Chloe's Story Ch. 01

"It would be just what the doctor ordered," Mr. Compton replied.

I knew this invitation was not exactly proper, but the brandy and the cocaine had affected me 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. Mr. Damon walked over to me and offered me some more cocaine from a tiny silver spoon. The effect this time was instantaneous.

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 brought me more cocaine, 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 cocaine made everything around me glow with an inner beauty.

In a sort of 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.

I quickly threw my hands down to cover myself.

"No, please, Mr. Damon. Don't do that," I begged. "I'm not that kind of girl," I pleaded lamely. "I've never been with anyone but my husband." Even in the haze of cocaine, I knew that things had now gone too far, and that I probably would not escape this. I hoped I wanted to.

Mr. Compton calmly pulled my hands away from my vagina, and I felt the head of Mr. Damon's sex begin slowly to part my labia.

"No, Mr. Damon. Please, please. Please don't do this," I sobbed, now nearing panic. I did not want to be raped but I knew I was about to be.

Neither Mr. Damon nor Mr. Compton said a single word. Mr. Compton held my hands above my head, and 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, breaking the strange silence that accompanied my rape.

"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 raped before, either!

"Open your mouth, Chloe."

I had stopped sobbing, but Mr. Compton's abrupt command started me all over again. But I did open my mouth, and 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 viciously slapped me twice across the face. "Jesus Christ, Chloe, haven't you ever sucked cock before?" Mr. Compton snapped.

"No," I sobbed 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 him, 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. I had been raped. There was no doubt about that. I had pleaded with both of them to stop. But they hadn't. They 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.

Derrick

On the Monday after my incredible evening with Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton, Joey told me that he would have to be out of town on Tuesday to attend some sort of dealership training or something. I knew immediately that I had lied to myself earlier and that I was in fact going to call Derrick. The realization surprised me, believe it or not. I really had convinced myself that I would never do such a traitorous thing to Joey. Yet later that night, under the pretence of going to the drug story for "women's stuff," I called Derrick on my cell and arranged to meet him at an up-scale bar downtown the next night, a place where no one who knows me or Joey is likely to be. It's mostly lawyers and businessmen.

All day at work I obsessed about what to wear and tried to sublimate my guilt over what I was doing. I rationalized it by acknowledging that some men were simply superior to others and by their very nature deserved to have whatever they could take. Men like Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton. Could anyone really deny that they were higher sorts than most other men? I don't know that I can really explain it. It gets all confused in my head. But isn't it sort of like survival of the fittest? They took me because they could, because they were the strongest, and Joey, if he would really think about it, would know that he is not in the same league as these men, and would know way down deep inside, that what they did was their right. And Derrick was that kind of man, too.

I decided it would be best not to draw too much attention to myself, so I decided to wear a white flared skirt that was sexy only because it is short and a white cashmere vee-neck that I decided looked more alluring without a bra than with. Actually, I went back and forth on that, thinking that I might draw too much attention to myself sans bra, but on the other hand, wanting to be at least a little tantalizing for Derrick. Tantalizing won out. White ankle strap pumps and particularly sheer thigh highs completed the look I wanted.

We'd agreed to meet at 8:00, but I wanted to be a little late so as not to look too terribly eager, though I was. I got there by taxi about 8:20 and found Derrick at the bar talking with another guy, who turned out to be some sports announcer on local television named Stan something or other. Derrick introduced me as his "date," which I liked, and after some inane sort of sports blah blah, Derrick took me to a table near the back, where we were finally alone.

"You look hot, babe," Derrick grinned. "You see the way Stan was checking you out?"

I actually had noticed, but pretended not to.

"I'm really a little nervous about being here," I said. "But I'm glad I came."

"Just relax, Baby. Let's have a couple of drinks and reminisce."

"Reminisce?" I said. "Derrick, we hardly ran in the same circles at school. You were way popular, and no one knew my name. But I do know stories about you," I giggled. "I was terribly interested in all the things I heard about you."

"Yeah, like what?"

"You really want to know? They don't speak highly of your moral character," I said grinning at him.

"Sure, what did people say? I'll tell you if they're true."

"Well, there's one story that you picked a new freshman chick to fuck every month. Is that true?" I asked coyly.

"Yep, and when I finished with her, I'd pass her on to my posse."

"Jesus, you are soooo bad! I also heard that maybe not all of the girls consented?"

"You mean said, no? Some did, but I kind of ignore that. Easier that way."

There was a time I would have been upset about such a remark, but after my experience with Mr. Damon and Mr. Compton, I understood completely. Like them, Derrick was a different breed. Like them, he could and should ignore "no"!

"You are just awful, Derrick. But I guess it's true that good girls do like bad boys," I said, smiling coyly into his eyes. "I also heard that you never use a condom and that you got at least six girls pregnant in high school, not counting Mrs. Martin."

"Eight."

"You have eight kids!" I exclaimed.

"I got one. The others got taken care of."

