Alphia Corporation Ch. 03

Carrie's tummy was doing flip flops. It had started as soon as the limousine had arrived at their home to take them to the airport.

She had spent the morning scurrying around packing her new clothes for the possible weekend activities. Karen's advice had been invaluable.

There were three evenings to worry about so she has packed all three of her new gowns, each different levels of decency. The red gown was the most daring. It fit on her hips perfectly and set off her coloring so well. It had a scandalous slit up one leg almost all the way to her hip and a large diamond-shaped opening in the front that clearly showed off her breasts.

A bra was out of the question and anyone looking at her would wonder whether she was wearing anything underneath at all. When she modeled it in the store for Karen and the saleswomen, her unrestrained breasts wobbled enticingly as she moved.

Carrie blushed when she thought of herself in that gown at dinner with the executives and the Roberts Media team.

She carefully packed the gowns and the business skirt suit she was not wearing on the flight over. She spent a long while agonizing over which of her new lingerie she should bring for the executives' entertainment portion of the trip. She considered modeling them again for Sam to help decide but figured that that might be cruel and unusual punishment given the stoppage on all relief for him until the trip was complete.

In the end, she just packed all the lingerie and hoped Karen would help her choose.

All told, what with last minute grooming and makeup and children's interruptions, it took four hours to get ready.

She was dressed in an elegant business skirt suit, the new stockings and heels she had worn for Sam the evening before and a lovely translucent cream blouse through which her lace bra was clearly visible. With her cute suit jacket she was elegant and sexy business chic.

And then the limousine arrived from the Alphia offices, bearing Sam. She said her teary goodbyes to the children as Mrs. Kenny, the competent and pleasant grandmother whom Alphia kept on retainer for such child care situations, reassured Carrie again and again that the children were in good hands.

"Go on, don't worry a bit, dearie," she said in her delightful Irish accent. "I've got grandchildren their age. They will be fine."

And this appeared to be true. The children were miraculously content, playing separately on the kitchen floor.

Carrie let herself be led to the waiting limousine and off they went. She held her husband's hand in the car. She sniffled a bit about leaving her babies but he held her hand and reassured her that it was only for a weekend and that all would be well.

The limousine took them to a separate entrance to a smaller runway system to the north of the standard airport, through a security gate and right out onto the tarmac, to the steps of the open door to the Lear Jet with the Alphia symbol on the side.

"This is like a movie scene," she whispered to Sam, clutching his arm.

"I know, I know. It really does," he replied, giving her a kiss. "I am excited about this new adventure. I hope we are ready for it."

"Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson?" The driver opened their door and assisted Carrie out of the car as a steward began moving their luggage onto the aircraft.

She and Sam were greeted at the top of the steps by the Captain. "I am Captain Smith. Pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson."

Mr. Parsons was still absent, but Karen and Gary were already aboard, talking with a powerful looking, dark-haired handsome man with broad shoulders in an expensive, tailored suit.

The steward led them on board and to the group of three people. There was a leather couch on one side, and a bar on the other. Before that were eight large, comfortable-looking leather armchairs arranged such that all could have an intimate conversation.

Gary shook Sam's hand and Karen gave Carrie a kiss and squeezed her hand in greeting.

"Sam, Mrs. Stevenson," Mr. Borges said, introducing himself to Carrie. "Steve Borges. I am a Senior Executive and President of Sales at Alphia. It is a pleasure to meet you."

His tone was purely professional, but his eyes lingered aggressively over her body. She blushed a little and she felt Sam tense up.

"Thank you," she replied with only a slight tremble in her voice as she shook the proffered hand.

"We are here because your husband came up with a genius idea. You should be proud of him."

"I - I didn't know," Carrie stammered, her hand still clasped between Mr. Borges' two firm hands. She took a breath and stood up straight as she stopped flustering. "I am very proud of him."

"Good. We are too," Mr. Borges said. "Tom told me that you were a stunning woman, and he wasn't lying."

He smiled at Sam and clapped him on the shoulder. "You are a lucky man."

"Oh, I know ..." Sam said, but Mr. Borges interrupted him, turning his wolfish eyes back to Carrie, his eyes lingering on her chest. "Your wife is going to make this business trip really, really fun."

