of her tender asshole and dripping pussy. I slowly slid my fingers out of her and helped her out of the tub onto shaky legs.

Drying her with a big towel, I led Cindy out of the bathroom and laid her on the bed. I covered her with a blanket, wrapped a towel around her wet hair and lay down beside her. It was several minutes before she gathered enough strength to speak.

"My god that was intense," she whispered. "I had no idea just being fingered by someone would send me to the moon."

She opened her pretty eyes and looked into my face.

"I still ... I want you in my ass. I thought I was ready ... now I KNOW I'm ready. And I know it's going to be wonderful."

Her eyes drifted closed and her breathing became deep and steady.

"But ... just let me rest ... I have to recover ... just a little."

So I let her rest.



The Regional Directors' Meeting Ch. 05



The April meeting passed without incident, as far as I was concerned. Then Margie emailed she was coming in June and I was looking forward to seeing her. So I didn't think much about the meeting in May. 

Again the adventure started with a phone call at work and this time the caller was a young woman named Terry. After introducing herself and explaining her connection with Debby, Terry said she needed a favor. But she supplied no details ... not even a hint.

"Really ... I could explain it better in person," she said.

So I headed for the usual hotel with more questions than usual. 

"This could be the time one of Debby's friends needs help with a stuck zipper," I thought. 

Terry was about 5-foot-3 with an average build and dirty blonde hair cut in an appealing shoulder-length style. In her late 20s, she had the cute, fresh-faced look of a country girl, which is exactly what she turned out to be. 

She invited me in and we sipped drinks while she told her story. My eyes wandered back and forth from her sweet face to her full tits plainly visible in her businesslike blouse. She was probably a C-cup, I decided, but her breasts looked perfect in proportion with her chest and shoulders. I hoped I would get a chance to explore those beauties. 

"You wouldn't believe how often your name is whispered around the office," Terry began, grinning widely. "It's like you're this big secret the girls are dying to talk about, but won't discuss out loud.

"I heard about you one day while I was making copies. Two of the ladies were gossiping just around the corner and didn't know I was there. I overheard that you were an old friend of Debby's, discrete and willing to entertain ladies in their rooms during the Regional Directors' meetings.

"I don't think those girls had actually met you, but they heard a story from somebody who heard a story ... ," she said smiling apologetically. "And I began wondering ... "

She paused for a long time, looking at me shyly. I shifted a little to give my swelling dick more room inside my pants.

"But first I should warn you that I don't need anything ... sexual ... from you," she said, looking apologetic. I struggled to hide my disappointment. 

"I've heard you've ... helped ... other girls from the office. But I don't want to give you the wrong idea. My problem ... well ... do you have time for a long story?"

Apparently I wasn't going to wind up in bed with Terry, which was disappointing considering her fine body and appealing looks. But she had stirred my curiosity, so I waited to hear her story.

"I started fucking when I was 14, not thinking much about it," she began. "I knew all the older kids did it. I was a tomboy and spent most of my time running around with guys anyway -- fishing, riding horses, shooting tin cans, swimming in the creeks ...

"So it was no big deal when a guy offered to show me his if I showed him mine one hot day under the highway bridge. I think I was 12. From there he went on to feeling my little tits, then fingering, then fucking me. Sometimes I jacked him off and it was fun to watch him get all flushed and start groaning and twitching. For those few minutes I felt like I was in control.

"That was Jimmy Burris who was four years older, a star football player in our little town and my next-door neighbor. I held out for a long time, but once he started grabbing me, I knew he wouldn't give up. I used to let him fuck me once in awhile. The first time was just messy and it hurt. After that it felt good, but nothing spectacular. I kept expecting something more. 

"Jimmy was dating one of our cheerleaders, Leslie Little, and trying to get in her pants. He told me all about it. I was fascinated because she was beautiful ... a redhead with blue eyes, gorgeous pale skin and a few tiny freckles on her nose. She had these sweet little boobs, too, just perfect under a tight T-shirt. 

"Then one day I saw Jimmy go into Leslie's house when I knew her parents were shopping in Grand Island. He was there a long time, and not long afterwards walked by my house and I went out to meet him. We walked the creek down towards the river and he started talking.

"He finally got to fuck Leslie, but she wouldn't let him come in her. She pushed him off just as he got going because she wasn't on the Pill. My god he was frustrated! 

"He was grabbing me by this time and we were out of sight down in some cottonwoods. I felt a little flushed after hearing Jimmy had fucked Leslie, and I let him pull my cutoffs down.

"Then he opened his shorts and I smelled it ... really I smelled HER! His dick REEKED of pussy! I grabbed his shaft and it was still sticky with Leslie's pussy juice. His pubes were all matted with half-dry juice, and the smell made me crazy.

"I lost it! I dropped to my knees and took him in my mouth and started sucking. His dick had been ... INSIDE Leslie Little! I was tasting her PUSSY! I was grossed out and incredibly aroused at the same time. I sucked his dick from top to bottom, getting as much of her juice as I could.

