7 comments/ 35771 views/ 11 favorites Jillian: Putting the Ass in Asset By: urban_legend555 Afternoon Delight "Not only is she beautiful," Derek was saying, "but she also has a ravenous sexual appetite." The screen flickered into life and Jill's face was smiling electronically at the room full of men. They all knew her from the wedding and various other gatherings at their host's home. And, of course, some knew her better than that. There was no doubt that she was beautiful. Now the news about her sexuality added a fresh dimension to their appreciation of her. "Was this at Summerdale?" Wesley spoke out. "Yes. Three weeks ago," Derek answered. The room fell silent attending to the sound of her voice on screen. Her giggly, mischievous laughter brought a smile to their faces. She was relaxed, secure in her privacy, and enjoying the intimacy of her encounter. Summerdale was a perfect setting for a tryst. Remote enough that no one would be dropping by during the wo rk week, but still close enough to drive out to for a few hours of illicit fun. Sheldon would hover in the brokerage, undistractible as long as the market was open, and Derek was tied up in court pursuing a lengthy civil case. Poor Margery would be at home with her bourbon, too sodden to drive and too morose to want to. Jill was kneeling on the bed now. Her wide mouth was animated, pouting, clucking, inadvertently posing for the camera she didn't realize was there. Her discarded blouse was bunched on the bedspread. She looked wonderful in her bra. The deep cleavage that jiggled with her laughter gave way to a flat stomach and full flaring hips, still covered with her short summer skirt. "That's no question to be asking a lady!" she scolded light-heartedly. "Those are things between a wife and her husband!" "Tell me," a male voice insisted. "Has he ever fucked your bum?" "Oh you are such a rude man!" she admonished through her laughter, moving up further on the bed on all fours. "That's what you love about me isn't it?" he responded. "A rude tongue and a stiff prick?" Jill eased down on one elbow and rolled onto her side. The soft white cones of her bra-covered breasts heaved with a contented sigh and she stretched her arms toward the voice. Her skirt had pulled up to reveal the full sweep of her lovely legs and she made no effort to tug it back into place. "You are so bad," she smiled. "I don't know why I put up with you." "I'll just bet you don't," he snickered. The bed dipped with another person's weight and Derek's oldest son Peter came into the camera's view. "My little brother's not enough cock for you. Or maybe you're just too much pussy for him." Jill stretched languorously. She knew full well how men looked at her and she enjoyed it. From a very early age she had learned the advantages of being a woman and now it was second nature to her. She felt his eyes leave hers and travel down to take in all that she was showing. "I guess you'll have to decide," she smiled coquettishly. His hand pushed the hem of her skirt higher exposing the pink panties beneath. "Did he buy these for you?" "Yes," she admitted, lowering her eyes. "In New York. For Valentines Day." "Ah hah. A gift of love or lust. Did he want to fuck you in them? Or just look?" "He wanted me to wear them," she confided, "... while we did it." "Did what?" Peter demanded. "While we fucked," she whispered demurely. "That's more like it. There's nothing earthier than an unfaithful wife. Did he make you model them for him too?" "Yes. He likes to look at me in my underwear." "And you like men to look don't you?" he chuckled. "You're getting wet just thinking about it." Her answer was barely more than a hiss. She had moved her arm up so that her face was covered by the crook of her elbow. Jillian had grown to know that men like women who succumb in spite of being embarrassed. The little flush that crept into her cheeks was the veneer of innocence that added greatly to her appeal. Peter liked to play with it; making her say the words that brought the pink to her cheeks; having her perform in a way that nice girls weren't supposed to. "Get up on your knees," Peter demanded brusquely. "Show me what you've got." He had made her do this before. She knew what was expected. The very first time they were together he had shocked her with his requests. Now she looked forward to the slutty feelings they brought on in her. Jillian cupped her breasts and lifted them toward him. He liked to see them fondled by her own hands and made to quiver and dance when she shook them. She liked to see the flame they lit in his eyes when he watched her. The power of her sexuality turned them both on. "You were made to be fucked," he sneered. "By anybody that wants you." "Anybody?" she arched her brow mischievously. "You've never said no to anyone have you?" He was lost in the sight and scent of her. Each calculated move she made sucked him deeper into her allure. Her eyes never left his, reading and measuring the effect she was having on him; knowing that he found her irresistible in spite of himself. "Did you want me to leave Sheldon's panties on?" she smiled. "Or shall I take them off?" The mention of his brother's name upset Peter. His sister smiled up at him from the bed fully aware of what she was doing. Peter didn't have a loyal bone in his body but he hated to be reminded of it. "No. Take them off." he ordered. "You take them off." she smiled seductively. "They were a gift from my husband. Only a member of his family should remove them." He grabbed at them and she rolled away with a giggle. From the far side of the huge bed she flashed her teasing smile and slipped her hand down the front of her underwear. "Does Maureen enjoy sex?" she asked. "Not like you, she doesn't," he retorted. "I have to coax it from her." "Well what does she do? She must have to masturbate if you're not turning her on." The remark was a deliberate goad at Peter's fragile ego. He felt challenged by her manner and disloyal discussing Maureen. "We have a great sex life," he pronounced defensively, hoping there was finality in his tone. "What does she do?" It was the second time she had asked the same question. Peter could tell she was trifling with him but could not resist the bait. "Everything. She does everything," he snapped back. Jill was lying back on the bed in just her pink panties. The dark shadow of her pubes was clearly visible through the thin material. She kept her legs askew, occasionally fanning her thighs in and out, delighting in the fact that Peter couldn't avoid