Work Days
In the weeks prior to all of this, work had been hectic. The firm was preparing to make a bond offering for a water works company and there was considerable anxiety and consternation about it that I frankly did not totally understand. What I did understand was that I was expected to stay late and join in the frantic pace of the coming weeks.
I really didn’t mind. There was something fun and exciting about the chaos and the strong camaraderie that ensued. Having never been through one of these events, I was attracted to the strong bonding that grew stronger as the issue date approached.
All this frenetic energy all around me happened to coalesce with what was happening to me at home. Joey’s obsessive interest in exhibiting me, his growing attention to my clothes, and new found insistence on my public sexuality, had come to produce profound (and welcomed) changes in me and how I felt about myself.
I was so much more confident about my overall appearance, but especially about my body. It was such a strange transition. I had become a chrysalis, exchanging my old drab, figure-obscuring wardrobe for the clothes Joey approved of now. And I felt a corresponding change deep inside of me. A new and much more confident woman was emerging, one who could admit to the growing sexual nature inside her that Joey had, intentionally or not, released. And sadly, a sexual tension Joey was less and less able to satisfy wholly.
So maybe a more shameless woman was emerging, too. In the past few weeks, two different men had not only seen my naked breasts, but fondled them. One man had undressed me in public and written his cell number on my breast! Worse, I had no regrets, none at all. Quite the reverse, in fact. I liked being looked at. I liked being the object of men’s fantasies. I could never go back to the old me.
The clothes I chose to wear to work more and more began purposely to evidenced the body beneath. I wore thin lacy bras when I wore one at all, and thongs or more often, nothing at all under my short tight skirts and dresses. I grew to love the feeling of being utterly naked beneath my clothes, and the less I wore underneath, the more guys stared, and the more guys stared the more I liked it. So like in classical psychological conditioning, I tended more and more to wear less and less. In short order, I not only became comfortable with but actually came to crave guys staring at me. I especially liked it when my two bosses noticed and complimented me on my “fashion sense!”
The week after Joey’s reunion was the week the bond issue was due, and to put it simply, it was utter chaos and frenzy. And it was terribly exciting. Everyone was working to near exhaustion, especially my two bosses, Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton, and me. We’d work well past 6:00, go for a quick dinner, come back and work until 10:00 or 11:00 many nights, and then just collapse in the conference room amid the mess of brochures and prospectives. Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton would then pour themselves brandy and we’d all just relax and compliment ourselves on how hard we work. The first time they offered me a glass, I refused, but at their insistence I later accepted. In the days following it became a sort of ritual, and one I looked forward to.
The day of the bond sale was the most hectic of my life, and it was sometime near midnight when all the work was finished. I was truly grateful when the day ended and the three of us gathered in the conference room to celebrate. We were drinking and laughing and enjoying the success of the weeks of hard work, and I was in an ebullient mood, made even better by Mr. Compton’s telling me how proud they were of my dedication and work ethic and that there would be a significant bonus for me as a result.
I was totally relaxed and extremely happy. The brandy had never tasted so rich and smooth. I felt wonderfully close to Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton right then, and I could sense they felt the same way. We finally could relax openly and celebrate the success of the bond sale.
I was growing just a teeny bit inebriated when Mr. Damon asked me if I like to dance.
“I do,” I said, “and I’m quite good at it too,” I added immodestly.
“I’ll bet you are. Why don’t you show us a few of your dance moves. I’d find it relaxing to watch a pretty girl dancing right now. How about you, Matt?”
“It would be just what the doctor ordered,” Mr. Compton replied.
I knew this invitation was not exactly proper, but the brandy had affected me just enough to make the idea exciting, nonetheless. The office has “soft jazz” piped into the conference room, and though that’s certainly not dancing music, at the moment I thought it would do just fine, and I stood up and began to sway slowly, trying to get into the beat of the music. I desperately wanted to please my bosses and see them relax. They deserved it! I was soaring.
I could see myself in the large mirror behind the conference table, and from my vantage point, I looked extremely seductive. The way my body seemed to move almost without any conscious decision on my part seemed intensely erotic.