Carrie reddened under his stare.

"Looks fabulous, but lose the bra," Mr. Borges instructed.

Carrie gaped, but at that moment Mr. Parsons arrived and Mr. Borges turned to greet him. "Now we can get this show on the road."

"Yes, sir," Captain Smith called from the cockpit.

As the men greeted one another, Karen helped Carrie undo the buttons on her blouse so that she could snake an arm through one sleeve, undo her brassiere and pull it out the other side and down her arm.

Blushing, she handed her bra to her husband and Sam slipped it into his coat pocket. Her breasts were now clearly visible through her translucent blouse, her pink nipples tenting the delicate fabric.

Karen was slim and sexy in a slinky black professional-looking dress, the hem ending significantly above the knee. With her luxurious dark hair put up, and her long legs encased in sexy black stockings, she looked like the fashion model she used to be.

The six people slipped into the arm chairs in preparation for takeoff. Carrie felt four sets of male eyes hungrily scan her chest. Mr. Borges stared intently at her tits before raising his eyes to hers.

"Beautiful," he said. "Much better this way."

"Thank you," Carrie said as calmly as she could. She crossed her legs against the sudden tingle in her pussy. She reached over and found Sam's hand and they held hands while the men continued to talk and stare at her exposed breasts.

Mr. Parsons gave her a frown that she did not understand until Karen leaned over. "You're working now. No touching your husband without permission."

She reluctantly released Sam's hand.

Mr. Borges nodded to her. "Ladies, get me a scotch. We've got to get down to business."

As the two wives got up and went to the bar to fix the drink orders, Carrie's breasts visible and delicious and Karen looking like the million dollar model that she had been, Mr. Borges turned to his team.

"The key is to get this deal closed for anything less than $25 million. We don't actually give a shit about Roberts Media itself; we are only truly interested in the intellectual property they've got. They patented the internet tool concept that Sam here came up with, but they don't know how to extract its value."

Sam nodded.

"The most obvious problem we have is that there really is very little business synergy between Alphia and Roberts Media," Mr. Parsons offered. "The Roberts team expressed surprise when they realized that the offer had come from Alphia. They are not completely stupid; they are going to be looking around for the reason why Alphia is putting in the offer so they can find leverage for their counter."

Gary nodded. "So what's the plan, then?"

"Tom and I have dinner reservations tonight at seven o'clock for a get to know each other kind of thing," Mr. Borges said. "We are bringing your wives as our dates. I have found that having a really good looking woman on my arm at these types of meetings commands a certain amount of respect. It is a good start to the upcoming negotiations."

"Depending on how things go, your wife will either be coming back with us to the hotel suites, or she will be spreading her legs in the Roberts Media team hotel room."

Sam's eyes widened and Carrie gave a startled cough. The senior executives glanced at her with amusement as Karen patted her knee.

"It will be fine honey," she murmured to Carrie, "that's what we're here for."

Sam did not know where to rest his eyes. He glanced at his wife, her breasts clearly visible through her sheer top, at Karen's long legs that looked to stretch all the way to heaven, at Gary who had placidly ignored the exchange and at Mr. Parsons who gave him a knowing smirk.

Sam gave him a nervous smile in return and then tried to get his mind back on business.

"What do you need from us?" Gary asked calmly, indicating Sam and himself.

"Look, Roberts is ready to sell. The old man is looking to cash out and his sons are a pair of assholes who care about nothing but short-term cash in hand," Mr. Borges said. "Everybody knows that the only issue is the price and that there aren't any other serious bidders. We've come in at fifteen million, which is significantly less than the eighteen million that Roberts is priced at on the street. They know we are going to come up, and the question is how far."

Sam and Gary nodded.

"They don't have any real price leverage right now, because they don't know why we are interested. They don't have any idea that we don't give a shit about the Roberts brand and they sure as shit don't have a fucking clue that it's their intellectual property portfolio we are after," Mr. Borges continued in his brusque, profane and aggressive sales director manner.