"Abortions?"

"Yeah. The other bitch was this little freshman cunt who thought abortion was a sin or some shit like that."

"Did you get Mrs. Martin pregnant on purpose? I heard that you did."

"Long, weird story. First off her little pussy professor husband walked in on us one afternoon when I was fucking her, like just as I was ready to unload in her, and says something stupid like 'what's going on here?' So I calmly get out of the bed, walk over to him, and punch the punk hard in the face. He just drops like a sack. I tell him, 'Listen, punk, don't ever disturb me when I'm about to blow my wad in your bitch's cunt, got that?' Then I kick him in the gut and walk out.

"Jeeze, Derrick. Weren't you at all scared he'd do something?"

He just laughed. "Nah, he was a wimp, just like your husband. He 'forgave' her and I just kept on fucking her whenever I felt the urge. I used to make her come to school without panties and make her show a couple of buddies."

"And she did it?" I asked in amazement.

"Sure, just like you will. Anyway, about her getting knocked up. Her punk husband had some shit like low sperm count or something, so she was always taking her temperature and some other weird stuff and then scheduling sex with him. I never followed what was going on until some other cunt I was fucking put me wise. Like soon as I snapped to what was going on, I told her the second she was ready to call me. So she does, I pop a kid in her belly first time, her husband thinks it's his, everybody's happy."

"Does it feel weird to know the kid is yours?

"Nah, means nothing to me."

"How about the one who wouldn't get an abortion? Do you see that kid?"

"No. Hey, let's talk about something else, okay."

"Sure. Like what?"

"Like how I'm going to fuck you tonight!"

"How? Well, I guess you're going to fuck me anyway you want, right?" I said, breathlessly and brazenly.

"Let's finish these drinks and go out to my place. I want to check out that hot bod again."

In the car, Derrick told me a little bit about his life since high school. He'd gotten a football scholarship to the state university and made All American in his junior year there, but in his senior year, he tore his knee apart, and after three surgeries everyone agreed his playing days were over. But he was lucky to have met a very wealthy booster at college who took a liking to him, and when he left, he set him up as the general manager of a very successful car dealership in town and gave him the use of his house in a very exclusive section of town known as Deer Park manor. That's where we were heading now.

I asked him about his current relationship with Teri. He laughed and said that I had been the best thing for their relationship because after that night at the reunion she had gone on pills and a diet and took up a fitness routine at the gym and in the process had begun to rapidly shed weight. She was apparently quickly on her way to regaining her high school figure. I can't say that pleased me, because I truly did relish looking so much better than she did, but how could I complain, really, since her boyfriend was taking me off to have sex with me.

"Where is she tonight?" I asked.

"Back at her apartment." "Doesn't she live with you?" I asked, somewhat surprised.

"Most of the time, but I told her she needed to keep her own place 'cause I needed space every once in a while. I need space tonight."

"I hope you won't keep much space between us tonight!" I teased.

He laughed and said he intended to invade my space very deeply! I could feel my nipples stiffen.

"How'd a wimp like Joey get a hot body like you, Chloe," Derrick asked off handedly.

"Maybe 'cause you didn't ask," I kidded.

When we pulled into the driveway where Derrick lived, I was definitely impressed. It was a magnificent Tudor style house with a large, manicured lawn and lush gardens lit by soft yellow lighting that lent the entire landscape a soft, romantic appeal.

"God, Derrick, this is beautiful."

"So are you, babe," he said, pulling me closer to him and bending down to kiss me.

His kiss was almost exactly what I expected: urgent, demanding, aggressive. It was perfect. My response was instant submission. I signaled in every way possible that I was now his to do what he wanted. When he reached down to pull my sweater over my head, I felt my heart begin to beat frenetically. Tonight, I was going to be what I promised at the reunion.

"You have a fantastic rack, babe," he said holding both breasts in his hands while feeling their heft. "Fucking heavy, too! You had this rack in high school?"

"They kinda grew all of a sudden in my sophomore year," I murmured.

"Why the fuck didn't you show them? I'd been on you so fast. God damn these are fine," he said, kneading my boobs forcefully now and pinching my straining nipples. "Well, their mine now and that's all that counts," he said. "I'll want to show a couple of friends this set, you know."

I just nodded and said quietly, "Yes, of course..... Like you said, they're yours now."

Out of the car, I felt exotic and enticing, standing topless in the soft light of Derrick's enchanting yard.

"You've got a totally hot body, babe. I'm going to want to show that too. Now lose the mini"

I immediately unzipped the skirt and squirmed out of it, pleased at the way he looked at me and proud to be the source of his admiration. Standing now in nothing but thigh highs and heels, I watched him soak up my figure, running his hands over my hips onto my butt and then to my yearning clit. His touch there and his subtle penetration nearly buckled my knees. If he wanted to show me off, then I wanted him to show me off. Desperately!

"Pick your clothes up and throw them in the trash over there. You won't need them again."