As Stocks Go Up, Ladies Go Down

This story is a work of fiction. All characters are over the age of 18.

I hope you enjoy it and any feedback is appreciated.

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There is a continuing hum of voices, with an occasional shout, in the Bullpen. The Bullpen is surrounded by glass walled offices, and everyone is on the phone. Rookie stockbrokers start out in the Bullpen. They have a desk, a phone, and a Quotron. Only the strong survive at Hendrick & Hendrick Investments.

Art Winter was going to be a survivor. He had already built a good base of a Book, and was exceeding his draw each month. He was always at his desk when the bell opened the Markets. Working in Los Angles made one get up well before the Sun to be at their desk when the markets opened in New York. Art always got an adrenaline rush when his Quotron became alive with numbers jumping across the screen. This was 1979, and Art was young and making money. He was in his element. As a young boy he became fascinated with the Dow Jones instead of the Dodgers. And this game was measured in dollars, not hits and runs. The more money your Book generated, the more valuable a player you were. Art was going to be in the 'starting lineup' come hell or high water.

Many of the brokers in the office were in their mid-thirties, or there abouts. The few old guys kept to themselves mostly, and just kept making money. Once a broker had a good, established book of clients, his earning power was great. His Book was an asset to be passed along to his son, or sold off to another broker. Hendrick & Hendrick were one of the few independently owned firms that had kept to many of the old way of doing business. Little did Art and his buddies know that great changes were inevitable. They still made fun of the new Charles Schwab, and the future was too far off for them to care. They were making more money than most of them ever thought possible, and they were going to keep 'making hay.'

Most everyone in Art's world worked hard, and played even harder. Since the markets closed at 1PM in Los Angeles, long lunches were common place. On occasion lunch moved into Happy Hour, and then into dinner. Today happened to be one of those days.

Art had just gotten off the phone, when Bill Owens yelled from his office, "How about lunch at Homers?"

"Sounds great," Art yelled back. Homers was their 'go to' place, and all the waitresses knew them by name. It was like their home away from home.

"Good," Bill said as he walked by Art's desk. "By the way, June and Amy will probably join us later for Happy Hour. Ok?"

Art gave him a thumbs up, and put his Book and papers away. June was Bill's assistant that he shared with Robert, who's office was next to Bill's. Bill and Art were running buddies, that is they trained together, and ran 10k races most every weekend. Bill had run track in college, but had gotten a bit fluffy. When Art was new in the office, and made a comment about running a race the next Saturday, Bill got inspired. Art was just an average weekend 10k runner, and Bill was pressed to keep up with Art at first. But after Bill got back into a regular routine, his old college form returned, and he was banging out six-minute miles on Saturdays. They became good friends that ran hard, and played hard as well.

Bill had been in the business a few years ahead of Art, and he had to work extra hard. He had two ex-wives, two child support payments each month, and was living with his third wife. In addition, he was currently bonking his assistant, June on the side. Every time Art thought about Bill's situation he just shook his head and laughed. But he had to admit, June was a very attractive young lady. She was tall, slender, and had a great ass. Guys would follow her ass with their eyes as she walked through the office. Art was as guilty as the rest.

Amy on the other hand, was built just the opposite. Amy was the new girl in the office and worked as a receptionist. She was petite, cute, and had a killer body. She was small, but she was built. Her breasts were almost too much for her small frame, but she carried them well, and she looked like a gymnast we big boobs. She had short blond hair that framed her face, and Art couldn't help but wonder if she was a real blond, or not.

Art wondered if June was trying to fix him up with Amy. Amy was cute, but he was currently seeing a really sweet girl that had nothing to do with his business. Ellen was a nurse, and they had met at a mutual friend's birthday party a few weeks ago. They were still in the 'development' stage of a relationship, but he really liked her.

Around 4 o'clock he saw Bill with his briefcase heading out. "Happy Hour is on old boy," Bill laughed. "See you at Murphy's!"

When Art arrived at Murphy's, he immediately saw the gang at a table. June was hanging allover Bill, and Amy looked cute in her little red sundress, with buttons all the way down the front. The dress accented her assets, so to speak.