Sam had in his mind's eye Mr. Borges sitting behind his desk and barking directions in the same manner to the smart, slim and pretty Karen Owens, telling her what items of her clothing to remove next as she slowly disrobed while giving him her weekly sales report. He could just see her struggling to maintain her professional demeanor while walking him through her power point presentation as she peeled off the layers of her business attire before Mr. Borges' hungry gaze, knowing all the while that he had the most unbusinesslike intentions for her as soon as her report was complete.

His cock strained the confines of his pants as he realized that he might someday have a similar job, and that his darling Carrie was now in this aggressive man's control until Sunday night.

Mr. Borges' voice dragged him back from his daydreams.

"The fact that it makes no sense for Alphia to want to purchase Roberts Media has them confused. I don't mind them confused, but I do not want them figuring out the real reason for the offer."

"That's where you two come in," he nodded towards Sam and Gary

"I am sorry," Sam said, "but I'm not following."

"You and Gary are going to paper up a fake reason and it's got to be good enough for us to sell them on it." Mr. Parsons said. "You are going to put together a confidential white paper for tomorrow's actual negotiations showing Alphia's 'new' business model."

Sam and Gary thought for a moment.

"What if we decide that Alphia is planning to make a move into the Europe telecom markets," Sam offered. "I don't think we are actually planning that, not as far as I know anyway, but Roberts Media would be a decent foothold in the industry if someone wanted to make that move."

"Interesting," Mr. Parsons said, "but that might be too close to ..."

"No," Sam interrupted, knowing where the question was going. "It's not related at all to the internet marketing technology that they own and don't realize how to use. It might seem like it, but it is a totally different business line."

Mr. Parsons looked doubtful but Mr. Borges cut in.

"Look, I don't fucking care whether it's close or not. You're the expert here. The only question I need to know is this: can you pull the false model together today such that you can walk me through it on my way to supper, and can you paper up the false 'confidential' business plan so that Tom and I have something tangible to show them tomorrow to throw them off track?"

Sam and Gary looked at each other for a brief moment. "Yes," Gary said confidently.

"Fuck it, let's roll with that concept," Mr. Borges said.

The men talked for a few hours on the details of the plan. It was decided that Gary would put together the financials of the pretend new European enterprise with Roberts Media while Sam would take a look at their technology and learn it enough so that the senior executive team could sell the lie.

"You give me a plausible business model and I can sell it," Mr. Borges said gruffly, displaying again the rare combination of arrogance, aggression, intellect and competence that had allowed him to rise to the post of Senior Executive and Director of Sales at Alphia Corporation, one of the most profitable privately-held companies in the United States.

"I have closed deals like this a million times," he said, taking a pull from his scotch. "The old man might have been a real tough adversary, but his sons are a couple of money hungry fuckwits, busy trying to screw each other out of equity so that he can cash in on this sale."

He checked his watch, a large and clunky expensive-looking timepiece and shook his head. "We are landing in a couple of hours and we've reserved a suite for you two to work in. Get to work as soon as we land and call my cell at 6:30. On the dot. That gives you 30 minutes to bring me up to speed as the limo takes us to dinner. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Gary replied.

"Tom, the ladies will need ... hang on," Mr. Borges said as he looked over his shoulder and called out to the two wives who were talking quietly together off to the side. "How much time do you need to get ready for the dinner reservations? Can you do it in 45 minutes?"

Carrie looked at Karen for help. "We will need at least an hour, Mr. Borges. We will need to ... clean up, shower, redo makeup and hair, and dress. We cannot do it in less than an hour, and that will be rushing things," Karen said.

"OK, they need an hour," he said to his fellow senior executive. "We land at one, get to the hotel by two ... That will be perfect timing, Tom." He smirked at the two junior executives who were busy working on the project, their heads together in front of Sam's laptop computer screen discussing some aspect of the project.

"Yeah, I think so, Steve," Mr. Parsons agreed grinning in anticipation and staring hungrily at the ladies. "That Carrie is smoking hot and Gary's wife is always a good fuck."

Mr. Borges nodded his agreement and with a clink of good crystal the two dominant males toasted their good fortune.

"Sam. Gary," Mr. Borges called out to the junior executives. They both looked up at him over the open laptop screen that Sam had been working on.

"Arrangements are as usual," he drawled. "We've got adjoining suites for Tom and me and Karen and Carrie. You are sharing a suite down the hall."