"Jimmy was surprised because I had always refused to suck his cock. But now I was gobbling his rod like a hungry calf going after a cow's tit. He started coming while I was trying to get the last taste of Leslie. Suddenly he shoved his dick deep and my mouth was full of sperm ... warm, gooey and bitter tasting.

"Now it was my turn to be surprised. I gagged and spat and spat some more, trying to get his load out of my mouth. Meanwhile Jimmy had turned me over and was fucking me doggie-style. He took a long time to come again, which was okay because I was in another world, dreaming about Leslie Little and how AMAZING she tasted!

"After that, whenever I saw Leslie I flushed bright red, remembering I had tasted her pussy! But more and more I began to suppress those feelings. I knew it was wrong to feel that way about another girl ... against God's plan. Finally I decided never to think of her again. It was hard to drive Leslie out of my mind, but I was determined not to be a pervert."

Terry told me she had dated and slept with several guys through the years. Those relationships were okay, but she had never fallen in love or felt really satisfied. She rarely had orgasms and then only when she was alone with her vibrator. 

And her sex life had gradually dried up in the years after college. Now at 27 she rarely dated and found herself in a rut of going to work, the gym, then home to watch TV until bedtime.

"I've been thinking something's wrong with me," Terry said. "Why do I always get bored and let my relationships fade away? Why don't I feel any deep connection with the guys in my life?"

Looking back over her short life, Terry realized uncomfortably that she had felt the hot fire of passion only once. And that was when she tasted a beautiful girl's pussy on a boy's dick beside a creek in Nebraska. 

Was she a lesbian and just too repressed to admit it? Terry asked herself. And if so, what could she do about it?

"So that's why I asked you here tonight," she said. "I want to go to a gay bar and see if there's any connection. But I'm too chicken to go by myself."

"You want me to take you to a gay bar?" I said, amused. 

"Well, yeah, is that okay?" 

"It would be different, that's for sure," I said. "Did you have one in mind?"

Terry had obviously done her homework because she mentioned a couple of gay bars that advertised in the local alternative newspaper. I frowned.

"I've never been in those places, but I've heard some rumors," I said. "I think one caters to truckers and the other has had drug busts. How about Burt's Bar?

"Burt's? With that name it could be in my hometown," Terry smiled.

"Burt's used to be a quiet neighborhood bar on the edge of downtown, but it was bought a couple of years ago by a lady who's been changing the place," I said. "For years I've stopped there for an after-work beer, so I got to know the new owner.

"Cassie is gay and she wanted to make the place gay-friendly without chasing away the old-timers. She says the old-timers pay the rent, while the new crowd provides the profit. 

"So she remodeled Burt's one room at a time and put in a dance floor and bar upstairs. Now it's a neighborhood joint until 10 or 11 when the younger, hipper crowd starts to arrive. The old-timers still drink beer downstairs, but the upstairs crowd likes to dance and flirt and turn up the music. And since Cassie is lesbian, a lot of her customers are gay. And if we strike out at Burt's, we can try somewhere else."

Terry looked relieved at the idea of starting her quest at a not-so-gay bar. And that made me realize she was nervous despite her appearance of confidence.

Cassie was working the downstairs bar when I led a newly hesitant Terry into Burt's. 

"Hey Mark! You're later than usual!" she boomed, then she raised her eyebrows as I led Terry to the bar. "What have we here?" she asked, reaching out to shake the young woman's hand.

"Cassie, this is Terry. She's a friend of a friend from out of town," I offered. 

"Any friend of a friend of Mark's is welcome here," Cassie beamed, giving me a one-armed hug while looking Terry up and down. "What are you drinking?"

"Actually, we thought we might go upstairs," I said. 

"Whoa!" Cassie said. "This is new. You haven't been up there since you helped me finish the dance floor!" 

"That's not true," I said grinning. "You forgot last Halloween."

"Crap, yes!" she hooted, her eyes wide above her smile. "I forgot about you and that gladiator costume! The girls and boys both wanted your sandals parked by their beds." She turned to Terry. "I didn't even recognize this guy until he took off his helmet. He won the prize for Best Costume and second place in the dance-off! There's nothing like a leather kilt to show off a guy's legs."

Terry was laughing openly now, much more relaxed. Cassie has the great gift of putting everyone at their ease. She's equally at home talking football with a union carpenter or trading cooking tips with a suburban mom.

"So why join the young and restless upstairs?" Cassie asked, leading us to a quiet spot at the end of the bar.

"Terry wants to explore her options, but I'd better let her explain," I said. Terry flushed with embarrassment, but seemed encouraged by Cassie's kind look.

"I ... I think I might be a latent lesbian," she muttered, avoiding Cassie's eyes. "So I asked Mark to take me to a gay bar." 

Cassie looked skeptical. 

"Most gays realize they're different in their teens," she said.

"There WAS an incident when I was 14 that makes me think I lean towards girls," Terry said. "That and the fact that guys don't do it for me."