looking there. "I've heard that women with small breasts are particularly sensitive," she smiled disarmingly. Her hands went to her own bosom and played there absent-mindedly while she waited for his answer. Peter bristled at the question. He had no intention of letting her manipulate him that way and the reference to Maureen's flat chest stirred his protective instincts. But Jillian looked so damn delicious, almost naked and deliberately taunting him. There was no proper answer for her questions and only the telling of their most private things ever satisfied her. And this was about satisfaction. He wanted the woman on the bed before him; craved the wild abandon of her thrusting hips and the panting carnality of her; the unadulterated enjoyment of sex that his wife never seemed to achieve. "Take your panties off," he commanded. She stopped the to-and-fro movement of her legs and opened them wide pressing the soles of her feet together. Her hands slid down her torso slipping beneath the elastic waistband to caress her stomach. "Then tell me what she likes. I'd like to hear. Tell me some of her dirty secrets." Peter reached out and grasped the fragile fabric of her panties. "Get these fucking things off before I rip them off." "They were a gift from my husband," she reminded, "and your brother." He drew his hand back and watched as she eased them down over her hips. The black profusion of her pubic hair looked incongruously beautiful against her creamy skin. Like everything else about her it was lush and abundant. Not like his wife's sparse covering which was as childish and underdeveloped as her breasts. Jillian watched his eyes travel over her belly and thighs and she brazenly opened her legs to afford him the fullest view. It excited her to be looked at so intimately and she reveled in the lust that shone in his face. "See anything you like?" she chortled when he didn't speak. "Everything," he replied. "A perfect cunt." "Why thank you. I'm glad you like it." "No. I mean you. All of you. You're a perfect cunt. A body that won't quit and the willingness of a street whore." "Do you think of me as a whore?" she asked. "Yes. A beautiful horny woman. A whore in the bedroom." She moaned in response and her fingers found the folds of her sex. He was only inches from her, watching her play and she enjoyed his attention. "Dirty little girl," he whispered and leaned forward to rest his cheek on her upturned thigh. The warm scent of her was beguiling. The sound of her fingers flicking in her wetness enthralled him. Only once had Maureen ever let him watch her and that had ended with disgust and recriminations. "A perfect cunt . . ." he smiled, kissing Jillian's hand and licking her coated fingers as they worked. Her hand moved to the back of his head, moving him, positioning him for what she badly wanted. The smell of her sex filled his nostrils and the warm salty taste of her brushed his lips. His tongue traced the edges of her cleft, parting the soft folds and circling her clit. "Ohh! Oohh!" she gasped. "Oh that feels sooo good!" Her hips rose to meet his probing tongue and her palms pressed against his temples. Waves of the purest pleasure radiated through her belly and she could hear her distant voice exhorting his effort. It was her very favorite thing no matter who was doing it to her. She wondered aloud if he did this to Maureen and then tried to picture them doing it. The thought brought on another orgasm and another until her chest hurt from holding her breath. She was glad for a moment's respite while Peter crawled up between her legs. His face was wet from her, and his hair was tousled. She reached down and stroked his penis, gently squeezing his balls with her other hand. He was hard and his cock felt hot. Not as large as her husband he was still a decent size. But men were so paranoid about things like that. "Do you want me to fuck you with that?" Peter wheezed in her ear. "No. Wait until you're hard," she whispered, knowing he was fully erect but playing to his insecurity. He took her hand away then holding her crossed wrists in his one hand above her head he asked, "Does he make you come like that?" "Yes. He does." She smothered her grin in his shoulder. "I always come a lot when he does it." "You're a fucking machine," he whispered as his cock slipped into her. "You come no matter who it is." *** The screen hissed and went blank. For a long moment no one spoke. Derek hit rewind and the tape whirled into reverse. Derek was the first to break the silence and he looked around the room pleased with the reactions he saw. Sheldon seemed relaxed and comfortable, not troubled at all by the antics of his wife. After all, sex was a commodity and he was a trader. "Well? Does anyone not agree that she's beautiful?" There were chuckles and murmurs enough to convey their agreement. "Would you still have married her if you'd known about her 'appetites'?" someone asked Sheldon. "I married her because of them," he replied. "She's never once turned me down for any type of sex in the three years we've been married." "Nor has she turned down anyone else," Derek gently chided his son. "In truth, she's exactly the kind of woman cherished by this order." he continued. "And there is no doubt she has a body. What a shame it would have been if she'd been made with that figure and no sex drive." An ironic laughter percolated through the group. They thought of their own situations, spouses who occasionally did their 'wifely duty', or habitually picked and chose what they would or wouldn't do. Wives who avoided sex at home but had their little affairs on the side. The joyous sound of Jillian cumming replayed vividly in their thoughts. The inexhaustible pulse of her hips and the gleeful way she spread her legs unabashedly offering herself for scrutiny. "She seemed to enjoy flaunting herself," Andrew observed. "Have you seen that yourself Shel?" "She does indeed. Always has." "How does it happen usually?" Andrew pursued. "She loves the attention. Everything she wears ... everything she says ... everything she does. A little peek here and a little flash there. She likes people to see her, and naked is better." "By people, do you mean men and women?" "Hell yes. She likes other women to get a look too. She likes to be admired, even lusted after but she also likes flaunting it to women if she thinks they are jealous of her looks." "Has she ever been with a woman?" Sheldon shrugged and said "Not that I have on tape. I'd love to see that myself. I wouldn't be surprised if there