Gary nodded, and with a guilty look at Carrie, who met his glance with a nervous but very excited little smile, Sam did as well. His heart was thumping and his palms were sweaty.

"We will be at the hotel at two, and since we don't know whether your wives are going to entertain the Roberts team after dinner, we are going to fuck Karen and Carrie in our suites until five thirty when we four will knock off to give the girls time enough to get cleaned up and ready for dinner."

"At six thirty, you guys call my cell to lay everything on me so I can sell the idea. Then get some food brought up and get back to work until nine. Be in our suites by nine thirty and when we return from the dinner meeting we will recap the day and plan for tomorrow."

Mr. Borges looked seriously at both of them. "Got it?"

"Got it," Gary replied.

"Good," and then he and Mr. Parsons headed to the bar where they chatted up Sam and Gary's wives until it was time to land, get to the hotel and start the debauchery.

________________________________________

Sam and Gary set up a workstation in the work area of their suite and in order to stop thinking about what might be going on in the suite down the hall, got right down to business.

It took them a couple of hours, but by four, two hours after each of their wives had waved goodbye as they were whisked off on each of Mr. Borges' arms, they pretty much had the plan down.

"Man, let's take a break for a half hour or so," Sam said to Gary who gratefully agreed.

"I need a few minutes to recharge my batteries before we finish up."

Sam was anxious about what was happening to his wife in the clutches of the two senior executives.

"I mean I'm sure that - they have - you know," Sam sputtered to Gary, grasping for any information about what his Carrie was going through.

"Look, your wife is here to screw Steve and Tom. If they haven't both fucked her by now, they will have both had her several times before the weekend is over. And that is if we are lucky," Gary said, accurately.

Sam looked at him, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Hopefully Karen and Carrie will spend the nights with Steve and Tom instead of the guys on the Roberts Media team," Gary explained. "Whoever they are."

After four and a half agonizing hours of working, imagining and fantasizing, the two extremely frustrated junior executives called Steve Borges' cell phone.

"I thought of something," Mr. Borges said brusquely as he took the call. "If we are going to buy this company, we are potentially taking on people at the executive level, which we do not want to do."

He paused and Sam and Gary heard the ladies talking quietly in the background as they settled into the back of the limousine. "Find a way to do this deal so we can break all the golden handcuffs that the owners will have written in for themselves."

"Ahhh, OK," Sam stalled, not knowing the first thing about how to complete that task.

"Good, then gimme what you got," Mr. Borges said brusquely.

For the next five minutes, Mr. Borges listened to their fake business plan, grunting in all the right places to let them know he understood.

For the next twenty minutes, Steve peppered Sam and Gary with questions and challenges which they were able to handle to his satisfaction.

Mr. Borges made no mention of either Karen or Carrie during the conversation at all, but the junior men could hear their wives in the background, talking and laughing with Mr. Parsons.

"OK, we are here. Bye." Mr. Borges abruptly disconnected and the two junior men looked at each other across the suddenly silent speaker phone.

"Damnit!" Sam said with feeling.

"Agreed." Gary said. "I don't know how to deal with the internal compensation contracts at Roberts. What are we supposed to do?"

They looked helplessly at each other. "I'll make a few calls, Sam. See if I can get some of the other departments to work on it."

Gary picked up the phone and Sam sighed as he returned to writing up fake technology white papers to insert into the business documents Steve and Tom would use as props during the negotiation the next day.

After another ninety minutes of work and consultations with legal and human resources back at Alphia headquarters Sam and Gary concluded that if there was a way to get the job done, they were not going to figure it out.

Frustrated in more ways than one, Sam put six hard miles on one of the hotel treadmills and then returned to the room to get ready.

Refraining from self-help during his shower was one of the most challenging things he had ever endured. He could not keep his mind from erotic fantasies involving his Carrie with Karen and multiple eager and aggressive men.

At nine thirty, the two more or less willing cuckolds appeared anxiously at the executives' empty suites exactly on time and took in the layout of the lavish arrangements. Whatever might have gone on in the rooms with their wives any evidence of it was no longer in existence as the professional and discrete housekeeping staff had been through all the rooms.