Soon they were close to finishing their second round, and by the talk, and laughter from the ladies, he was pretty sure they had done shots before he arrived. Soon the ladies excused themselves, picked up their purses, and headed for the ladies' room. Bill leaned over and said, "Let's go over to June's apartment. Its close and we can order some pizzas and party awhile."

"Sounds like a plan," Art replied, with a tip of his almost empty glass. Just then the ladies appeared back at the table. Art noticed Amy looked different, and he was almost positive she had taken off her bra in the restroom. He could see the outlines of hard little nipples poking through the fabric. She was laughing and giggling with June, and he became mesmerized by the sway of her tits as the girls laughed and talked.

_________

June had a nice one-bedroom apartment just a few blocks from the ba,r and before Art knew it, they were all drinking more margaritas from June's blender and eating pizza. June was back in the kitchen with Bill, who was pawing her ass as she worked the blender one more time. Bill wasn't even subtle with his hands. It was obvious he was grabbing her ass as he stood behind the tall, and very tipsy brunette, as she pumped the blende buttons.

Amy had curled up on the sofa and was hanging on Art's shoulder, her knees tucked under her. He looked down and noticed her little sundress was hiked halfway up her thighs, and that two buttons at the top had become undone. He could feel a slight tingle down between his legs as he listened to her talk. With no bra, and two buttons free, the movement of her ample breasts were amazing. He thought all that was needed was to reach down, flick one more button, and they pop free from the confines of her dress. Just as this devilish thought almost turned into action, Bill appeared from the kitchen. "One more batch boys and girls!" he yelled.

As the latest pitcher of margaritas began to dwindle, June was sitting in Bill's lap as they played kissy face. Amy kept chatting, with just a slight slur in her speech. It was amazing how such a little person could consume so much tequila and still be upright. Also, thoughts of Ellen, his latest dating project, were slipping to the back of his brain. Amy would squeeze his leg every now and then to emphasize some point she was making, or when laughing at something he said.

As Amy was telling Art a story about something or other, his thoughts always kept returning to her little red sundress, and what it strained to contain. Then he realized he needed to pee badly. "Excuse me, I will be right back," Art said as he moved from the couch and headed down the hall to the bathroom.

Reaching his destination, he quickly went in and closed the door. Just has he was reaching for his zipper, and anticipating getting that feeling of relief he needed, the bathroom door opened and Amy slipped in, closing the door in one swift move. All Art could do was whisper a loud, "What?"

Amy just giggled, and on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the mount. All he could do, being a gentleman, was kiss her back. But the over powering urge of his bladder came back into his consciousness, and he gently pushed her back. "Amy, what the hell are you doing?"

Amy just giggled. "I want to watch," she said with a big smile, as she regained her balance.

Art found himself speechless as Amy smiled and said, "Please...I have never seen a guy pee up close." She gave him a little smile with her hands together, as if begging.

What is a man to do? It only took a second for Art to blurt out, "OK! But if I do let you watch, you gotta return the favor, and you have to let me watch you pee."

It looked like she was thinking it over, then she quickly made a little giggle and said, "Ok, it's a deal. You first."

Tequila, a cute girl that is a wee bit drunk, a little red sundress just begging to be unbuttoned, makes for a dangerous combination. Art just smiled, turned toward the commode, and unzipped his pants. This was a bit crazy, but he really had to pee in the worst way, and his dick was getting hard.

As he pulled his growing member from his pants, and aimed at the water, he looked over at Amy. Her eyes were big, and she had a little smile across her face as she focused on his dick. She moved to his side to get close, and pressed her body against him. Art closed his eyes so he could concentrate, for his need to pee, and the arousal of his penis were in combat. Then the urge to pee won, and he let go a hard stream into the waiting water. Amy just giggled.

"Oh my! That's so cool," she exclaimed, as she put an arm around him and moved even closer. She bent her head down toward his hand that controlled his stream into the water.

It was all he could do to concentrate. She was so close he could almost feel her breath on his hand. It was like she was hypnotized by his growing penis, and the stream of water he poured out. The he noticed her hand on his side, moving toward his hand holding his penis. He looked down, and something made him say, "You want to hold it? You have to keep it pointed down."

