Bean Counter Ch. 11


It was a quickie, but a very intense, very fulfilling quickie. I pounded her ample ass to two toe-curling orgasms before I dumped my seed inside her, holding up her thousand-dollar gown over her hips and driving her to ecstasy.

"You're a fucking god," she said, when I finally withdrew my softening prick and let the hem of her dress fall back into place. "A fucking god. That was incredible. Anna suggested you might be."

"Well, I'd hate to get a bad reputation," I said, demurely, as I put my cock away. "I'm going through a separation right now. Not quite on the market yet, so . . ."

"I understand," she agreed, snapping open her cigarette pack and offering me one. This time I took it. She put herself back together in impressively quick order, and we were walking back towards the main hall in no time, smokes in hand.

Along the way we passed one of the kitchen entrances, where I spied a few of the staff taking a break – Mary among them. She caught my eye, saw the lit cigarette in my hand, and immediately knew what had just happened. She glowered at me, and for the barest instant I felt horrendously guilty.

But then I thought about the sight of Tim stretching her asshole while she carried his bastard baby, and suddenly the sting of guilt didn't seem so bad any more. I shot her a big goofy grin and kept walking.

Angelica clued me in to where a small, somewhat remote men's room was located so I could put myself back together, too. I took the chance to thoroughly wipe down my cock, trying my best to remove all of the evidence of his recent side-trip, before I combed my hair, popped a Viagra, and returned to the party.

Apparently I had been missed. I was booked solid for the next hour, dancing with what felt like every woman in the room. When the band took a break, I needed one, too, and headed back towards the men's room. That's where Mary pounced on me.

"Thanks," she muttered. "For standing up for me with Anna, I mean. That was pretty brutal, and you could have made it worse, but you didn't. I appreciate that."

"Not a problem," I said, casually. "You have to make a living, after all. No one should fault you for that, especially a stuck-up bitch like Anna."

She smiled appreciatively. "Yeah, you're right. Um . . . saw you with that . . . lady, earlier. Have a good time?" She tried to pretend like it didn't bother her, but I could almost see the jealousy eating away at her inside.

"Oh, yeah," I admitted. "She's a great kisser. Um, say, maybe before we go, you could . . . drop a bean in the piggy?"

Her eyes grew wide. "What, here? You want me to get fired?"

I shrugged. "It's a one-time gig. They won't fire you. I'll make sure of it."

"I don't know, Bill . . ." she said, looking around to see if anyone could see or overhear us. I moved in quickly and pinned her suddenly against the wall.

"Tell me your panties aren't soaked at the thought," I whispered in her ear. "The excitement of doing it here . . . so forbidden . . . you know you want to . . ."

I could see her waver, her eyes getting bigger. She almost nodded, then stopped and tried pushing me away. "I can't. Don't be silly. I'm fine."

"Your soaked – admit it," I taunted.

"Am not!" she insisted, putting up a token struggle. I wasted no time and slipped my hand down her pants and into her panties. I didn't even need to penetrate her – there was a big wet spot there.

"Liar," I whispered, and found her clit through her forest of pubic hair. That made her nearly swoon. "Your pussy is drenched."

"Okay," she finally said, her knees starting to buckle. "If I survive tonight, and you're still here, I'll suck you off . . . for two beans," she wheedled.

"Done," I said, withdrawing my fingers form her neglected pussy. She moaned.

"I'd better get back to work," she said with a frustrated sigh, and left with a searching backwards glance. Oh, this was turning into a lovely evening.

"Bill!" I was hailed when I returned. To my surprise it was the lithe, blonde Amy Hardee, who I knew only in passing – but who was definitely on Anna's list of easy women. I tried to recall her specifics while she greeted me and we made small talk. Then I remembered.

"So I hear you and your wife split?" she asked, innocently. "I hope that didn't go poorly."

"Oh yeah, real poorly," I admitted. "But I hide it well."

"Divorce is a bitch," she agreed, fervently. "So where are you headed? Back to the dance floor?"

"No, actually," I said, nonchalantly. "I was going to invite you out to my car for a moment."

She looked skeptical. "To smoke a joint? Really, I haven't—"

"No," I interrupted. "To see my etchings." It took a few moments – she was drunk and not that bright to begin with – but she did catch on. She gave me a good once-over then grinned.

"Let me just get my purse," she said, and we were off to the parking lot.

