
WARNING!

The following story is an uncensored sexual fantasy involving
practices that are illegal, immoral, socially unacceptable, and
messy.  Only mature adults with a firm grasp on reality should
venture further.  This story promotes nothing, and nothing in
this story should be taken seriously.  Readers are cautioned not
to attempt any of these acts without professional guidance and a
net.  If you are underage, stand, move away from the console,
and unplug the computer.  Reading stories like this can make you
go blind.  If you are a servant of the Lord, looking for sinners
to convert, study this story and memorize it.  This will help
you recognize sinners when you see them.  Good luck, and avoid
mirrors!


Copyright  1997,  Phil Phantom,     ALL Rights Reserved
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the
written permission of the author.  This story may be freely
distributed with this notice attached.  
                 

                           Company Man
                         By Phil Phantom

                             Part 1


I stood in thick pile carpet before the largest oak desk I'd
ever seen.  Behind the desk sat a man bigger than life: Stewart
Jennings Killinger -- Mr. Killinger, CEO of the biggest mining
equipment company in the world, Killinger Equipment.

I was relatively new to the company, still in my twenties, but
on a fast track to top-level management.  I rose through the
ranks in record time and was poised for the key promotion that
would set me and my young family for life.  Mr. Killinger
ignored me for several minutes while carrying on a phone
conversation with his chair swiveled to present the leather back
fringed with brass studs.  When he suddenly spun around and
slammed down the phone, I jumped.

Mr.  Killinger eyed me like a plantation overseer might look at
a new slave.  I felt like a slave, anyway.  Once you move into a
salaried position with the company, they work you seven days a
week, sometimes eighty, ninety hours.  Mr. Killinger pays his
slaves well.  Behind his back, we respectfully call him massah
Stewart.  I was nervous being scrutinized by the massah.  He
said, "Relax... Groves, isn't it?"

"Bill Groves, sir, yes sir," I said.

"I've heard good things about you, Groves, damn good things.
I've been keeping my eye on you, son.  We have a division that
might get your name on it."  My eyes opened wide.  "Hold on,
now.  Don't go getting a hardon.  I said might.  Nobody gets one
of my divisions until I know he is a 100% company man."

Mr.  Killinger rose and walked around the desk, saying, "Some
men give lip service to the term, company man, Groves.  I'm not
one of them.  When I say company man, I mean COMPANY man.  The
company comes first."  The burly, distinguished older man began
pacing back and forth on my side of the desk.  "When I say
first, there is no second.  The company is the be all and end
all of his existence.  His role in the company defines who he is
and what kind of man he is."  He stopped and cast me a sidelong
stare.  "Are you a company man, Bill Groves?"

"Oh, yes sir.  I eat, sleep, drink... I live Killinger
Equipment.  Killinger is my life, sir."

"We'll see, Groves.  We'll see.  If you're telling me the truth,
you'll get a division.  Maybe not right away, maybe not this
year, but you will one day.  If I determine that you lied, I'll
fire you on the spot.  Now, I'm going to ask you again.  Are you
a company man?"

I broke out in a sweat.  My tie suddenly felt like a hangman's
noose.  When my secretary told me that Mr. Killinger wanted to
see me, the idea that I might get fired on the spot never
entered my mind.  I said, "Sir, I AM a company man."

"You're married."

"Yes sir.  Eight years now.  To a wonderful woman."

"Cynthia, right?"

"Why, yes sir."

"And she bore you three kids -- twin boys and a baby girl."

"Yes, that's right.  The girl isn't exactly a baby.  She's four.
The boys are seven."

"Are they your's?  All of them?"

"Of course."

"Cynthia is a very attractive and sexy woman."

"I think so.  I'm sure most men would think so."

"I hear she looks like that brunette on the TV show, Charlie's
Angels.  What's 'er name?"

"Jackie Smith.  Yes, she hears that quite a bit.  I think she's
a dead ringer myself.  If she were three inches taller and her
waistline were three inches bigger, she could be her double."

"She must have a figure like an hour glass."

"She does, and she likes wearing dresses that accentuate that
hour glass look.  You know, skin tight around the middle."

"She sounds like one hot number, but you don't think Cynthia
finds any man but you attractive or sexy enough to take between
her legs.  Is that what you're telling me?"

This took the wind out of my sails.  I said, "I... uh, sir, it's
not that.  Cynthia is a faithful and true blue woman.  Maybe you
should meet her."

"Carl met her, and we disagree with you."

"Sir, I don't understand.  When did Mr. Roberts meet Cynthia,
and why would you think she isn't faithful?"

"Groves, I'll ask the questions.  You answer them unless you
want to walk out of here right now and forget we had this whole
conversation."

I was in no way inclined to leave at that point.  I said, "No,
I'll answer."

"I'm going to get personal, very personal.  Are you sure you
want to stay?"

"I have nothing to hide, and neither does Cynthia."

"When was the last time you fucked her?"

"What?"

"Was there a word you didn't understand?"

"No... I, uh..."

"Then answer the question."

"I think a week ago."

"How many times in the last month?"

"Four, maybe three.  I'm not sure."

"What's a monthly average in the past year?"

"I don't know, maybe three."

"Maybe one?"

"Some months, maybe.  The average has to be at least two.  Mr.
Killinger, why..."

"I ask the questions.  Now, you're married to this gorgeous
woman with a body that should be painted on a B-29 bomber, and
you think she's satisfied with two pokes a month.  You don't
think she needs more than that, or that her needs aren't being
met by someone else.  That's what you're telling me, right?"

"Well, yes."

"Again, I think you're wrong.  I think what you're getting are
mercy fucks.  I think she tosses you scraps from the table, and
someone else is sitting in your seat, eating his fill.  You'd
fuck her every night of the week if she'd let you, wouldn't you?"

"I suppose I would, but Cynthia's never been that interested in
sex.  She's just not that way, Mr. Killinger.  Look, if you know
something I don't..."

"I know a lot of things you don't, young man.  Tell me
something.  How's her pussy?  Is she still tight?"

"She's had three kids."

"Is she as tight as she was last year?"

"I... probably not, but..."

"Show me your dick, Groves."

I turned bright red and stammered, "Sir, I..."

"Pull your cock out, Groves.  I'm not going to suck it.  I just
want to look at it."

I unzipped my fly and fished out a pathetic member trying to
hide in my pubic hair.  Stewart looked at diminutive organ and
shook his head.  "Put that thing away, Groves."  I hurriedly did
so.  "Now, are you going to try and tell me that your cock
stretched her pussy."

"I don't know."