have been some encounters. But none that she's shared with me at this point." "I'd love to see that thick bush shaved and Jillian getting some serious tongue from another woman," said Wesley. "And her giving it back in turn," enthused another. "Can you set that up?" Derek turned to Peter. A shrug was all the answer needed. "When?" he wanted to know. "As soon as possible, of course," Derek laughed. *** All That Glitters ... Jillian's mouth hung open in disbelief. Her car was gone. And with it her cell phone and purse containing the keys to Summerdale. She walked back through the trees and circled the big house trying every door and window hoping to find one unlocked. But, there was none. For a few minutes she sat on the screened-in porch pondering her next move then decided there was no choice but to walk out to the highway and try to flag down some assistance. Her high heels were too unstable to walk in on the gravel road so she carried them, along with her stockings, and picked her way carefully through the stones in bare feet. The afternoon had turned out badly.. Peter, first called to ask her to meet him and then inexplicably didn't show up. She had waited almost two hours for him. And now the damn car! That would take some explaining. She contemplated telling the police that it was stolen from the mall in town. Better that than having it on record that she had been out at Summerdale. No need inciting anyone's speculation as to why. "Just a little not-so-innocent fucking, officer," she could say, and the thought brought a wry smile to her face. Long shadows of the late afternoon striped the laneway reminding Jill to hurry. She could see the county road a couple of hundred yards ahead but, had not seen a single car go by. "Damn!" The narrow pavement of the secondary highway was encroached at the edges by swirls of loose gravel and, in the absence of cars, Jillian made better time walking down the faded yellow stripe. For nearly a mile she'd trudged on before the hum of approaching tires caused her to move off to the side. The driver was a woman and she crunched to a stop in the loose gravel and listened incredulously while Jill described her plight. "Well you're in luck," the pretty blond woman smiled. "I'm in real estate appraisals and I'm just going out to do an evaluation at Summerdale for the insurance renewal. I have a key and can let you back in now, then drive you back to town when I'm finished." Jill couldn't believe her luck. The two chatted like comfortable old friends, glad of each other's company. Inside the house, Nancy took a cursory look around as if wondering where to start, then pointed to Jill's dusty feet and laughingly suggested "you might want to clean up a bit while I do my work." Jill sat on the edge of the tub and turned on the taps. Her intention was to just wash the road grime off her feet but the comforting warm water felt so good she decided a quick bath was more in order. Carefully folding her clothes on the vanity she slipped languorously into the oversized tub and adjusted the flow to her liking. The soothing liquid had scarcely covered her legs when the door swung wide and Nancy, seemingly oblivious to the concept of privacy, blatantly appraised Jillian's naked assets. There was open appreciation in her face as smiled down upon her and quite brazenly stared at Jill's lovely figure. "Don't mind me," she giggled. "This woman has to work you know!" Jillian didn't mind her at all. As far back as high school, being seen without her clothes always gave her a special thrill. She enjoyed the communal showers after gym class and the covertly appraising glances she got from her classmates. Even their jealousy, so often etched in their faces, was a kick. There was no doubt that Nancy was taking in all that was revealed and that caused Jillian to pose a little for her benefit. She stretched her arms high above her head and smiled at the other woman. "Oh! This bath feels wonderful!" she beamed. "And you look pretty wonderful!" Nancy beamed back. "My husband would give a month's salary to see you in that bath." Jillian lathered her breasts while Nancy watched. Slowly, she massaged the creamy soap down onto her belly and thighs making the black hair of her pubes seemed even blacker next to the white suds all around it. Nancy's eyes never once averted from her display and Jillian liked the covetous way the other woman looked at her. "Do you ever masturbate in the bath?" Nancy asked matter-of-factly. "All the time," Jillian smiled, pleased at the other woman's frankness. Nancy knelt on the floor beside the tub. Picking up the washcloth from the water, she leisurely rinsed the foam off the brunette's stomach. Bemused by the other woman's attention, Jillian relaxed her thighs allowing Nancy to wash between her legs. "I hate the taste of soap," she winked, maneuvering the cloth over the soft poutiness of Jill's mound. The warm water and the salacious touch of her new friend filled Jillian with a sense of luxurious sensuality and she closed her eyes, content to lie back and enjoy Nancy's gentle ministrations. Even Nancy's finger pressing the rough terry wash cloth between her buttocks didn't give her pause. Half an hour later, wrapped in towels she lay down on the master bed while Nancy rubbed her all over, drying, patting, and murmuring her admiration for Jill's beautiful curves. She found a bottle of lotion in the bathroom cabinet and then spent a long time on those special libidinous zones that women know so well. "What were you really out here for?" Nancy whispered conspiratorially. "To meet someone." "Man or woman?" "Man," Jill smiled conspiratorially. Nancy leaned down and kissed the upturned thighs of her prey. Jill murmured her appreciation and lightly touched the back of the other woman's head, moving her closer. "You're beautiful," Nancy crooned. She knelt then between Jillian's legs and hastily removed her own clothing. Her breasts were a little smaller than Jill's, and nicely shaped. Her pubic hair was trimmed into a neat swath that ended above the swell of her labia. Below that she was smoothly shaved exposing nicely rounded lips to Jillian's gaze. The unfettered prominence of her hairless pudenda was a mesmerizing icon for Jillian and she found herself unable to look away from it. Nancy, noting her fascination, moved her hips in a suggestive manner simulating fornication. She tucked a pillow under Jill's neck raising her head and moved up until she straddled the brunette's ribs. Jillian: Putting the Ass in Asset "Kiss