Amy wasn't real bright, it was true, but she oozed sex appeal out of every pore and looked incredible in the cream-and-red satin gown she was wearing. She was the very picture of the jaded trophy wife, but she followed me out to my car like a puppy and slid in to the passenger seat when I opened the door.

"So, you're quite the dancer," she said, as I turned on some music. "I really enjoyed that."

"Me, too," I said, suavely. OK, I was far too eager to be suave – the Viagra had kicked in, hard.

"I especially liked the part where you rammed your stiffy into my belly over and over," she said, amused. "I was starting to think you were trying to get my attention."

"I think it worked," I agreed. "Sorry, but I was inspired. Anna has told me so much about you—"

"About what a slut for cock I am?" she supplied. I started to protest, but she waved me off. "I'm not offended – and Anna's one to talk. Sure, I like cock. I've put up with two old wrinkly men, now, and they just aren't enough for me. Thank God my husband likes to ski, or I'd never get my goodies."

"Mr. Hardee isn't . . . fulfilling?" I asked, toying with her hair.

"He barely touches both sides. On the other hand, he eats pussy like a prison dyke with a life sentence, so we get along. Me, I'm a cock connoisseur. I like to suck the juice out. Love it, actually. Have since . . . well, I was young. So I am particularly interested in what's hiding under that zipper," she said, nodding towards my crotch. I leaned back and presented it.

"Go ahead," I urged. "Find out."

"I can count on you to be discreet?" she asked as she reached for my fly.

"Absolutely," I assured as her hand buried itself in my boxers and fished my dick into view.

"Good," she said, her breathing changed. "Because I can tell I might want seconds on this one." With that she lowered her head and took my rising prick between her lips.

Now, I've had a lot of recent experience with fellatio, from Susan's grateful head to Anna's wish fulfillment blowjobs to Mary's assortment of techniques. This was the first time that I realized my cock was auditioning, though. Amy sucked like she was exploring new frontiers, and she enjoyed every moment of it. I suppose fellatio is a trophy-wife's stock-in-trade, so I shouldn't have been surprised by her skill.

She used a gently, insistently probing tongue to explore every millimeter of my cock head, while her lips provided a light, gentle suction. She kept making appreciative moaning noises in her throat which increased in both volume and intensity as she sucked. She left my balls alone, and didn't even jack me off. And after a few moments of this, she came up for a breath.

"Smells like someone's been naughty once already tonight," she commented, playing with the tip of my cock with her fingers. "Any bitch I know?"

"Probably," I said. "I don't like to kiss and tell, though."

"Oh, I don't gossip," she insisted. "Just wanted to know which slut's juices I was smelling."

"Well," I said, reluctantly, "I believe the lady in question was wearing purple."

"Angelica! That filthy whore!" she cackled. "You got started early tonight, didn't you?"

"Are all these Country Club affairs like this?" I asked as she stroked me. "I might have to consider a membership."

"Pretty much," she agreed. "When the husbands do bother to attend, they sit in the bar and talk shop or sports while us gals talk trash and sneak out to fuck each other's husbands or the tennis pro or the kitchen help. Or sometimes each other, if you're into that sort of thing."

"I had no idea," I said, amused. She smiled and went back to work. In a few more minutes of intense oral pleasure, she took me close to the edge and then backed off for another breather.

"I'm getting pretty close," I cautioned as I calmed down. "Any preference to where . . .?"

"Oh, I swallow," she assured. "Not much point in doing it if you don't. Anna told me about your . . . situation. I'm so sorry – I kind of feel like I'm doing a public service, here."

"And your generosity is appreciated more than you know," I said, gratefully. "Suck that thing!"

She grinned and went back for the home stretch. She really outdid herself, too, pushing down until her nose was deep into my pubic hair. Oh, my. Then she started long, slow strokes, starting at the top and moving firmly to the base, her tongue stroking happily all the way. Every time the back of her pretty little head plunged down into my lap, I was a step closer to heaven. When I got closer I didn't even bother to warn her. She was a pro – she knew it was coming. And she took every drop. I don't mean she reluctantly swallowed it, I mean she eagerly gulped it down like it was the antidote and kept licking at the head to encourage my blissful willy to spit up a little more.

"Yeah," she said after she reluctantly released me, "I want your number. Definitely gonna need a second helping of that. Tasty!"