I felt this great surge of erotic energy and an intense emotional attachment to our “team.” Dancing to please these men seemed the most natural thing in the world. I could hear both Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton praising my body as I swayed enticingly before them. I was in another world.
In the mirror, I saw Mr. Damon coming up behind me and watched him take the bottom of my sweater and slowly begin to pull it up. I raised my arms to accommodate him, and there I was, dancing in my sheer lace bra with my sweater in Mr. Damon’s hands. It was like being at home, doing an innocent little striptease for my husband. It seemed the perfect and natural thing to do. Looking at myself in the mirror, I realized how much better I looked out of my sweater, how much more erotic and tantalizing my dancing seemed. I thought I would look even better out of my skirt.
Mr. Damon approached me, telling me how incredibly beautiful I looked and how magnificent my body was and how pleased they both were that I would dance for them. The erotic nature of our situation made everything around me glow with an inner beauty.
In a sort of delightful haze, I saw Mr. Damon pull the down the straps on my bra, and again, I thought nothing of it. Again, it seemed perfect. The swell of my breasts moved much more alluringly and my body seemed to respond to this enticement. And then he reached behind my back and unsnapped my bra, dropping it to the floor at my feet.
Now, I was suddenly nervous. I covered my breasts with my hands, but Mr. Damon pulled them down again.
“Keep dancing, Chloe,” Mr. Compton intoned from afar. “You look stunningly beautiful.”
In the mirror, the half naked girl agreed and continued to dance. My sense of innocent euphoria returned.
“Take your skirt off, Chloe,” Mr. Compton said in a husky voice.
It never occurred o me not to. I slid the zipper down and seductively danced out of my tight little skirt. The body of the woman in the mirror continued to sway seductively.
Suddenly, Mr. Damon just picked me up, carried me to the conference table, and in one quick tug, broke my thong from my body.
As if in slow motion, I saw him lower his pants, pull my legs up to his shoulders and prepare to enter me.
“Mr. Damon,” I pleaded lamely, “I’m not that kind of girl. I’ve never been with anyone but my husband.” Even in this erotic haze of desire, I knew that things had now gone too far, and that I probably would not escape this. I hoped I wanted to. And knew I did not!
With little if any resistance from me, Mr. Compton calmly pulled my hands away from my vagina, and I deftly began slowly to part my labia.
Neither Mr. Damon nor Mr. Compton said a single word. Mr. Compton held my hands above my head, and Mr. Damon placed his cock at the entrance to my vagina and entered me. Mr. Compton kneaded my breasts as Mr. Damon continued to push himself deeper into my vagina. And deeper and deeper and deeper. I thought he would never insert himself fully. And then he pulled out, and the next long, deep stroke began.
“This is exceptionally good pussy, Matt. Tight and smooth,” Mr. Damon said to Mr. Compton, breaking the strange silence that accompanied his use of my body.
“Don’t make a mess in it,” Mr. Compton observed. “I’ll want some of it, too. Finish up in her mouth. Let me turn her so her head drops over the edge of the table and I can get her mouth ready for us,” he continued.
Mr. Damon never withdrew or really even changed his rhythmic assault of my body as Mr. Compton rotated me sidewise on the table. I felt my head drop off the edge of the table and was instantly aware that Mr. Compton was preparing to enter my mouth. I had never done that before. But then I had never been fucked by my boss before, either!
“Open your mouth, Chloe.”
Mr. Compton’s abrupt command startled me, but I did open my mouth as commanded. Mr. Compton took immediate advantage, pushing his cock fully into my mouth.
And suddenly, my head was ringing and there were stars before my eyes. Mr. Compton had slapped me twice across the face. “Jesus Christ, Chloe, haven’t you ever sucked cock before?” Mr. Compton snapped.
“No,” I said tearfully. “Never.”
“Well, for God’s sake woman, keep your teeth off of a man’s cock! Suck it like a lollipop. Now open up again and for Christ’s sake be careful.”