it." she hissed. "Kiss me there." Her hands went behind Jillian's head raising her further while she inched up to straddle her shoulders. Jill's heart was pounding hard and she tried to relax by closing her eyes but Nancy ordered them open. "Look at me. Look right there where your mouth is going." Jillian's eyes, glazed with lust, widened as Nancy moved ever closer. The fragrant musk of her wafted to Jillian's nose and the salty liquid of her brushed against the brunette's waiting mouth. Nancy's hands held Jill's head snugly and her hips rocked forward pushing her sex against the younger woman's mouth. "Taste me now Jill," she whispered. "Kiss me there. . . French kiss . . . use your tongue. . . lick me. . . " Jillian moaned loudly. Every fiber in her being felt drawn to the carnality of what was happening. The forbidden fruit of another woman had sometimes beckoned in the past but never before with such puissance. The headiness of the other woman's scent was an overpowering aphrodisiac, filling her senses with the want and the will to do Nancy's bidding. Long buried images of that day in the gym teacher's tiny office flooded her thoughts and her senses forcing her recall and whetting her anticipation. She opened her mouth and pressed against the warmth and wetness before her, electrified by Nancy's gentle humping against her lips and tongue. Softly muttered words that nice girls were not supposed to say, added to the arrant eroticism, sending ripples of desire undulating through her belly. Her tongue swathed the pungent folds swaddling the turgid tip urging it from its sheltering hood. The intensity of pleasure was building in Nancy. Her hips flicked uncontrollably. Jillian's hands gripped the taut womanly flesh of her buttocks, pulling her closer, trying to maintain contact and control of her clitoris. Several grunts and a plaintive shriek announced Nancy's orgasm, followed by a staccato of breathless yelps. Her fingers cradled Jillian's head pressing the woman's face firmly into the core of her pleasure. The soft insistence of Jill's tongue felt wonderful and she arched forward watching her, reveling in the completeness of her control over the pretty brunette. She knew Derek would be pleased. Nancy lay sprawled on the bed panting while Jill gathered strength beside her waiting for her turn. Moments passed and Nancy made no move to reciprocate. Tentatively, she ran her fingers across the others belly trying to hint subtly that she was waiting. Nancy brushed her hand aside. "Don't. I can't come again just yet. I'm too sensitive there for a while." The rebuff startled Jill and she took Nancy's hand and placed it between her legs. "Oh! You're all wet!" Nancy protested, pulling her hand away. Bewildered, by the rebuff, Jill rolled towards her and kissed her lightly on the shoulder. The need between her legs seemed more urgent now as relief seemed less likely. "I'm still very aroused," she whispered. "Yes. I understand you are most of the time," Nancy snorted. The warm friendliness had gone from her voice and her tone was definitely disdainful now. "That is why you were out here wasn't it?" Disconcerted by the change in Nancy, Jill was at a loss for words. "Wasn't it?" she persisted. "Weren't you out here to meet Peter for sex?" Jill hadn't been aware that Nancy even knew Peter. The fact that she did, and, she appeared to know about them, added to her confusion. She wondered what else the woman knew and how she just happened to come along with a key to Summerdale. Nancy saw her confusion and ran her finger across Jillian's mouth. With a malicious little smirk she taunted the bewildered woman. "Enjoy a little pussy for a change? I understand the guys like your mouth too." Jill tried to protest but Nancy cut her off with an abrupt "Open!" With three of her fingers grouped together she pushed them into Jillian's mouth moving them in and out, and urging Jill to "suck them like a cock." The urging was all Jillian needed. The flood of desire once again swept over her stiffening her nipples and wetting her below. Nancy's assertiveness ignited the inner passion she had for exhibiting herself. She sucked with relish, embellishing her sensuousness, and enjoying the spectacle she was making. Her hands crept across the flat plane of her belly and began the practiced rhythm. "Oh, you are horny little thing," Nancy chuckled, amused by such a shameless display. She watched while Jillian quickly brought herself to the brink of cumming, then pulled the woman's hand away before she could find the relief. A loud sigh of frustration and a whimper for permission to continue brought a smile to Nancy's lips. ''You really want to come don't you?" she teased. "Yes . . . oh god! I'm so horny!" Jillian whined, her hips moving to show her need. "Well you'll have to wait ... because I'm ready again," she announced selfishly. Jill lay limp and frustrated on the bed. Her tongue ached and her own unfulfilled need hovered, waiting, yearning for the favor to be returned. But Nancy seemed to enjoy drawing out her longing. It was now apparent that she had never had any intention of reciprocating. Rolling onto her side and gazing down into Jillian's face she sighed. "You were very useful today." "Useful?" Jillian bristled at the condescension. "Yes. I've been wanting this for some time," Nancy smiled. The picture was now coming clear for Jillian. Nancy's stopping on the highway was no fluke. At first Jill had dismissed it as happenstance. But the coincidence of it all was looking unlikely. That, along with her earlier mention of Peter, was unsettling, making her realize with some trepidation, that there was an agenda behind it all. Her first thought was that Peter had engineered the whole afternoon with first her car gone and then Nancy showing up the way she did. If that was truly the case, his lack of discretion worried her deeply. It meant that Nancy knew a great deal about their illicit relationship. And now she in turn would tell him what Jillian had done for her. And god knows who else she would tell. Jillian sat up and began to hunt through the bedclothes for her underwear. Concern now added to her frustration. She could feel Nancy's eyes never leaving her as she wriggled into her bra and the air crackled with what was still unsaid between them. Her panties had fallen onto the floor and she shook them out finding the front from the back. But before she could pull them on Nancy playfully snatched them away. She rolled to the middle of the bed and giggled at Jillian's surprise. "It's