Business Strip

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Gabriella Clarke travels interstate on business.
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OzmanA
OzmanA
82 Followers

On being elevated to the position of personal assistant to the CEO, I was well aware that my looks and manner were as big a factor in my selection as my other skills. I'd only returned to the workforce about six years earlier, having honed my computer skills and administrative knowledge during my time as a mother and homemaker, keen to resume the career which I'd voluntarily postponed in favour of motherhood.

By virtue of little things like having a nose job, collagen injections in my lips and my matronly bosom surgically restored, as well as kilometres of running, I looked pretty good for forty-plus years. I wasn't at all averse to using my femininity to advance my career, although I'd have drawn a line at screwing for promotion, if I'd been asked. Fortunately, I never was.

On my very first interstate trip with my boss I was propositioned several times by a rather guileless executive named Roger Hulme. Although I liked a laugh, he had a good sense of humour and I found him attractive, my convent instilled moral attitudes and innate reserve kept me faithful to Ned for the first few trips away.

One night a group of us went out to a night club where, in addition to the cabaret act, there was a sex act as well. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw what was going on, a normal looking woman I'd seen earlier was in some kind of studio dressed in an erotic costume and doing a striptease while an intimate camera conveyed her every move to us via a large video screen. She was quite uninhibited and, after showing us it all in her dance, she sucked off a nude man before shagging him with apparent enjoyment. I was surprised at how quickly the guy recovered and was ready to fuck again, but there was a trick, I discovered later. I was fascinated at their efforts, cringing at the thought of my own body being scrutinized in that manner, but feeling an increasing randiness as I watched them shagging so enthusiastically. Their sex was more a show than two people fucking for pleasure, getting into very difficult positions to give us a better view of his thick prick sliding in and out of her hairless snatch. This continued until four couples alone and then a hot foursome had done their thing.

We were all from different firms, but there seemed to be a fair degree of familiarity among the group with several of the guys daring some women to a session in the studio with them. There were a lot of blushing refusals with one woman saying that none of the guys would be able to keep it up if there was an audience, so she wasn't going to risk embarrassment by trying to get a limp dick up, and failing.

I was aghast; naively thinking that their objections were morally based, not due to a potential lack of performance from a casual partner. Although I was aware that there was some sexual misconduct among my peers during the course of a trip, I really didn't think it was that blatant.

"I'd never let you down like that, Marcie," grinned the guy. "I've taken medication to be sure. Now I've got a horn on that a mad dog couldn't chew through in a week."

"Let me see," she frowned and Denis moved to sit next to her and open his flies. "Well it's definitely harder than I remember Terri telling me."

"So?"

"So, I'll do a foursome," she told the table, about a dozen of us.

The others, including me, hmm-ed and hah-ed and seemed more than a little self-conscious at the prospect of being asked directly to participate in an adulterous sexual display so publically. Roger looked at me with an eyebrow raised in query as I glanced back through slitted lids to register absolute refusal combined with contempt. He got the message and offered his body to the blushing Alison who eventually caved in to great pressure and agreed to partner Bryce with Marcie and Denis.

Ten minutes later Ali and Marcie appeared on screen dressed in thigh-high boots with impossibly tall heels and skimpy, sequined bikini costumes while they danced to muffled music. They looked coy as they unfastened the others' garb, prancing about with their big, silicone filled breasts bobbing up and down in time to the beat.

The guys then appeared wearing loincloths which their rock hard erections held up above the horizontal.

"Jeez, Bryce's nicely hung," breathed Helen in wonder. "I'll have to be a lot nicer to him in future."

"Yeah," agreed Manda. "Gena says he knows what he's doing in bed too. I'm looking forward to trying him out."

I asked Helen about sex within the group as it seemed to be a fairly easy matter between them. The rules were, she told me, that anybody could ask to have sex with anyone in the group without it being seen as demeaning to the member asked. There were about thirty people of our age and position cohort who came together in different mixes on these trips. That particular group hadn't been together before, except for Ali, Marcie and Roger, so there had been no sexual contact, although the gossip informed everyone as to who had done what with whom, their pluses and minuses in relation to sex.

The women on screen sucked off the men, then changed partners to get them fully erect again, straddling their supine bodies to achieve penetration in squatting position. They continually swapped partners until they all came pretty well simultaneously and the screen faded to black, leaving me wanting to stick my hand down my knickers and play with myself.