Weak-kneed and light headed, I went back inside a few minutes after she did, stopping only to bum a smoke from Todd outside. Two in one night – that was unusual for me. Or it used to be. As I puffed and made small talk about the lighter side of heavy construction equipment, Mary walked by, saw the cigarette, knew what it meant, blushed furiously and pushed her cart full of other people's dirty dishes back into the kitchen. We had missed the start of dinner, so I grabbed a seat next to Anna (I was her date, after all) and had a great time chatting with a bunch of rich folks. I think I even pulled a small client from that, some woman whose husband had bought her a florist shop. Me, I would have just bought flowers, but . . .

Anna tagged me for a dance, so I gave her three in gratitude. As we moved into a slow rhumba I ground my hips against hers, earning a raised eyebrow.

"Goodness," she said. "By now I figured he'd be worn out."

"He's rather resilient. And having quite a good time, thanks to you."


"Victoria and Amy. So far."

"Well, he hasn't even begun to enjoy himself yet, then," she said, her eyes narrowing. "I haven't had a shot. Does he still have anything left?"

"I think I could rise to the occasion a couple more times," I ventured. "I did take a pill."

"Better loving through chemistry. And to think they told us to 'just say no'. Did Mary see you, I wonder?"

"Most definitely," I said with a smile. "She may have dumped my ass, but she's still insanely jealous – which makes this all the more fun."

"Too bad you couldn't get her, too," Anna mused. That idle comment set some wheels in motion in my head.

"I bet I could," I said, cautiously. "Oh, I probably couldn't get her to fuck me, but . . . I bet you I could get a blowjob out of her."

"Oh, that would be rich!" Anna giggled. "But somehow I don't think she would go for it. I'm sure she wouldn't."

"You sure enough to bet your ass?" I asked, cagily.

"What? Oh, you want my backdoor?" she inquired, gamely.

"Just to make things interesting," I said, turning her into a dip that I made look effortless. She was impressed, and when I returned her to her full upright and locked position she was breathing hard.

"I don't usually go that way," she said, slowly. "I'm no butt-virgin, of course – I married a Jew, after all – but usually the big black studs I seek are too well endowed for me to consider it."

"Perhaps my cock is small enough?" I can't believe I said it.

"You know, it might just be," she agreed. "Okay, mister, here's the wager: I see Mary on her knees hoovering your hog before we go, I'll get your little soldier up and you can bury him in my tight . . . hot . . . little . . . asshole," she finished in a whisper.

"And if I can't?" I asked. "What do you get?"

She considered, then came up with something. "You have to fuck me . . . and my friend Diane."

"At the same time?"

"Maybe. She's been down that road, I believe, and I wouldn't mind. But mostly I want you to fuck Diane because she's an anti-social bitch who hasn't had a dick in her in ages. She's attractive . . . in a kind of prison warden way, I guess. But she's constantly bugging me to set her up with someone. You don't get it from Mary, you have to be Diane's monkey boy for an evening."

"Done," I said, instantly. Anna smiled.

"I had no idea you were this much fun!"

"Mary didn't exactly challenge me," I admitted. "I've got several years of pent up marital sexual frustration to work out. Don't worry, I know how to punch her buttons, divorce or no divorce."

We finished the set, and I got another drink. On the way I caught Mary's eye – she was on glass-retrieval duty – and nodded towards the bathroom alcove we had last spoken in.

"It's getting late," I said, quietly. "When's your break?"

"Anytime," she admitted. "Bill, are you sure that this is a good idea?"

"Yes," I insisted. "Two beans, remember?"

She considered it, biting her lip nervously. Finally she sighed. I could tell by the look in her eyes she was excited, but didn't want to admit it. "All right. Where?"

I told her how to find the secluded little park area outside, in the back, where I had fucked Angelica. Most of the exterior lights had already been turned off – it was creeping towards midnight – and I gave her fifteen minutes to find her way out there. She blushed, nodded, and brushed up against me on her way back to work. She smelled like mashed potatoes, stale champagne, and Prell.

"I'm meeting her in ten minutes in the amphitheater," I whispered to Anna. "If you want to watch, get out there soon and conceal yourself. You blow it for me," I warned, "I win and take your ass."

"You are good," she agreed, and disappeared. I killed some time at the dessert table ad then made my way outside to the arbor. If Anna was out there, she hid well enough that I couldn't tell.