getting late. I have to get back," Jill protested. "As it is, Sheldon will wonder where I've been all day." "Do you really think he will?" Nancy teased. "Won't he just assume you were here fucking Peter?" All doubt about what Nancy may or may not know left with that question. Jill looked stunned. Denial raced to her lips but Nancy's knowing smirk left the words unuttered. Her mind ransacked her thoughts trying to find some clue to whatever collusion may have brought her here. In the end there was just confusion. And there was Nancy. Smiling gleefully, watching Jill's bewilderment with obvious amusement. "I'm ready again," she implored sweetly, letting her legs drift apart. "I've been ready longer than you," Jill baulked, moving off the bed and hunting for her other clothes. "What are you suggesting about Peter and I anyway?" "Suggesting? I think it was more a statement than a suggestion. Peter brings you out here regularly and uses you for his pleasure." "Did he say that?" Jill snorted derisively, hoping to make the likelihood seem ridiculous. "No. Actually it was Derek who told me." "Derek?" Jill was incredulous. "My father? That's absurd!" Nancy just smiled and continued. "But Peter was there." Jill could feel her face flaming. The thought of the three of them together discussing her indiscretions gripped her with worry. She enjoyed her lifestyle as part of their monied family and greatly feared losing it. She had thought that her relationship with Peter strengthened her hold within the family but having the details known to Derek frightened her. He was the family patriarch and ran both the business and the family with an unchallenged authority. Nancy could see the worry in the pretty brunette's face. The implications of being found out weighed heavily on her just as she knew they would. Jillian stood at the foot of the bed waiting with uncertainty for Nancy to continue. "Tell me what else you know," Jillian ventured. "Everything," Nancy smiled impishly. "I know everything." "And Derek knows . . .?" "Oh yes." "How could he?" Jill sounded incredulous. The white-haired father of her husband was always cordial but she had never felt close to him. He accepted her as an appendage on her husband's arm, suitably decorative but not really of any great consequence. He was of the old school, treating women politely but never involving them in 'weightier' matters. "He hardly knows I exist," Jill muttered. "How could he know what Peter and I've been doing?" "They all know," Nancy chirped, gleefully motioning Jillian over to take care of the unfinished business between her legs. The distraught woman's truculent frown and sigh of frustration amused her as she guided the pretty brunette's head down. She liked the lack of assuredness that had taken over from Jill's initial self confidence. Accustomed to being the manipulator, Jill was clearly not happy in the subservient role and Nancy was having fun pushing her buttons. Jill felt like crying as Nancy pushed her down. She was resigned to going along, hoping that Nancy would confide in her and elaborate on just who knew what where she was concerned. It galled her that Nancy totally refused to take care of her needs after insisting that Jill repeatedly go down on her. But she'd do it to find out all that the woman knew. Jill paused and planted a preliminary kiss on the woman's smooth-shaven labia. "No. Not his time," Nancy cooed softly, pushing her head lower. "This time lick my bottom." * * * "Recreation, my dear," Derek was saying. "Your role is recreation. We weren't looking for a civic-minded woman to work in the community, or a homemaker to bake us bread," he laughed. "You like to fuck. You look very classy in the family portraits, and still get wet at a moment's notice. That's what your role in the family is." Jillian could feel the stirring in her belly. She should have been incensed but instead she felt the emergence of feelings that had become her preoccupation. Derek had pulled no punches in discussing her situation; no denial of his part in defining her 'role' as he put it. There was no doubt he thought her beautiful and she blushed to hear him say it. It was her prime asset and the one that had attracted the family to her. That and her 'preoccupation' of course. "We ran checks on you all the way back to your high school days," he chuckled. "Prettiest girl on campus. And the easiest. How old were you anyway when you first got laid?' "Fifteen," she lied demurely. "No. That's not true. We found a guy who screwed you when you were fourteen and he swears you weren't a virgin then. Hell, he says you were the best piece of ass he's had, before or since. And the best looking." Jillian blushed deeply, embarrassed by the accuracy of his information, but pleased just the same. "And how many women have you been with?" The question surprised her. Derek's thoroughness led her to assume he knew the answer to that question. She looked at him through her lashes trying to determine if was testing her or if he did know. "... Doesn't matter how many," he continued. "Nancy said you were not inexperienced. Is there any truth to the rumor that you were getting it on with the Grade 12 Gym teacher Mrs. Cortner?' Jillian turned her face away to hide her surprise. It had all been so secretive. A warm feeling of shame and excitement spread through her loins. "Yes," she answered in a quiet voice. "It's true." "You just never get enough," Derek smiled. "But that's why we courted you for Sheldon. You're a family asset." Her husband looked across the room at her and smiled. He was sitting with Peter listening to Derek and watching Jillian's reactions. "She truly is a gorgeous woman," he thought. His eyes strayed down to the well filled front of her cashmere sweater and noted the raised outline of her nipples through the soft fabric. Most other women would have run from the room in a panic by now. But Jillian sat and listened, apparently getting turned on. "A fucking machine," he smiled to himself. Derek was standing in front of her now, kissing her on the forehead in a fatherly way. She was the toy he had always wanted; willing to play and be played with, never refusing to do what she does so well. Jillian was a rare find. Under other circumstances, a talented and expensive whore, but theirs to share and enjoy as a member of the family. "Peter tells me you have quite a dirty mouth," Derek continued. "That's good. I like that in a pretty woman." Jillian was blushing. Being the centre of attention was nothing new to her. Her figure