"A moment ago you were absolutely sure that your cock was the
only cock Cynthia is spreading her legs for.  Now, you're not
sure.  I've seen a picture of your wife, Groves, and I know that
woman is fucking her ass off, and if she isn't, she should be.
If she's getting cock like yours, twice a month, and that's all
she's getting, I'll eat this fucking telephone.  If I have to
eat this telephone, I'm going to be very upset with you because
that's just a waste of good pussy.  If you can't provide your
wife with a good cock, you should see she gets one."

"I don't know what to say, Mr. Killinger."

"I've been asking around, Groves, nobody at Killinger is getting
any pussy off of Cynthia.  Wipe that smug grin off your face,
Groves.  That just means some outsider is fucking one of our
women.  I can overlook the lower ranks letting their wives stray
from Killinger cock stock, but for a man moving up like you
appear to be doing, that won't do.  No sir, that won't do at
all."

My head was spinning.  Killinger cock stock?  Our women?  I'd
heard rumors about Mr. Killinger.  I heard he could be bizarre,
pushy, demanding, and ruthless, but this was too much.  He
thought of my Cynthia as one of "our women."  Still, the man
held my future in his hands.  I was speechless, but grew numb
when Mr. Killinger took out his cock and told me to feel it.  I
stared at the most impressive cock I'd ever seen resting like a
slab of meat in Mr. Killinger's hand.  Through a fog, I heard
him repeat, "Take it.  Feel this cock Groves.  This is a real
cock, a Killinger cock."

I reached out and picked up the penis like a lump of toxic
waste, pinching the middle between my thumb and forefinger.  Mr.
Killinger took my hand and placed my fingers around the shaft.
With his hand on mine, he began stroking.  I could feel the
blood rushing in to fill the organ, and could feel it swell and
grow.  Within seconds, I held Mr. Killinger by his erect cock, a
cock at least a foot long and as thick as my daughter's forearm.
I could feel Mr. Killinger's heart beating through his cock,
and though I felt ridiculous holding a man's penis, slowly
stroking my employer's huge cock from the root to the tip, even
after Mr. Killinger let go, I was not inclined to let loose
unless told to do so.  Despite feeling ridiculous, I wanted to
continue holding, stroking, and fondling Mr. Killinger's cock.
My own cock stirred with the excitement I felt rushing through
me.

Without conscious awareness, I was jacking Mr. Killinger off,
right there in his office.  We stood facing each other with Mr.
Killinger's throbbing organ bridging the one-foot separation.
The head of his dick rubbed against my belt buckle and made the
belt, the buckle, and part of my pants shine with his precum.
He said, "This is the kind of cock your wife's pussy craves,
Groves.  She probably found herself two or three cocks that will
do, but she won't find cocks like these on the street."

I could not argue.  Still, as beautiful and sexy as Cynthia is,
and as much as she likes dressing in sexy and revealing clothes,
she just does not have the sexual drive or desire that usually
goes with a body like hers.  She could take sex or leave it.
Mr. Killinger was right, though, she gives me mercy fucks, but
once a month was more the average.  Between fucks she'd pacify
me with a hand job, and even for those she wears a latex rubber
glove so the "messy stuff" won't get on her skin.  I fuck my
wife wearing a rubber.  I couldn't help but wonder how Cynthia
would respond to a cock like the one I was jacking off without a
glove.

Mr.  Killinger pushed down on my shoulders, saying, "Go get a
better look at it, Groves.  Get a good look at a real cock."  My
knees offered no resistance.  I sank lower and lower watching
that monster cock rise higher toward my face.  When my knees hit
the carpet, the head of Mr. Killinger's dick was at my lips.  He
said, "I'll bet you can't even get your mouth over the head,
Groves.  See if you can?"

My mouth opened of it's own accord as Mr. Killinger took control
of his own cock.  He pressed forward and the soft rubbery head
forced its way inside my mouth, filling my mouth.  Mr. Killinger
began pumping his cock the way he preferred, saying, "You've got
a big mouth, Groves.  Imagine how my cock would feel to
Cynthia's pussy.  She can take it all, clear to the balls.  I
guarantee it.  If she does, she'll never stray from Killinger
cock again.  There isn't a man in my executive suites that
doesn't have a wife devoted solely to Killinger cock.  Cynthia
would drool over Raul, cream over Eugene, and she'll cum in her
knickers when she sees Rambo Sambo.  I hired them because they
had big cocks -bigger than mine if you can believe that.  I've
got one drawing six figures that isn't worth tits on a Marine,
but Raul can turn any lady into a whore after one fuck."

I found myself sucking on his cock and trying to get more in my
mouth.  I never made that conscious decision; I just did.  Mr.
Killinger paused in his lecture to say, "I just want you to
know, I won't let just any man suck my dick.  I don't let
outsiders, and I don't go for queers, but if I know the man is
straight, and he's willing to let me cum in his mouth, and he'll
swallow my load like a true cock-sucker, I won't think less of
him.  We'll just keep this between us, Groves."

I said, "Uhmm, ughn, omh, yemmm summm."  You get the picture.

He said, "If you're going to do this, do it right.  Get my balls
out and massage them in one hand, and pump my cock with the
other like I'm doing.  That's it, Groves.  That's how you suck a
big dick, but get more suction going.  You need to keep a
partial vacuum in there.  If you don't, when I blow my nuts, the
shit's going to go everywhere.  I don't want to soil my slacks,
so be prepared to get all of my wad, Groves."

Mr.  Killinger's balls were huge.  They filled my hand, and I
must say, pumping that cock while sucking sure felt good.
Having never had a dick in my mouth before, I wasn't sure I'd
like it.  Part of my passion was derived from the shear size and
power his cock represented.  A powerful cock on a powerful man
is a heady combination.  I couldn't help but wonder how Cynthia
would respond to Mr. Killinger's cock, or to one even larger,
one that can turn any lady into a whore after one fuck.  The
idea wouldn't go away, partly because Mr. Killinger wouldn't let
the idea go away.

He went on, "Where was I?  Oh, you see, Groves, I can't have
women who sleep with my key people sharing intimate knowledge of
our corporate plans and projects, sleeping with outsiders and
letting things out.  For that reason, no one advances to this
level unless he is willing to carry his naked wife into this
office and set her on my desk for a Killinger cock fucking.
They all did it, and if you are a company man, you'll do it too.
They strip their wives in the lobby before every swinging dick,
every secretary, and the fucking janitors, then haul their naked
bitches in here for a screwing.  When I'm done, they carry them
out with their cunts gaping wide and leaking cum -- Killinger
cum."