"Then maybe it's worth your time to go upstairs and look around ... meet some girls, dance and talk. You'll have a good time anyway," Cassie said, squeezing Terry's hand. "Good luck!" 

So Terry and I headed upstairs, found a table near the dance floor and ordered drinks. She looked around curiously, while I watched her take in the scene. 

In fact, there was little to indicate whether the young crowd was gay or straight. True, some of the girls had aggressively short hairstyles and some of the guys were too pretty. But nine out of 10 would have been at home in any sports bar in America. 

Then the music started and couples gradually filled the dance floor including a couple of same-sex pairs. Terry's eyes scanned from couple to couple, while a small smile came and went on her face. She looked very appealing in the soft light despite her businesslike skirt and jacket. I enjoyed the way her breasts strained against her blouse, and sighed with regret. 

Terry was one of the most attractive women in the room, but she was drawing little interest. I wondered if the upstairs crowd thought we were a couple, so I leaned over to speak in her ear. 

"What if I go downstairs for awhile so people know you're available?" I said. She turned to look at me wide-eyed ... partly excited, partly embarrassed. 

"You don't mind? Maybe somebody will ask me to dance?"

So I wandered downstairs with my beer where Cassie and I chatted and watched a game on the big TV. The game ended in a blowout, but before I had time to wonder how Terry was doing Cassie looked towards the stairs and said, "Helloooooo!"

I turned and saw Terry coming down the stairs, arm-in-arm with a tall, slender blonde in a motorcycle jacket. 

"That's Lynn," Cassie whispered in my ear. "Your girl has picked a fireball!"

Before I could ask for an explanation, Terry was introducing me to Lynn who had a strong handshake and self-confident gaze.

"Terry and I are going to her room for a drink," Lynn said, staring into my eyes. "And she says you're her escort."

She paused, looking me up and down.

"I told her you can come, but you don't lay a finger on me," she said assertively. Beside me, Cassie laughed out loud, but Lynn ignored her.

"No problem," I said, while wondering how strange the evening would get.

Terry and I took my car back to her hotel, while Lynn roared along behind us on a bright red Sportster ... the kind with no "girlfriend" seat.

"This what you want?" I asked Terry.

"I think so," she replied, smiling nervously. "I think she's hot. And boy is she forward!"

So a few minutes later the three of us were in an elevator and I had a chance to look Lynn over. She was slender and tall, maybe 5-8, with bleached blonde hair in a short, spiky cut. Her thin triangular face was made remarkable by a pair of piercing gray-blue eyes, a small straight nose and full, pink lips. I could look at her freely because she was entirely focused on Terry who was blushing brightly, unable to meet Lynn's gaze.

A tight, red t-shirt contained Lynn's small round breasts under her leather jacket. And an Indian silver belt threaded the loops of her black, straight-legged jeans. Her jacket and heavy boots were scuffed and worn, indicating she was a real biker, not a weekend warrior. She wore no makeup I could see, and she had small silver studs in her pierced ears. A tiny silver motorcycle hung around her neck on a silver chain.

Once in Terry's room I got myself a beer and sat at the table by the window overlooking the city. Terry stood at the foot of the bed, watching Lynn warily as she circled the room once and peeled off her leather jacket. Then she stopped facing Terry.

"You going to back out?" she asked, issuing a challenge. Terry shook her head, and said "No" softly.

"Look at me." And Terry looked up, her expression a mixture of excitement and fear. 

"I'm always running into little suburban chickies who think they want to walk on the wild side," Lynn said, her eyes boring into Terry's. "Then it's 'Oh no, sorry, I didn't mean to go this far.' " she said in a mincing voice.

"Hell I don't go THAT far! Not with a virgin. But I'll be seriously pissed if we get going and you suddenly decide girl-fucking is not your cup of tea!"

Terry's hands were visibly trembling, but her voice was steady. "I'm not going to back out."

"Okay then," Lynn said more quietly, and leaned in to kiss Terry. 

That first kiss looked more gentle that I expected, an exploration rather than an assault. They drifted closer and put their arms around each other and the kiss grew longer and deeper. They were into it now as Lynn held Terry's face between her hands, kissing her deeply. Terry's hands rested firmly on Lynn's slender hips as she returned the taller girl's attentions. There was a faint moan that sounded like Terry.

They broke the kiss but continued staring into each other's eyes. Lynn started to lean down for another kiss but Terry stopped her with a quick gesture, then turned towards me. 

"Mark, would you mind? I think we'll be okay now." 

I was briefly startled when I realized I was being dismissed. I grinned and stood. 

"Too bad, I guess I don't get to watch." Lynn grinned widely at me, a slight blush on her face, and Terry was smiling up at her.

"Good night, you two," I muttered, and a few seconds later I was headed down the hall shaking my head. This Regional Directors' meeting included an intimate adventure, but I wasn't in on the party. Spoiled, that's what I was, after Margie and Wanda and Cindy. I smiled wryly at myself and headed for my darkened house and sleeping wife.