usually saw to that. Yet having her sexual penchant discussed in front of others was marvelously titillating. She hung on his every word, conscious of the scrutiny of the others who scanned her features for reaction. The gentle suggestion of her nipples in the light green sweater had become more obvious. Like irreverent stanchions, they impudently poked up the soft material drawing the eye and sending the unequivocal message of her arousal. Jill's own awareness of their visibility augmented the growing warmth in her loins and contributed to the sense of exposure that she loved so much. She wondered if Derek would make her undress and the notion send a tumult of sensation coursing through her private parts. "I don't even mind that you've been such a liar," he laughed. "It's a legitimate expectation that a woman will try to protect her reputation, particularly if she is as promiscuous as you. But, there'll be no need for that now. You know that it is the libertine quality that we so much want in you. As I have said, it's a family asset. However, like any asset, it is not to be given away at random. We recognize, encourage, and admire your sexual needs, but from this moment on, you will not have sex with anyone without the permission of myself, Sheldon, or Peter. Is that clear?" Jillian nodded her assent. The concept of 'permission' rankled her, but she didn't argue. Men always have to stake out their territory. Every man she had ever been with tried to make her his own at some point. That's what made the cheating fun. *** A month went by without her seeing Peter and the discussion at the house seemed all but forgotten. What had seemed like a new beginning, a coming out for them all, puzzled her more and more as day after day passed without follow up. Jillian stood in front of the mirror smoothing her skirt into place. 'A family asset,' she mimed into the looking glass, mocking Derek's words. She stood sideways and admired the shapeliness of her behind. "I guess we know who puts the ass in asset." she muttered. The phone on the bedside table jangled into her thoughts and she picked it up on the first ring. Derek's voice greeted her kindly, summoning her to his office for a meeting. He wouldn't say what for, but Jill had a gnawing feeling low in her belly. She checked herself again in the mirror, added a little perfume to her wrists and cleavage and hurried out the door. Derek's office was on the top floor of the Butler Building in the heart of the downtown area. It took her almost forty minutes to navigate through the traffic and park, and then ride the chrome and oak elevator to the suite. He was waiting for her when she arrived. Marilyn, his secretary, ushered her straight in to see him. Her father took a moment to look her over appraisingly, making her stand and turn around for his inspection. "It's been a quiet month for you," he chuckled. "You must be climbing the walls." Jillian smiled sweetly lowering her eyes to study her hands. It had been quiet. She'd been afraid to do anything for fear they would find out. Sheldon had been away on business and Peter was seemingly avoiding her. Quiet really wasn't the word for it. "I have something for you to do." Derek began. "It's important. It's business but . . . it's fun too." His clear blue eyes fixed Jillian's as she waited for him to continue. "I want you to spend some time with an important client. His name is Mendelsohn and he's at the Sheraton on the River." Jillian blinked away her surprise. She looked hard at Derek trying to read the meaning of his 'spend some time'. She wondered just what being a 'family asset' now entailed. "What am I supposed to do with him," she asked apprehensively. "I guess I'll leave that up to him," Derek replied evenly. Not up to her. Up to him. The meaning was obvious and not lost on her, but Jill chose to be obtuse, wanting to hear him say it. "Are you asking..." she began but Derek cut her off abruptly. "Let me be very clear Jillian. A man's Achilles heel is between his legs. I want you to take him out to Summerdale and fuck him blind. We'll catch the two of you at it. Mr. Mendelsohn will come here the next time suitably contrite and negotiable wanting his indiscretion to go away quietly." Derek moved beside her chair, looming over her, waiting for a response. When his fingers pulled at the buttons of her blouse, her hand covered his. He had never touched her before and it seemed so wrong. He was her father, the family patriarch. Any test of marital boundaries forbade this happening. His hand moved to the graceful curve of her neck where he toyed with the fine gold chain she wore. In one quick move he snapped it and pulled it from her neck. "Trinkets." He snorted. "Trinkets and trappings. Nice clothes . . . jewelry . . . a sporty little car. . . How much do you think you'd have if you were still working in an office?" Jillian blushed deeply. She loved the trinkets and trappings. Loved the moneyed life. It was so different from the way she was raised, always minding pennies and checking price tags. The chain rattled into Derek's waste basket, the implications obvious - what can be given can just as quickly be taken away. Jill began to unbutton her blouse and Derek stopped talking for a minute to watch her progress. The silence seemed thick and ominous between them; a man who had every confidence in his power and a woman who understood her place. She whispered a superfluous 'sorry' in an almost inaudible voice as she unhooked her bra and shrugged it off her arms. "You're an acceptably smart woman Jill. Not brilliant but acceptable. As I explained the other day, you're here for what you bring to the table, physical beauty . . . and a penchant for sex. It was just a matter of aligning your needs with ours for mutual benefit." With that the door opened and Marilyn hurried in to put some papers on Derek's desk. She averted her eyes and didn't acknowledge Jillian, ignoring the fact that she was obviously getting undressed. Her nonchalance was not mirrored in Jillian however, who tried to cover herself in front of 'the help'. Derek's eyes twinkled as he saw the opportunity. "Marilyn. Would you take Jillian's clothes and lock them in your credenza please?" Marilyn stopped abruptly and began picking up the discarded garments. Jillian looked aghast that her position in the family was so tenuous as to not warrant discretion in front of the paid help. She looked to Derek for consideration but the steely glitter of his pale eyes erased any likelihood that he'd relent. He grinned at