"I'll tell you something else, Groves.  It don't stop there.
Those wives either meet Raul, Eugene, or Rambo Sambo before or
after seeing me.  They all get screwed by them.  When they get
an itch in their twats, all they have to do is pick up the
phone, or put on a knock-me-down-and-fuck-me outfit and trot
their horny little twats down to the executive office building.
Their husbands do a great deal of traveling and are away more
than home.  If I didn't keep this place well-stocked with cock,
well, you see the trouble we'd have.  Some of those wives spend
more time in the executive office building than their husbands
do.  If you get an office here, you'll be seeing a lot of
Cynthia.  I guarantee it.  Slow down, cowboy.  Don't be in such
a hurry.  You're sucking me like a starving queer.

"I see that notion turns you on.  You may not like what you see
if you've never seen her strut her stuff in public.  You might
see her in a mini skirt with no panties and cum running down her
legs to her high heels, parading that shit around, proud as a
god damn peacock.  They do that, Groves.  I don't know what it
is, but when a woman gets a real fucking, she feels like showing
her beaver.  There's some that will walk these halls buck assed
naked with a fresh-fucked pussy.  We allow that here.  I see
that turns you on, too."

The image did, but I knew Cynthia never would strut naked with a
fresh-fucked pussy.  Still, the fantasy was erotic and added to
my arousal.  I couldn't help sucking harder.

He went on, "There's one other thing you need to know, Groves.
Killinger women do not use birth control.  If they get knocked
up by a Killinger man, they'll be even more dedicated to the
company.  Women are like that; they'll remain with an abusive
man, just because he fathered her kids.  With a Killinger stud,
they'll never stray once they deliver a Killinger baby.  Between
me, Raul, Eugene, and Rambo, we've fathered half of all kids
born to executive couples -- thirty-two by last count.  The
ratio would be ninety/ten if every couple came here without kids
to start with.  If you get onboard, you will have a much bigger
family.  My top people have big families.  They're all company
men.  Are you a company man, Groves?"

"Yemmmmm, Simmmm."

If they could do it, so could I, though I didn't have the
foggiest idea how I'd manage.  Cynthia can be as stubborn as a
mule when she's pulled or pushed.  She'd have to want to be
stripped and carried to a fucking before that would ever go
down, and selling her on the idea of a bigger family would be a
very big sale, but I wanted desperately to be a company man, and
I sucked the head of the company's head cock to prove it.

I suddenly got a mouthful of sperm.  That was a weird feeling
sucking hot sperm from a shooting cock, then swallowing.  I
never knew a man could deposit so much sperm in one ejaculation.
I cum by the tablespoon; he came by the cup.  I thought his
sperm would never stop squirting in my mouth.  I sucked and
swallowed, sucked and drank.  After the squirts ended, I nursed
his deflating member while he milked the shaft.  Finally, he
pulled out and zipped up.  I stood, wiped my mouth, and waited
as he retrieved something from his desk.

They were photographs that he slid across the desk toward me.  I
spread them out.  All were handsome naked men with athletic
bodies sporting huge erections, bigger than Mr. Killinger's.  In
addition, all were black men.  One looked half black and half
Latino or Indian, but they weren't white, and the children they
sired certainly wouldn't look white.

Mr.  Killinger said, "Those are my Killinger studs, Groves."  He
tapped the picture of the half-breed and said, "That's Raul.
Don't ask me what border he jumped.  He doesn't even know, but
the ladies love him.  If you need help with Cynthia, get with
Raul.  If he isn't fucking her within two hours of meeting her,
I'll hand you a thousand dollars cash.  If he fucks her, and she
refuses to see him again, I'll give you two thousand.  If she
fucks all three and won't let you publicly strip her and carry
her up here for a screwing, I'll hand you a check for ten grand
and still give you the promotion."

"Mr.  Killinger, you don't know Cynthia.  I don't care how good
this guy is, she just is not into sex, and she is not impressed
by penis size.  She is constantly telling me that the size means
nothing to her, and that she prefers one that is comfortable."

"And you bought that bullshit?  Groves, you have a tiny dick.
Women who marry a man with a tiny dick all say that.  It ain't
the pen, it's the penmanship.  It ain't the sword, it's the
swordsmanship.  Bullshit!  I'm not going to waste time trying to
convince you.  You'll convince soon enough.  What I'm going to
do is put some incentive behind you.  You want this promotion,
right?"

"Yes sir."

"Here's the deal.  You have thirty days to set Cynthia on my
desk, naked, ready to fuck, and willing to bear more kids -- not
your kids, Killinger kids, and most likely from one of my studs.
They breed most of the kids, Rambo Sambo especially.  He has
this thing wired.  When those bitches are ovulating, Rambo Sambo
knows it, and does the job.  As you can see, he's blacker than
ink, and so are his offspring."

"Mr.  Killinger, Cynthia's family comes from the deep south.
Cynthia doesn't have a prejudiced bone in her body, but if she
gave birth to a black baby, she'd be ostracized.  Her family
means a great deal to her, and they all live around here.  That
fact alone will nix this deal."

"Groves, again, you don't know Cynthia as well as you think.
She probably masturbates to the idea of getting raped by a big
black, getting pregnant by him, then delivering a black baby.
They cum thinking about the scandal, those southern belles
especially.  Rambo is so successful because he gets inside
information on ovulation times.  Where do you suppose he's
getting that inside information, from the husbands?  Cynthia
would love to hand you a jet black baby, and she's willing to
deal with her outraged family in order to have that pleasure.
You don't know shit about women, Groves.  Then again, you can't
learn if you're born with a tiny white dick."

"I can appreciate that there's a lot I don't know about women,
but I know Cynthia like my own sister, better.  We've dated
steadily since junior high, and we were virgins when we married.
We have both remained faithful, so she knows what I know, and I
know what she knows.  I know exactly how she'll react to Raul's
advances, and to the idea of bearing another man's child of any
color.  I might win the thousand dollar bet, but will that mean
this is as far as I go up the ladder?"

"Groves, I said I was going to give you incentive.  If you fail
to move up by either method, either by getting her to screw all
three and refusing the rest, or by carrying her in here fully
ready to cooperate.  If you fail, I'm jerking the ladder out
from under you.  I'll let you go.  I'd hate to lose a good man,
and a good heterosexual cocksucker, but I think you need the
incentive in order to succeed.  I don't think you like the idea
of your wife screwing these men or bearing their black bastards.
A company man would put those concerns behind him for the
welfare of the company.  I told you before we began that you'd
either leave a company man or unemployed.  You wanted to
proceed.  Well, there's your incentive.  Handle this any way you
want, but you have thirty days to set Cynthia's naked ass on my
desk, or clear yours.  We have nothing further to discuss.  My
secretary can put you in touch with Raul.  Good luck."