Before too long Mary stumbled through the darkness – almost into the fishpond – and eventually found her way to the alcove. She surprised the hell out of me by actually kissing me, with a degree of passion I hadn't experienced for years, right on the lips.

"Whoa!" I breathed, after she broke it. "What was that for?"

"Just felt like it," she said in a wavering voice, her eyes flashing in the darkness. "You looked so handsome dancing out there . . . it reminded me of our wedding." Ouch. I had expected reluctant bitterness, not tenderness and nostalgia. My heart almost melted on the spot – until Mary, without any further preamble, sunk to her knees in front of me and started for my fly with eager hands. "Now let me at that thick cock!" she said with anticipation.

"You seem a little more . . . enthusiastic than I expected," I said, hesitantly.

"I've been getting hit on by every Mexican busboy in the kitchen, watched you dance, my feet hurt and my hormones are surging," she said, with a giggle. "You were right, earlier. I was soaked the moment I saw you. And once you put your finger on my clit, well . . . I've been looking forward to this ever since." With that my dick flopped out, growing rapidly. She sucked in a breath at the sight of it, then gave a soft moan as she began to rub it around her face. I reached back and pulled her hair-clip off, letting her dark hair down, and scratched her head like a dog while she nuzzled into my crotch.

I moaned myself when I felt her tongue peek out and lick a dollop of pre-seminal fluid off of the head. She looked up with a shy smile I could only barely see in the gloom. "I was envious to watch you dance with all of those women," she admitted softly. "And when I saw you leave with that woman, and come back with a cigarette in your hand, well, I got crazy jealous."

"Well within the rules," I protested. "We're split, remember? Free agents?"

"Yeah, I know," she agreed, stroking me firmly. "I know that. I'm just letting you know. Was she a good kisser?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Among other things," I said, taking the back of her head in my hand and pushing her face into my groin. "I believe we had a deal . . ."

She was startled by the sudden move, but quickly captured my dick between her lips and started sucking, passionately. I groaned more loudly and let her play, but kept my hand on the back of her head. That came in handy a moment later when she took enough of me into her mouth to get her nose close to my pubes. Then she suddenly recoiled and tried to back off – my hand wouldn't let her. I kept her stroking me with her mouth for a good five minutes, despite her struggle to stop. When I finally relented and let her come up for air she looked at me accusingly.

"I smell someone's cunt on you!" She hated the 'c-word', and her using it not only told me how upset she was, it also made my dick that much harder.

"Do you? So sorry," I said with mock sympathy, and pulled her back on my cock. She struggled a bit again, and let out a muffled moan of protest, but that just enflamed me further. I pushed to the back of her throat and really tried to bury her nose in my pubic hair. Then I started trash talking.

"Smell it? Another woman's pussy. Not yours, another woman. I fucked her, right here on this very spot. I pushed up her skirt and fucked her doggy-style. She loved this dick. It used to be yours, but this dick doesn't belong to you anymore, remember? You gave it up, didn't you? Didn't want it any more. Well there are plenty that do, and I'm going to take full advantage of it. Her pussy was hot and wet and I fucked the shit out of it, really rang her bell -- twice. She got it all slick and wet with her juice – that's what you're tasting, another woman's cunt. And another woman's spit, too. Everyone wants this cock – everyone but my wife. But you, you HAVE to suck it, don't you? It's your duty. Your fucking job . . ."

As I spoke, in a whisper just loud enough for her to hear, she sucked passionately, with great excitement. She still made noises that told me I was humiliating her, that she didn't consciously want to suck another woman's pussy off of me, but the hand that was buried in her tuxedo pants playing with her pussy while she was "forced" to suck me told me that she wasn't that unhappy with it. Her other hand stroked my shaft furiously while I held her head and fucked her lips. She looked up at me at one point while I was speaking to her, her eyes moist with tears and ablaze with lust. She was eating this up – literally. She was getting off on the degradation, the forbidden nature of the act. I looked back at her, deep into her eyes, and used her mouth for my decadent pleasure.

As I approached my climax Mary went over the edge herself, which was glorious – my cock kept moving, her mouth kept moving, but the control she had used on me was utterly gone. I fucked her face while it was otherwise occupied with expressing the power of her own orgasm, always a great feeling. I had almost forgotten that Anna was out here, too, somewhere . . .

I had only a second or two of warning, a few soft sounds of a very expensive shoe scraping across a slate walkway, maybe the rustle of a stray leaf – and then voices.

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