her, savoring her discomfort, while her disbelieving eyes implored him to change his instructions. Jillian: Putting the Ass in Asset Jillian's moment of awkwardness was interrupted by an impatient nudge on her arm from Marilyn who was waiting for the clothes. Eschewing any visible reaction, Derek's assistant showed the efficient indifference of a loyal employee following the boss's orders without question. Slightly unnerved, Jillian continued to silently remove her clothes while Marilyn smugly gathered each item. When she was naked except for her high-heeled sandals Derek interrupted speaking only to Marilyn "Let her keep those on. Also, if you'd be so kind as to bring the Nikon in, I'd like you to take a few shots". Then looking directly at Jillian he smirked "The dirtier the better. *** The Sheraton parking lot was crowded. Jillian took a quick survey for a decent spot before giving up and heading for the valet parking area. The attendant sprang forward to open her door and stood a little too obviously watching as she swung her long legs around. Her short dress clung to the seat letting it ride up even further and that was enough to broaden the man's welcoming smile. Jillian, for her part, was used to being ogled and couldn't resist a little 'eat-your-heart-out' teasing. She dropped one foot to the pavement letting her thighs separate enough to make his day while holding out her hand for his assistance. As an afterthought, she leaned back to retrieve her purse from the passenger seat giving him an excellent view of her panties. He watched her walk away rolling her lovely ass with each enchanting step. Mendelssohn was waiting in the lobby. An older man with a prominent nose and thinning white hair, he was an unlikely looking escort for Jillian. Not expecting anyone of her beauty, his eyes narrowed when he saw her and he muttered under his breath. They had breakfast in the hotel coffee shop and Jillian worked her magic setting Mendelsohn at ease. She chattered on, charming the older man with her vivacity and good humor. He found himself forgetting the 35-year difference in their ages and falling into the web of fascination he hadn't felt for years. Where he'd thought initially he'd have a quick breakfast with a Butler representative and then excuse himself, he now felt content to let Jillian show him around. As if in a moment of inspiration, Jillian clapped her hands and leaned in to speak to the older man. "I just thought," she enthused placing her hand over his. "Why don't you let me get you out of here and show you a bit of the area around the city?" Mendelsohn was captivated. Jillian's bubbly personality and the two open buttons on her blouse had the old man eating out of her hand. While Jillian used the Ladies room he waved their waitress over and paid the bill. A few minutes later he was ensconced in the passenger seat of her black Mercedes and they were heading out of the city. They drove through the beautiful rolling green hills chatting like life-long friends. At lunch time Jillian had another inspiration and found a village bakery to buy fresh bread, cheese, salads, cold meats and two bottles of chilled cabernet. They pulled into Summerdale and Jill made a show of 'hoping' there was a still a key under the urn on the porch. Mendelsohn was delighted when she found it and let them into the Butler country house. The meal was delicious and by the time they uncorked the second bottle of wine Mendelsohn was totally relaxed and infatuated with his beautiful companion. The middle button on Jillian's blouse had worked its way loose and the gorgeous curve of her breast added to the older man's enjoyment. She convinced him to take off his jacket and tie and help her finish off the wine In another moment of sudden inspiration, Jillian grabbed a blanket from the porch at Summerdale and led Mendelsohn along a path to the back of the property where a stream had been dammed up years ago to make a lovely little pond. She spread the blanket out for them on the lush grass under a century oak. Mendelsohn could not remember having a better time. Jillian was enchanting and the older man was under her spell. On a whim she kicked off her heels and waded into the shallows of the pond paddling her feet and laughing as she sent a silvery sprinkle toward where he sat. She tried to get him to take of his shoes and socks and wade with her but he didn't want to get his trousers wet. Jillian was daintily holding on the hem of her dress as she pranced in the refreshing water seemingly unaware of how much she was showing. "I only brought one business suit," he explained, "and I need to wear these pants for tomorrow's meeting with Butler." She splashed a little more, and then giggled conspiratorially. "We could just paddle around in our underwear. It's not much different than a bathing suit and no one will ever know..." He laughed at the absurdity of it; two adults paddling around like children in a wading pool. He thought it outrageous that she'd even suggest it although he considered it might be worthwhile just to see her in fewer clothes. Before he could make up his mind Jillian stepped out onto the grass and pulled her dress over her head. Smiling mischievously she did a little pirouette, hopped back in the water and splashed about some more. Mendelsohn laughed and felt awkward in his reticence to join in. He couldn't remember the last time he did anything like that even as a kid. Jillian looked gorgeous kicking up her feet and obviously enjoying the moment. He gaped at the incredible sight of her lush figure swelling the pale turquoise of her underwear, her perfect breasts lacy bouncing and jiggling in the skimpy bra as she cavorted about. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the way her boy-cut panties clung to her beautiful ass and flat belly unable to hide the enticing shadow of her lush black pubic patch. Jillian held out her hand to him, wordlessly imploring him to join her and the older man couldn't resist. He took off his shoes and socks, carefully folded his shirt and trousers on the blanket and turned to face her in his boxers. Without his clothes he looked less intimidating and his pale skin cried out for the sun. Shuffling forward, he waded into the water hardly believing what he was doing but drawn towards the laughing cavorting nymph. Jillian squealed in delight and immediately tugged him into the deeper water. He stumbled and the two of them fell together dipping beneath the surface momentarily then sputtering and laughing uproariously. The sight of the cool water turning Jillian's underwear transparent captivated Mendelsohn. She was unabashed frolicking in her near nakedness, flaunting herself provocatively and he was mesmerized by her every move. It had been years since he felt a connection so strong with anyone, and never with such a beautiful, effervescent young woman. He was used to the deference people gave to him in his position whether out of fear or respect, but this was different. The openness and intimacy of the lovely creature infatuated him, erasing the near forty-year difference in their ages and making him feel viable as her counterpart in such a provocative tableau. Giggling mischievously, Jillian stripped off her panties and then tugged playfully at his shorts. Her hands found his manhood and she pressed her nakedness against him. Mendelsohn gasped as she coaxed him erect and shuddered deeply when her hand cupped his balls. His own hands found her bra and he struggled ineptly to release her breasts before she redirected his hands to the closure at the front. Jillian's mouth, open and demanding, covered his and the gentle softness of her tongue urged his lips apart. The gentle scrape of her nails and her steady tug and release on his swollen member awakened a rusty libido that had been too long dormant. With a primal groan he reached for her, barely grazing her breast before she danced away and pulled him from the water. She knelt just long enough to take him in her mouth and suck him noisily until they collapsed together onto the blanket. Her knees separated widely and she pulled his head between them while her belly arched up to meet him. It was clear what was expected and Mendelsohn didn't hesitate. The tip of his prominent nose buried in the profusion of black curls while his tongue found the softly yielding seam of her labia. The smell was exquisite and the sweet musky taste of her amazing. His tongue burrowed deep in her furrow and she gasped noisily around his straining cock. She cried out when his lips closed over her clit. Pushing back the hood with his tongue, he exposed the tiny rampant bud and felt Jillian jerk uncontrollably when he sucked. Her belly undulated with the intense pleasure while her mouth kept possession of his cock, milking the swollen shaft with her hand while she bathed the purple head with her tongue. She knew he would come soon and after a few moments she wiggled onto her back pulling him over top. Mendelsohn wriggled between her thighs while she writhed beneath him muttering a mantra of carnal encouragement. He wanted her badly. But, more than that, he wanted to satisfy her. The tip of his erection nudged her labia and the glorious warmth of her silken tunnel enveloped him in a wet paradise of sensation. Bracing her feet, Jillian arched her back and pushed herself up to meet each stroke. Her left hand gripped his buttocks and she urged him deeper while her other hand slipped between them to massage her clit. Before they could even settle into a rhythm she felt his thin legs begin to stiffen. He tried to hold back and last a little longer but a helpless grunt escaped his lips and he gave in to the unrelenting urgency in his belly. He came with a loud hiss and an anguished wail while Jillian locked her long lovely legs around him and rode him through a few brief spasms. "Did you cum?" he enquired when his breath returned. "Yes," she replied kissing him affectionately on the cheek. "Thank you for asking." "That was wonderful," he wheezed. "You're incredible!" She rolled onto her side and slipped out from under him. Her knees straddled his head and her hands squeezed his face. There was no denying what she wanted and Mendelsohn didn't resist. Still saturated and dripping with their combined juices, Jillian pressed the glistening pink cleft of her sex hard against his mouth. He tried to turn his head but she held fast and roughly rubbed herself on his face. Her hands made a cradle behind his head and she pulled him in tight until her cunt lips pressed against his mouth. "Tongue," she snapped, and he obediently responded. She was demanding now, not caring whether he was enjoying it but just intent on her own pleasure. Her pubic bone repeatedly bumped against his lips punishing him thoughtlessly. He struggled to lick where she wanted, and he thought he felt her cum several times when her belly tensed the waves of wetness filled his mouth. His jaws were tiring and his lips felt puffy when Jillian suddenly shifted forward, getting her feet underneath her. She was squatting above him still controlling his head, rocking her mound against his face, and letting his prominent nose dip into her folds. She hunched forward a little more and his mouth pressed against her perineum; then once again until his captured lips pressed against the dusky pink whorl of her anus. Mendelson baulked slightly and she gripped his head tighter pressing down and ordering him to "Lick It". Tentatively, he offered his tongue and she pulled hard on his neck forcing even tighter contact. "Lick it good," she hissed. "Put your tongue right inside." Mendelsohn, still overcome with lust and infatuated by her, reluctantly complied. His tongue slipped beyond his bruised lips burrowing itself in the tightness of her sphincter, his nose buried in the saturated folds of her labia. "Deeper," she gasped and he stretched his tongue, wiggling it to-and-fro until the muscle throbbed with exhaustion. He was on the verge of giving up when Jillian shuddered and mewled a series of mouth-open yelps before collapsing on the blanket. Her womanly secretions and his own ejaculate glazed his weathered face. Fatigue seeped into every fibre replacing the ardor that ebbed away. He fought the mixture of shame and disbelief that diluted his feelings of conquest savoring the carnal satisfaction that left him so drained. His tired cock lay shriveled against his leg and he just wanted to wash the stickiness from his body, rinse out his mouth and get dressed. With a curious feeling of guilt and pride, he raised himself on his elbows almost in disbelief and watched Jillian, naked, glistening with sweat, curled in the fetal position, catching her breath. Moments later he lay back in the refreshing waters of the pond rinsing away the residue of their coupling. The gentle splashing of the water felt good until he heard Jillian, still curled up on the blanket. It was then that Mendelsohn began to feel the first shards of regret pierce the order of his privileged existence. She was sobbing. To be continued ...