                              * * *

                             Part 2


I took Raul's phone number from the grinning secretary, and
passed a shamelessly dressed woman on the way out.  A pregnant
woman should not wear a see-through dress without under
garments, I don't care how good she looks.  Cynthia would have
given her a piece of her mind.

For the remainder of the day, I thought about my task.  My task
was nothing short of turning my wife into a whore for the
company, but I'd have to make it seem like it was her own idea.
I had one thing going for me, Cynthia loved the company and my
future in it.  She loved the house, the neighborhood, the
schools, and the fact that her family lived nearby was a major
plus for her.  If I lost my job, we'd have to start over, sell
the house, and move.  I had marketable job skills in one limited
field and my only hope of securing work, meaningful work, would
require a move to Yuma, Arizona or moving overseas.

I thought about dumping everything in Cynthia's lap and letting
her come up with an idea, letting her make the tough decisions.
She wanted me to move up as badly, if not more, than I did.  I
could picture her saying, "Well, if we have no other options, if
there is no other way, we must do what we must do."  I could
also picture her ranting and raving, threatening law suits and
police action, going to the media, and wanting to confront Mr.
Killinger in his office.  I decided the direct approach was too
risky.  Near day's end, I called Raul.

Raul talked more sophisticated than he looked.  He was an
educated man, and by his claim, a great dancer.  All I had to do
was arrange a date to go dancing.  He'd pick us up and take us
to his club.  I'm sure he meant his club as in his favorite.  He
also told me to make certain she wore a dress, the shorter the
better, and no pantie hose.  That was it, just set the date for
Friday, and he'd handle the rest.  He did say it wouldn't hurt
if she were under the impression that he would be my future
boss, and that his report would influence company decisions
regarding my career advancement.

I decided to play that up as much as I could, but he acted as
though it weren't necessary or all that important.  I'll say one
thing for him, he was very sure of himself and cocky.  Talking
to a man who was absolutely certain he could seduce my wife was
strange.  Working with him toward that goal was stranger still.

By the time I arrived home, I was horny as hell.  Cynthia never
looked sexier, though she had no makeup on, and wore old jeans
and a sweat shirt while she put the finishing touches on dinner.
I couldn't resist.  I came up behind her and pressed close,
nuzzled her neck with little kisses.  I then reached around to
cup her large breasts in my hands.

Cynthia shook free, then turned to scold me with a
sauce-dripping ladle, "Bill, for crying out loud.  There are
kids running around that could march in here and see you doing
that.  You know I hate that behavior in private, much less out
where the kids might see."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you look too damn sexy to resist."

She strode past me with a pot of beans and said, "I do not look
sexy.  What have you been doing?  Oh, honestly, Bill, you have
an erection.  Go take a cold shower or something.  Go, before
the kids see it."

This was par for the course.  Public erections were a big sin in
our house.  The boys get them all the time, but we ignore their
boners.  I took a shower.

After dinner, after the kids left, I said, "Honey, I'm being
considered for advancement and a move to the executive office
building."

"Bill, no?  Really?  Oh, Bill!  This is fantastic.  I'm so proud
of you."

"Not so fast.  They're just thinking about it.  There's this one
guy, Raul Serantini, that seems to hold the key.  I managed to
get in to see him today, you know, to buddy-up."

"Brown nose, you mean.  You wooed him didn't you?  He loved you,
I know he did."

"Not exactly.  He seemed more interested in you than me."

"Me?  Why me?"

"He saw you somewhere."

"I don't recall meeting any Raul.  I'd remember a name like
Raul."

"He didn't meet you, he saw you?  Evidently, he liked what he
saw."

"He did, huh?  What did he say?"

"Oh, he just went on and on about how you look exactly like
Jackie Smith.  He wanted to know all about you.  He obviously
has a thing for Jackie Smith."

"Well, that can't hurt us.  So, what did he want to know about
me?"

"Personal stuff, Cynthia, very personal if you ask me."

Cynthia smiled and sat up, leaning forward on her elbows,
saying, "Yeah, like how personal?"

Frankly, I was surprised by this reaction.  She seemed to want
something juicy.  I was winging it anyway, so I said, "He wanted
to know your likes and dislikes, hobbies, interests, that sort
of thing, but what floored me was when he started prying into
our sex life."

"Oh, he did, did he?  What exactly did he want to know?"

"You know, how often you want it.  Your favorite position.  What
you like best -- vaginal, anal, or oral."

"Good, god, Bill.  You didn't tell him the truth, did you?"

"Well, yes.  I had to say something."

"Oh, Bill.  Can't you see?  He wanted stuff for fantasy.  He
wants to fantasize me as he thinks Jackie Smith is.  You blew
it."

"What should I have said?"

"You should have fed his fantasy.  You know what men think about
her.  She does everything and always wants to do it.  All you
did was put distance between me and her when you should have
strengthened that connection."

"By lying about you?"

"He'd never know the truth.  It's none of his damn business
anyway."

"Well, to be honest with you, I did lie a little."

"Oh, what did you tell him?"

"Well, I told him you love oral sex."

"That's good, Bill.  What else?"

"I said you adore the feel of semen on your body."

"You men.  I don't think any woman adores something slimy and
sticky on their body.  That's good, though.  I'll bet he liked
that.  What else?"

"He asked if you like going out in short dresses without
pantyhose.  I picked up that he liked that idea, so I said you
never wear pantyhose, and sometimes, you don't wear panties.  I
told him you like the feeling of being totally naked under a
short dress."

"I do have that fantasy.  How did he react when you told him
that?"

"Honey, he went nuts.  He got the biggest erection I ever saw.
Raul has a reputation as a lady's man, and he has a huge
endowment.  I never saw a crotch bulge like he had when he tried
to picture you naked under the dress he saw you in.  He actually
told me what he was thinking."

"What was he thinking?"

"He went into this fantasy about walking up behind you, lifting
your skirt, and doing it to you in a public place."

"Oh, Jeez!  That's my other fantasy -- being taken in public."

"How come I never knew this, or that you fantasize going out
without panties?"

"I don't share my fantasies, and I do go out without panties
sometimes.  That isn't a fantasy.  Shocking, huh?"

"I think it's great."