Like someone who just opened a Christmas present, she looked up and smiled. "Oh yes!" she exclaimed.

To say there was sexual tension in the small bathroom would be an understatement. As Art's stream slowed, like an expert, she moved his dick downward so the stream would be sure to fall into the water. Her hand felt incredible as he pumped to get the last of his pee toward the target. She giggled as she felt his dick twitch.

Amy kept her hand on Art's penis as it became hard after his peeing had stopped. He wasn't exceptionally endowed, like many of the male porn stars that dominated the video tapes. Those tapes that were available in the Adults Only room of his local video tape rental store. No, his was of what could be said to be average in length. But apparently Mother Nature had decided that his cock would be above average in girth. It wasn't overly long, but it was big around, and hard as steel when totally at full attention. Amy just stared with her mouth slightly open.

"It's big...it's really big," she mumbled. Art reached down and slowly removed her hand. It had felt wonderful on his cock, but he was going to collect his part of the deal.

"You turn," Art said with a big smile. Amy's face suddenly changed, and he wondered if she was having second thoughts, and would back out of the deal. He decided not to wait and see. "Lift your dress," he said in a hushed, but commanding voice.

As if she was a bit stunned, she reached down, grabbed the hem of her sundress, and slowly moved it up. She stopped when it got to mid-thigh. "Higher," he said. This time she looked him in the eyes, and gave him that little smile, and continued bunching her dress up around her waist, exposing her cute white laced panties. Art, with his hard dick still free, and pointing at the ceiling, bent down on his knees, putting him at eye level with her lace covered pussy. He hooked his fingers in the elastic, and slowly, ever so slowly, began to pull her panties down.

He felt like he was unveiling some special treasure that had been hidden for ages. It was all he could do to go slow. The first thing that he realized was that Amy was indeed a natural blond. As he continued pulling, small whisps of blond public hair were exposed. As he moved further down, her privates came fully into view. She was beautiful. The thin, blond public hair seemed almost silky, and allowed an unobstructed view of the full lips, which framed her glistening opening. It was obvious that she was very, very wet. He just held her panties at half-mast, and stared at her naked pussy. His dick twitched again as he noticed Amy's breathing had increased, and a small moan escaped her lips as her nakedness was exposed to his gaze. He had an urge to bend down and kiss her beautiful, little blonde bush, but kept at his task, and pull her panties all the way down to her ankles. Then gently lifting each foot in turn, completely removed them.

Standing up, Art wadded her panties into a small ball and stuffed them into his pants pocket. "Those are mine now," he said with a big smile. "Your turn!"

Amy didn't hesitate, and backed towards the porcelain seat, keeping her dress bunched up around her waist. She was going to keep her part of the deal. It was some scene with Art back on his knees, a raging hardon pointing straight up, Amy sans panties, dress bunched up, sitting on the toilet. He moved directly in front of her, focusing directly between her legs. He didn't notice her smile as she leaned back just a bit, spread her legs wide, and let out a stream into the water below.

For Art, it seemed like time stood still. This was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. He was so hard it almost hurt. As Amy's pee gushed into the water, and he could hear her moaning slightly. She just kept peeing for what seemed for a long time.

As he looked up, their eyes met as the sound of tinkling water continued. Both had big grins on their faces as she finally stopped. Then she reached and pulled off some sheets of toilet paper, and slowly, deliberately, wiped her pink pussy lips.

Art stood up and took her hands, pulling her up with him. He then reached and pushed the toilet seat down. Turning her, he moved and sat down. Grabbing her hips, he moved her so she was straddling him. She understood their silent language, and spread her legs, positioning herself over the bulbous head of his cock. With one hand keeping her dress up around her waist, the other on Art's shoulder, she steadied herself, and perfectly lowered her wet opening onto his cock.

It was like an electric shock hit when Art's swollen penis slipped into Amy's opening. Both of them had a look of shock, pleasure, and lust all rolled into one. Amy's arms wrapped around Art's neck as she buried her head into his shoulder, and began to make small whimpering sounds. Their bodies began humping against each other like some perverted mating ritual. There was no slow and easy, but only an urgent need to release the tensions that had been building. It didn't take long.