I dutifully opened and accepted his erection again, this time being careful to do as he instructed.
He seemed satisfied this time, and began to rhythmically push himself deeper into my mouth. I gagged as he hit the back of my throat, and Mr. Compton and Mr. Damon both laughed.
“A newbie,” Mr. Compton noted in amusement.
Ironically, the slap had actually calmed me down and concentrated my focus. I was now intensely aware of the tempo of Mr. Damon’s cock as he stroked himself deeper and deeper inside me and the tactile sense of Mr. Compton’s slippery sex pulsing in and out of my wet mouth. And more and more I was conscious of a growing warmth spreading from my vagina up through my belly and figuratively engulfing me in ecstasy.
I was on the verge of climax, but I knew this would be like nothing else I had ever experienced. I had climaxed with Joey, or thought I had, but this would be different. Very different! Mr. Compton had pulled out of my mouth, and all of my attention was now focused on Mr. Damon’s sleek cock pulsing rhythmically in and out of me. I felt myself sliding into a deep abyss of sexual pleasure, when with a deep groan, he suddenly pulled out of me.
I was in a panic. I was on the verge of the most electrifying sensation of my life and the cock that was producing it was abandoning me. I was about to beg, to plead, to pray for him to inset himself again, when simultaneously I felt Mr. Compton’s sex slip inside me and Mr. Damon’s cock pushing deep into my mouth. Almost at once, a warm gush of semen hit the back of my throat and Mr. Damon’s cock began to convulse violently in my mouth.
I had no idea what to do with the seeming gallons of Mr. Damon’s cum filling my mouth, until Mr. Damon told me exactly what to do.
“Swallow, bitch!” he said, stroking the last of his cum onto my lips.
I nearly gagged, but managed to swallow it all in two gulps, and then turned my attention to the astonishing sensation reemerging from my clitoris.
Mr. Compton’s strokes were quicker and harder than Mr. Damon’s, and if they were designed to drive me into utter sexual abandon, they worked to perfection. The sensation that Mr. Damon had launched was now soaring into unexplored realms of sexual enchantment. Every nerve was attuned to his stroke, the very fiber of my being was concentrated solely on Mr. Compton’s beautiful cock penetrating my open body. I could sense something happening that had never happened before.
A moment later it exploded! I began to moan and whimper like some whore in heat and that growing sensation inside me now completely overwhelmed me. I had no choice but to given in to it wholly and entirely.
“Oh God, Mr. Compton!” I shrieked. “Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” And then I fell over the edge into utter and total abandon. Through lust glazed eyes I saw Mr. Damon’s face contort and his cock begin to shudder, and I through a veil of lust and desire heard myself sobbing in reckless and wanton wildness, “Fuck me, Mr. Compton! Oh God, please, Mr. Compton fuck me hard!”
His cock exploded inside me, and my writhing cunt rose up to meet every gush of his incomparable semen as it burst inside me. His piercing stroke now was so powerful and so penetrating that I thought he might rupture my insides. And if that had been his intent, I would have urged him on!
And then that last, beautiful, vicious thrust up hard against my cervix sent me into the most exhilarating climax I could ever imagine. My mind went blank, my body shuddered in paroxysms of pleasure, and I felt myself enfolded in a blanket of carnal obsession. I had never experienced anything remotely like this…and I knew I would need to again.
At home that night in bed, I thought deeply about what had happened to me. These men were different from Joey. They were the kind of men who simply took what they wanted. And the thought that stuck with me the most was that what they took was only what they deserved to take. They were a different breed of man from Joey. They were more successful and more dominant and commanded a kind of respect from the world that Joey would never know.
It came to me in an abrupt and brilliant blaze of illumination that in taking me the way they had, they had succeeded in taking me from Joey entirely. In a flash of insight I realized that, though I was married to Joey, I now belonged exclusively to them…and to men like them. And though I honestly do love Joey, I knew that he could never possess me as Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton had. They had simply taken me, and I had become their property. I was finally what I was meant to be.
Via: https://www.lushstories.com/stories/wife-lovers/chloes-story-part-2