"You do, huh?  I thought you'd be upset.  I just do it as a
cheap thrill.  I'm not out trying to lure a man to my bed or
anything."

I smiled to put her at ease and said, "Come on, Cynthia, with
the skirt lengths you wear, someone had to see."

Cynthia blushed, smiled, then said, "Oh course people saw.  I
mean what would be the point if no one could possibly see.
That's where the thrill comes in, knowing a man can see I'm not
wearing any panties."

"I don't believe a man can look at your vagina and not do
everything humanly possible to get you in bed."

Cynthia's demeanor suddenly became somber and reticent as she
said, "Sure, they try."

When Cynthia is in the mood for sex, we play this game.  I
accuse her of sexual misconduct or pry into her activities.  If
she waves it off, or gets pissed off, I know she's not going to
fuck me.  If she looks guilty and somber, I know she's willing.
All I have to do is keep her going and she'll confess to
anything she can dream up.  We usually end up in a fight that
ends in me forcing myself on her and taking sex, or her making
up for telling me a lie that upset me and giving me an I'm-sorry
fuck.  Either way I get fucked.  I pressed on.

"Cynthia, there's more to this, isn't there?  Don't worry.  I
won't be angry.  I know it was innocent fun."  I put a big smile
on my face to ease her fears and said, "Come on, out with it.
You've been busted, girl."

"God, Bill, you're sure taking this well.  How come I never saw
this side of you?  Do you know how much I've dreaded this day?"

"You were a bad girl, weren't you?"

"Yes, Bill.  I've been a very bad girl, more times than I want
to admit.  It all started when we put Angie in pre school.  I
have the house to myself.  You're gone all day and never come
home unannounced.  The kids are gone and I don't need to worry
about them popping in.  I found myself alone with my vagina.  My
vagina made me do bad things, Bill, very bad things.  In our
bed, even."

"I got up and went to her.  Cynthia wasn't sure what I was up
to, so she stiffened and brought her hands up in ready defense.
I took her in my embrace and hugged her warmly.  She slowly
relaxed as I said, "Honey, I understand.  I'm not jealous or
upset.  Furthermore, I have no intention of trying to stop you
from doing it again, or making you feel guilty about doing it."

Cynthia had never encountered that type of response from me, and
was quite taken aback.  She said, "Bill, are we talking about
the same thing?  Do you understand what I mean by doing it?
Bill, I let men make love to me in our bed, our marital bed."

"I know sweetheart.  It's all right."

"Bill, I'm not talking about one or two or even ten.  I'm
talking about twenty or thirty in the past six months, and many
of those guys have been back for repeats."

"I don't care, honey.  I mean that."

"One guy meets me here every Thursday afternoon.  Today is
Thursday.  He refuses to use a condom.  Another man's semen is
in my vagina and you're still hugging me.  There's something
wrong with this picture; can you figure out what it is?"

I held her at arm's length to make eye contact, then smiled and
said, "The picture has given me an erection."

She glanced down, then smiled and said, "How do you feel about
sloppy seconds from your wife?"

"Do I have to use a condom?"

With a devilish gleam, she said, "Yes, you know I'm not on the
pill.  You might get me pregnant, and I don't want to risk that
happening."

I smiled equally devilishly and replied, "If the lady doesn't
want my baby, then I guess I'll wear a condom."

Cynthia took me by the hand and dragged me to the bedroom.  My
normally very reserved and quiet wife was suddenly very
aggressive and talkative.  She mounted me and let out a barrage
of vile phrases and words that I never heard cross her lips,
phrases such as: "Fuck my adulterous pussy," and "Screw my
cheating cunt."  And my favorite, "Stir up my lover's sperm with
your little rubber-wrapped dick."

I saw Cynthia have a climax for the first time, then saw her
apologize with her eyes after recovering from it.  She pushed
herself up on straight arms with her hands resting on my chest,
my cock still hard inside her wet pussy because I hadn't cum.
She got serious and said, "I think I'm crazy, Bill.  There's
something wrong with me."

I said, "Why, just because you cheated?"

"No, because I like to torment the only man I ever loved or ever
will love.  I do that to you on purpose, Bill, and I can't stop
and don't know why.  I want to get off of your penis right now
after having had my climax and leave you suffering.  That's
sick, Bill, but I want to make you suffer."

"Then get off."

Cynthia looked into my eyes, trying to understand me, but eased
off slowly.  She sat back on her heels with my rubber encased
erection between us.  She looked over my rigid member with
mischievous eyes and said, "Don't you hate me, Bill?  Can't you
see I'm enjoying this?"

She was indeed.  Her fingers were stirring her supposedly spermy
twat while the fingers of her free hand rubbed her clit.  I'd
never seen Cynthia touch herself, much less masturbate.  I
stared at her working fingers, admiring her sexy pussy.  I never
had a good look at Cynthia's pussy.  She always hid herself from
me, especially the fleshy parts between her legs.  She was now
displaying them to me.  She was wet, but I saw no evidence of
sperm I'd stirred up.  She said, "Say something, Bill."

"I don't hate you, Cynthia.  I love you.  I always will, no
matter what you do."

This excited her even more and she frantically frigged her cunt,
saying, "You don't know what you're saying.  I let everyone fuck
me without a rubber but you, Bill.  I don't care if I bear you
another bastard child.  That's right.  Angie isn't yours.  She
is the product of my first cheating act.  I fucked your father.
Angie is your father's baby.  She's your sister, not your
daughter.  Oh God!  I'm cumming!  Oh fuck, yes!  Yes!  Watch me
cum, Bill.  I cum for everybody but you, darling."

Cynthia climaxed in a dramatic show of passion.  She fell to the
side then rolled onto her back beside me.  She looked up to me
with sad eyes and said, "I'm sorry, Bill.  I had to tell you,
but not that way.  This has been eating me alive keeping it in.
Before I knew it, I was saying it."

"So, it's true?"

"Yes.  I'm afraid so.  You hate me now, don't you?  I don't
blame you.  I hate myself.  It's not your father's fault.  I
seduced him when I knew I was ovulating."

"No, I don't hate you.  I told you, I will never hate you no
matter what you do.  I don't blame Dad.  The poor guy drools
around you.  He never stood a chance."

"He was easy.  So, what now?  I think I need professional help.
I want to stop doing these things, and I want to stop tormenting
you.  I want us to have a normal sex life, but I can't stop
these crazy drives.  One day, I'll drive you away or into
another woman's arms.  When that happens, I'll curl up and die."

I hugged her close and stroked her cheek, saying, "You're not
going to have to curl up and die, because I'm never going
anywhere, and I don't look at other women.  I only want to be
tormented by you."