Art had no control of his body at this point, and was pushing he thick cock into Amy's opening as hard and deep as it would go. He found a wanting woman, with inner muscles that felt like they were pumping his cock with each thrust. When he climaxed, his release was almost an attack, as his sperm pumped repeatedly into Amy's warm, contracting pussy.

They both tried to stifle the sounds coming from each of them, and Amy's screams of release we muffled, as she kept her head tightly buried in Art's shoulder. After a few seconds, that seemed like minutes, they both pulled back and broke out in smiles.

"God lord, what was that?" Amy whispered into Art's ear.

"I think they call it fucking," he whispered back. She hit him on the shoulder with her hand and giggled.

Both quickly pulled their clothes together, and tried to look normal as they left the bathroom. They both were wondering what Bill and June would have to say after such a long bathroom break together.

They found June asleep on the couch. Apparently, she didn't have the constitution for that much tequila, and Bill was eating ice cream out of a gallon container in the kitchen. He was very drunk. "Hey guys!" he yelled. "Want some ice cream?"

"No thanks Bill. I'm going to drive Amy home before I get to where I can't see." Amy just giggled under her breath.

"OK guys, stay safe," Bill slurred, with a spoon of ice cream in his mouth. Apparently, their escapade had gone unnoticed. They both laughed all the way to Amy's apartment.

______

Amy's lived near the foothills in the valley, and the drive was uneventful. Both seemed relieved when they got into her parking lot. Amy lived in one of those older, small Southern California stucco apartment buildings. It had about ten or twelve units, like many of the old 1930's style apartments all over the San Fernando Valley. The sun was setting as they made their way up the stairs, holding hands like a couple of kids coming back from seeing a movie. Their adventure earlier had left them both a bit giddy, as well as still slightly aroused, as each was replaying it all in their minds.

As the entered the apartment, Amy turned and threw her arms around Art's neck, and literally jumped into his arms. He quickly grabbed her tight little ass as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He had no trouble holding her like this as they began to kiss. It was almost a duel between their tongues, with no looser. Only winners in this duel.

With Amy wrapped tightly around Art's waist, she continued to kiss him all over his face as he gently scooted toward her bedroom. There he gently set her down next to the bed. They both came up for air.

It was a nice little bedroom with a spacious double bed, a dresser, a small night stands next to the bed, and a large, free-standing, full-length mirror next to the closet.

"You are a bad, bad girl," Art playfully scolded.

"Well, you're a nasty boy. Taking advantage of sweet girl like me," she replied, while trying to look stern.

Art gently pushed Amy toward the center of the room and sat down on the bed. "A bad girl like you needs to be taught a lesson," Art said in a playful, but commanding voice.

Amy stamped her foot like a little girl, and yelled back, "I am not. I am not a bad girl. You made me do things."

"Well, then I am going to make you do one more thing."

Amy had a quizzical look on her face, and tried to hold back a faint smile. "You can't make me," she said while folding her arms across her boobs.

"Yes, I can. Take off that dress. Do it now," Art commanded. It was becoming apparent Amy liked to play games as she hugged her arms tighter around her bosom, and shook her head back and forth.

"No. I'll be naked. That's nasty. I'm a good girl!"

With that comment, Art jumped up from the bed, grabbed Amy by the shoulders, and spun her around. He moved so they were facing the big full-length mirror. He held her arms to her side, and pulled her back against his chest. This made him look even bigger compared to Amy's short height. It also had the effect of pushing Amy's ample chest forward in a very lewd way.

Art whispered into her ear, "Then I will remove your dress myself. I am going to strip you. Strip you completely naked."

He felt Amy's breathing quicken as let go of her arms. He moved his hands to buttons of her dress that were still fastened. He carefully began to unbutton her. All the while staring at Amy in the mirror.

Slowly, methodically, he moved from one button to the next. With each release a bit more of Amy was exposed. It was all he could do to keep from just jerking it off her completely, but this process raised the sexual tension to a breaking point. He was surprised his cock was coming back to life so quickly after their bathroom play.