Cynthia sat up and turned to look at me.  She said, "Honestly.
You've never cheated?"

"No, never.  I don't even flirt."

"And nothing I do could drive you away."

"No, Cynthia, nothing I can imagine."

                              * * *

                             Part 3


She had that devilish gleam in her eye again.  If I didn't know
better I'd swear she was starting another session.  One right
after the other was unheard of.  She said, "In that case, I
don't want to get cured.  I like my life just fine.  What do you
think of that?"

"I think you're being honest."

"I am.  It really bothered you that I let your father screw me,
didn't it?"

"Yes, very much."

"In that case, I'm going to start screwing him again.  Maybe,
I'll give you another baby brother or sister."

"Cynthia, slow down.  Don't get carried away with this.  Let's
just keep things the way they are.  You have your secret flings,
torment me if that turns you on, but lets not test the bonds of
our marriage this way."

"You're right.  I do tend to get carried away, but my pussy
insists I go on."

"Pussy, huh.  Do we have a new vocabulary now?"

"I like using dirty words.  I only kept them from you so you'd
think I was still a good girl.  Now that you know I'm a bad
girl, I want to talk like a bad girl.  Didn't you like seeing my
pussy and hearing me talk filthy."

"I love it."

"I thought so.  It's a new torment.  It makes you horny, but you
know you won't get any.  You won't either, no matter how much
you beg.  I'm never going to let you fuck me again, never."

"Come on, Cynthia.  You can't mean that."

"I do mean that, Bill.  I want you to crave my pussy so badly
that it hurts.  It will hurt more if you know you'll never get
any while every Tom, Dick, and Harry is.  You'll stand a better
chance with Jackie Smith."

Cynthia turned so that her feet faced me, then spread her legs
wide.  Her gorgeous pussy fanned open before my eyes and her
fingers spread the lips further as she said, "Look at my twat,
Bill.  Stare at my pussy hole.  You've never seen my pretty,
pink pussy hole, but I show it to every man I fuck.  You've
never had your head close enough for a sniff, but every man I
fucked got to lick it and suck it till he was content.  Look at
my asshole, Bill.  I'm choosy about who fucks my pussy, but I'll
let any man fuck my ass, any man but you.  I suck cock and
swallow sperm, too."

I said, "I'm getting you some professional help."

"It won't work.  The first thing they tell you is the person
needing help must want help.  I don't want help.  I just
realized why you haven't cheated, and won't.  It's your little
dick.  You can't very well seduce a woman, then pull out that
pathetic little worm you call a dick.  She'll laugh in your
face.  And now I finally believe that you won't leave no matter
what.  I believe that, Bill.  I was never sure, but now I am.
So, what's to stop me from fulfilling my ultimate fantasy of
totally cutting you off.  Nothing.  Bill, consider yourself
officially and irrevocably cut off.  But I want you to know I
still love you.  Love hurts, Bill.  Mine does, anyway."

"You are serious, aren't you?"

"I'm dead serious.  My horny pussy is more dead serious than I
am."

None of this came as any surprise to me.  Cynthia has been
cutting me off for as long as I've known her.  She has been
tormenting me sexually for as long as I've known her as well.
She's been confessing to acts of infidelity since high school,
just to see how I'd react.  I knew she went out without panties,
and I figured she had a few encounters as a result.  The rest
was fantasy, even the part about my father.  He has been
impotent for the past ten years.  Cynthia got carried away with
her fantasy, because I played along for the first time.

I could have stopped the act anywhere along the way by getting
upset or angry.  My hurt, submissive, puppy dog look drives her
fantasy, but real anger cools her heels.  She values our
marriage as much as I do, and any threat to it sends her into a
panic.  We fight as all couples do, but we never go to bed mad
at each other.  Cynthia can't sleep if I'm still angry.  Half of
the sex I get is to end my anger.

This time was different only because I stayed submissive and she
kept going and going.  This told me more than I ever dreamed
about her desires and fantasies.  This session was the first I'd
heard of her getting off on bearing me a bastard child.  Oddly,
in light of my goal, that was very welcome news.  We established
many firsts: The first look at her spread beaver; Her first
orgasm with me; An open confession that she derives pleasure
from sexually tormenting me; Her first open masturbation; And
her new vocabulary was a very pleasant surprise.

"Well?"  She said.

We had arrived at the part where I would normally get upset and
challenge her story, eventually getting at the truth.  I would
then force my way on her, taking the sex she cut off.  This
allowed her to resist, then surrender without passion, taking my
screwing like a wet dishrag.  She'd be happy for days
afterwards.  I wanted to see what she'd do if I remained
submissive, so I said, "I can see you're serious this time,
Cynthia, and you really did commit adultery."

I looked at her wet twat as though seeing sperm.  This made her
look for herself, probably trying to see what I was seeing that
made me think she had sperm in her twat.  To distract her, I
added, "You obviously don't care if you get pregnant, or what
anybody thinks, so I guess I'll have to adjust to the idea of
raising another bastard, maybe another of my father's.  As for
being cut off, I've been cut off for most of our marriage.  I've
learned to live without sex from you.  I'll survive.  What else
can I say?"

She looked disappointed, and was not prepared for this.  I could
almost read her mind.  She didn't know whether to come clean and
clear her good name and reputation, or to allow me to go on
thinking that she was screwing every guy she met and trying to
get pregnant.  I played my part convincingly, and I know she
bought it.  She didn't understand my sudden change from being an
overly possessive and insecure husband, to a wimp who was forced
to accept his inability to satisfy his own wife, but she was
intrigued by the change.  After a long pause for the internal
debate, she decided to let the situation ride, saying, "Good, as
long as you know how things will be from now on.  Hey, we were
talking about that Raul guy.  Where did we leave off?  I want to
hear more."

"I told you he got a hardon thinking about screwing you in
public."

"I wonder if I flashed my pussy to him.  Did he say he saw my
pussy?"

"No, but he may have heard about it from someone."

"You said he had a big cock.  How big?"

"We didn't pull it out and measure, but by the lump I saw, I'd
say he had a cock longer than twelve inches, maybe fourteen
inches."

"No way.  Fourteen inches of cock?  Bill, that's about this
long.  Cocks don't get that big -- do they?"

"On black men they do.  Raul is part black."

"Fourteen inches?  How thick would you say it was?"

"I'd say as thick as your wrist."

"Good God, that would be like a horse."

"They call him tripod.  Anyway, tripod wants to take us out
dancing tomorrow night.  I told him you love to dance."

"It sounds to me like he wants to do more than dance."

"I'm sure he does, but what's the problem?  You let any Tom,
Dick, and Harry.  Why not screw Raul?  At least Raul can advance
our standard of living."

"That's different, those guys were anonymous encounters,
faceless fucks."

"What about the guy who comes every Thursday?  He sounds like a
lover to me."

"Well, he's not.  I don't even know his name.  He just shows up
every Thursday and screws me.  Wham bam, and he's gone.  Raul
will always be there.  He'll be your boss.  Word will get
around.  Besides, he's black, or half black.  If anyone in my
family got wind of us fucking, there'd be hell to pay.  Besides,
I'm not on the pill.  Suppose he got me pregnant.  That's why,
Bill."

"Regardless, he wants to meet you and he wants to dance with
you.  Is there any harm in that?"

"No, but he'd better not try anything.  I do not like being
pawed and groped in a public place, except in fantasy.  Don't
you dare leave us alone, not for a minute.  And another thing,
do not invite him in our house afterwards.  He might get fresh
with me in front of the kids.  I don't think it would be wise to
get on social terms with him.  Let's just do the dancing thing,
have a few drinks with him, get to know each other, and hope for
the best."

"I wish you'd remember who this guy is.  You could at least suck
him off, or let him fuck your ass.  Any man can fuck your ass,
remember?"

"He's not a man, he's a two legged horse.  Let him fuck you in
the ass.  You're the one trying to get a promotion.  I'll let
him talk to my titties while you get under the table and suck
his cock for him.  You'd probably like sucking a giant dick.
You couldn't keep your eyes off his crotch.  He probably saw you
licking your lips just thinking about it.  You're the only man I
ever met with penis envy."

That made me angry.  I lunged for her, pinned her to the
mattress, and fucked the shit out of her.  After I pulled out,
she cut me off forever, again."

Cynthia was nervous about meeting Raul.  I made his intentions
obvious, and she painted herself in a slutty corner by sticking
to her stories.  Everything was falling into place neater than a
puzzle for the mentally disabled.  I could see light at the end
of the tunnel.  If Raul was the cocksman he claimed to be, and
if Mr. Killinger was right about Cynthia's reaction to getting
screwed by a big cock, the only major hurdle was the bastard
pregnancy, and that hurdle did not loom as big as it did in Mr.
Killinger's office.

I thought I knew Cynthia inside and out, but she showed me many
more facets in just one afternoon.  I still had no doubt that
Cynthia had never experienced a dick other than mine, and for
her to go from my four-inch cock to one fourteen-inches had to
be frightening to her.  Hell, I was frightened for her.  I saw
the cock, and I knew Cynthia's pussy, at least the first four
inches of it.  Cynthia was not into pain, and for her to fuck a
two-legged horse, she'd have to be to enjoy it.

The next day passed quickly.  Cynthia grew more anxious as
the hour drew nearer.  She did not want to go out with Raul
without panties on, but I cajoled her into going bare under her
short dress.  I told her that I promised him she would.  She was
faced with the prospect of having to come clean, or play the
part of a woman who likes showing her pussy.  I wanted to see
how badly she wanted to preserve her stories, and I discovered
she wanted to preserve them very badly.

After she removed her panties, I said, "Now, he'll want to check
for himself, so don't make a fuss whether he lifts your skirt
for a look, or reaches under for a feel."

Cynthia recoiled at that thought, and said, "I can't let him do
that."

"Damn, Cynthia.  I don't understand you.  If you won't have sex
with this guy, the least you could do, the very least, is to let
him do anything else.  Compared to everything else you've done,
this is nothing.  Unless you were lying about all that."

"I wasn't lying about anything.  You saw the man's sperm for
yourself.  I just don't want to encourage him any more than I
have to, that's all."

"Well, you're going to have to let him check your pussy out as
often as he likes and however he likes, and act like you enjoy
showing it, even if people are watching.  If you don't, you're
going to make me look like a liar, and we can kiss that
promotion goodbye."

"Damn, Bill, why did you go back to see him and tell him those
things?"

"Because of what you told me.  I didn't see a problem.  Hell,
yesterday you wanted me to exaggerate your sexual prowess.
Today, when I go in and tell him how you really are, without
exaggeration, even holding back some information, you say I
should have lied the other way.  Jesus Christ, Cynthia, make up
your mind.  Actually, it's too late to do that.  He's been told.
He's expecting a hot woman who likes to show her pussy, and
that woman better be you.  I can forgive your cheating, I can
forgive what you did with my father, I can forgive all the sperm
you let into your unprotected womb, but if you ruin my chances
for promotion, Cynthia, I don't think I could forgive you for
that."

"Bill, I..."

"What, Cynthia?"

"Nothing.  I suppose it won't hurt to give him some cheap
thrills, but you'd better make damn sure he doesn't try to screw
me.  I have a weakness for big cocks, so you better be alert and
ready to intervene if you don't want a black baby calling you
Daddy.  Frankly, I could care less.  In fact, my lover is black."

I made a mock pained expression and said, "Oh, Cynthia, how
could you?"

"That's right, Bill.  That was a black man's sperm you saw in my
pussy yesterday.  Deal with that."

I was just about to deal with it when we heard a horn honking in
our driveway.  Cynthia tightened, and said, "Oh shit.  That's
him."

"Remember what I said, Cynthia.  You get your mind set to show
your pussy, all evening if necessary."

We left the bedroom and stopped at the door so Cynthia could
give last minute instructions to the sitter, a sixteen year old
from the neighborhood.  Kevin and John, my boys, and Angie
followed the sitter out to wave goodbye to us from the front
step.  Raul met us at the door and tossed me his keys.  I missed
them and fell back to pick them up.  I saw Raul pull Cynthia to
him and turn to walk with her to the car.  He swung an arm low
around Cynthia's waist, pulled her close and introduced himself
while sliding his hand below her skirt hem in the rear.  Me, my
kids, and my sitter saw him move the skirt up Cynthia's legs and
on up over her naked ass cheeks.

They hadn't taken six steps from us.  Cynthia stopped dead when
she felt her skirt clear her ass.  I could not believe what I
saw, and froze picking up the keys.  Raul swung around to stand
before Cynthia, then used both hands to cup her bare ass cheeks,
pulling her cunt in tight to his crotch, then bending to kiss
her.  Cynthia's hands came up as though to stop him or push him
away, but seconds into the kiss, her hands slowly fell to hang
limply at her sides.

At that moment, I wanted to scream or rush them, turn a hose on
them, something.  As the kiss went on, and as Raul's fingers
drifted lower toward Cynthia's sex pouch, which was already
visible to us, as his big dark hands kneaded and pulled at her
fleshy white globes, exposing more of her pouting cunt lips,
even her asshole, I didn't want to move.

The scene was the most erotic sight I ever saw, and the damage
had already been done.  The kids were rooted in place.  We were
all watching his fingers move down and in toward her moist
center, while he whispered something in her ear.  Soon, his
fingers were massaging her swollen cunt lips, rubbing over her
hanging clit, pulling her sex open, then squeezing her shut.  On
and on it went while Cynthia simply stood limply hanging on his
words and his kisses.  Cynthia was oblivious to everything
around her.  She had to be to allow such a crude exhibition to
go on before her kids, a neighbor, and me.

I had to do something, so I moved to open the passenger side
door for them.  They ignored that hint.  I went to the driver's
side, climbed in and started the car.  They ignored that as
well.  Luckily, the sun had set an hour ago, and the streets
were empty and quiet.  Only one house had a view, and it was
vacant.  They were illuminated by the porch light and the light
from the walkway lights shined up from below.  The sitter stood
rooted with the kids around her.

I knew they were going to fuck when I saw Cynthia drop her arms,
but I didn't think they'd fuck on my front lawn in front of my
kids and a girl with a reputation for talking.  The idea that
they might do just that had my dick hard.  Just when I thought
they would never stop, they broke the kiss.  Raul, turned
Cynthia to face the kids.  She stood staring straight ahead,
arms hanging, as Raul reached for the zipper of her dress and
slowly dragged her zipper down to her ass.  Cynthia made no move
to stop him, even as he peeled the sleeves off her naked
shoulders.  The dress fell to Cynthia's feet, leaving her in a
bra that he quickly divested her of.

Raul got close in behind her, pulled her head back by the chin,
and resumed the kiss as he molded Cynthia's breasts.  After a
few seconds on her breasts, his hands slid down to her crotch.
Though I only saw the action from profile, he was manipulating
her cunt as he'd done from the rear.  He finger fucked her.  Of
that, I had no doubt.  The action of his plunging hand coming up
in the center told me that much.  He stopped for a second to
place Cynthia's hands in her crotch.  When he let go, they
remained, but not idle.  Cynthia was masturbating before the kids
as Raul freed his cock and slid it through her wet inner thighs.
The end popped out the front by three inches and Cynthia pulled
the thick chocolate shaft tightly to her cunt.

I thought I'd seen it all, but then Raul reached down and lifted
Cynthia's left leg almost straight up with his arm hooked under
her knee, also while turning her one quarter.  The kids had the
best view as they looked at Cynthia's beaver in the standing
splits as Cynthia guided Raul's cock to her opening.  Even I
could see the head press in and the eight inches of shaft that
followed.

They fucked in this position.  Cynthia was delirious from the
first entry, and in a stupor by the end.  She came several
times, but her climaxes were not much more dramatic than her
response to the fucking in general.  When Raul came, he gave her
three more inches of cock.  There wasn't enough cock left out to
get a fist around.

He left his cock deeply embedded as he lowered her leg.  He had
to hold her up until she could stand steady.  He then drew out.
I saw the white river of cum pour out of her gaping wide hole
and cascade down both inner thighs.  Raul stepped back.  Cynthia
went forward and kept going forward until she got to the kids.
She stood before them, full front and talked.  I couldn't hear
what she was saying, but I could see where the kids were
looking.  They seemed fascinated by her pussy, and rightfully
so.  I was fascinated.

Raul gathered Cynthia's dress and came over to the car.  He
leaned his head in and said, "Piece of cake.  What did I tell
you?"

I said, "Did you have to fuck her in front of my kids, for
Christ sake?"

"I didn't have to, I wanted to.  Cynthia got off on it.  By the
looks of things, so did you.  Don't worry, the kids will see
much worse when Rambo Sambo stops by.  He likes to fuck the
mommies in front of the kiddies.  They'll get used to it, but
they never tire of watching."

I looked back to see what was taking Cynthia so long and saw her
standing with her knees out, stooped over with her hands in her
crotch.  The kids were on their knees looking at the pussy she
was showing them.  Raul said, "She sure is proud of her pussy.
She's acting like she never took a cock bigger than her finger."

Cynthia returned moments later and hopped in the car, declining
Raul's offer of the dress.  Raul got in beside her, tossed her
dress in the back seat, then pulled the door shut.  Cynthia
said, "You believe me now, don't you.  I warned you; I can't
resist a man with a big cock.  I guess you want a baby."

I said, "What were you talking to the kids about?"

"I had to explain why we were fucking on the front lawn, didn't
I?"

"And you explained that?"

"Sure.  I told them I was horny, and I'm in a hurry to make them
a new brother or sister.  Besides, Carla wanted to negotiate a
deal for her silence.  She wants to call her boyfriend over so
he can watch us when we get back tonight.  She wants to see us
do it on the living room floor with all the lights on.  The kids
want to stay up.  Can we do that, Raul?"

"Sure, baby, but you need a fresh cock if you're going to
perform.  I'll call Rambo Sambo from the club and have him meet
you here.  He's blacker than midnight with a cock bigger than
mine, only a little shorter.  He'll warm-up your audience for
you.  He's good with kids."

She said, "Call Carla over so I can tell her to let him in."

I said, "Cynthia, are you nuts?"

She ignored me and turned to the window to yell for the sitter.
Carla flounced over.  "Carla, there will be a big black man
coming over sometime tonight.  He's going to do the fucking you
want to see, so let him in and be nice to him.  He'll keep you
all entertained until I get back."

"Kevin and John want to fuck Angie.  Angie wants to let them.
Do you mind?"

"No, I don't mind.  You guys have fun.  Come on, Bill.  Let's
go.  The sooner we get there, the sooner I can show more pussy
and get more cock."

                              * * *

As it turned out, the club was Raul's, and it was a private
club.  Cynthia did a strip tease on a stage and performed every
sex act imaginable with Eugene before eighty people.  When we
arrived home, Rambo Sambo was giving my naked Angie a horsie
ride on his horsie cock.  Everyone was naked.  Cynthia fucked
Rambo Sambo on my living room floor with five minors peering in
at their fucking crotches from every angle.  On Monday morning,
I stripped Cynthia in the lobby and carried her to Mr.
Killinger's office, then set her on his desk.  Cynthia made a
spread for him and said, "I need Killinger cock, and lots of it."

I got the promotion.

                         --- THE END ---