When the fornicating foursome returned to our table, in their street gear, they were still blushing, but clearly pleased with themselves at having had an experience that very few other women would have attempted.

"Are you the first to do that, out of our mob I mean," Helen asked of Ali and Marcie.

"No," Denis informed her. "Rose Pelligrine and Penne Dawe have definitely done it, with Baz and Paul, but I also heard that Darla Shea and Corine Day have put on a show with two guys I don't know."

"Yeah," agreed Ali. "That's true, it happened, I'm reliably informed."

Nobody else was up to it that night and so we all took taxis back to our various hotels where I got out at the same level as Rod Tranter from across the country which made me feel much safer in accepting his offer of a night cap in his suite.

"So what did you think about Marcie and Ali's performance?" he asked me.

"Very daring," I replied.

"Does that mean we could see you giving it a try in the future?"

"Not really," I blushed. "I have a very low threshold of embarrassment. I could no sooner have sex in public than fly unaided to the moon."

"How are you at sex in private then?" he grinned amiably.

"I understand what you're asking, but I should tell you I've led a wholly blameless life and have never cheated on Ned."

"So he keeps you completely satisfied?"

"No, not really," I mumbled, flushing deeply. "I don't get enough love or sex."

"There's a difference?"

"Of course. Sometimes I just need a quick nooky, even a bit rough on the odd occasion. Others I like to be wooed slowly with real love. Ned's pretty good at that, but not with the more recreational stuff."

"You talked about swinging?"

"He's mentioned it, but I just couldn't come at that."

"And you've never considered casual sex or an affair."

"Oh, I've thought about both, but I've seen the disastrous results of an ongoing affair. On the other hand, just having casual sex seems so slutty."

"Have you never fantasized over being really slutty. Every other woman I've asked has admitted to enjoying the thought, some going on to realize their fantasies, like tonight. Those two didn't just make up their mind to try it tonight; they first went there nearly a year ago and it was Ali who suggested that we go there tonight."

"So, how many of those girls have you had it off with?"

"Only Marcie, Ali, Helen and June. It's expected now; there was a time in recent past when the blokes went out to drink and the women did whatever it was women do away from home. Suddenly they decided that it was all too boring, we blokes were boring, indicating that normally untoward suggestions would be considered in a more tolerant light by them in future. With others, I've asked a lady who appealed to me whether she'd care to join me in a nightcap in my room. She agreed and we spent most of the night together, the rule is that they don't stay all night."

"Have you done the closed circuit TV thing?"

He nodded. "With Tori Donaldson...at her instigation. She made me take an aphrodisiac of some sort, viagra or something. I was horny for hours afterwards."

I giggled.

"Fortunately I was invited in by Sally Seaward and Melissa Doyle, after I got back to the hotel, and we were at it 'til the early hours. They kept on about that old "sex pills" joke and I was at considerably less than my best during the next day. Mind you, I'd be persuaded to try it again. I took my wife away for a weekend recently and, despite being completely shagged for the entire following week, gave her a fierce time by dropping only a couple of pills."

"Does she know you play up away from home?"

"Yeah. After our dirty weekend she cried and apologized for being naughty with a couple of other blokes while I was away. I also confessed to my sins in the area of sex and we had a great chuckle, reaffirmed our love for each other and got drunk."

"So did you promise to be faithful from now on?" I enquired.

"Au contraire," he smiled. "We realized that knowing the other was having sex elsewhere hadn't made either of us jealous and gave carte blanche for a casual nookie as the opportunity arose. I do want to share a swing with her as a matter of priority; I'm dying to see her at it with another guy."

"Yeah," I told him quietly. "Ned's sort of suggested that he'd like me to do that while he watched. It must be a blokey thing; I don't have any great desire to watch him shagging another woman."

"I guess," he grinned. "But Sal and Mel were fascinated at my dick moving in and out of the other's pussy, up close too."

"Ooh, you mean gynaecologically close?" I gasped. "I can't really imagine that being a particularly pretty sight."

"It is to blokes," he grinned. "A woman who lets a guy look at her snatch is hungry for something to fill it, in my experience."

"That sort of woman would," I said without thinking about it. "I've never displayed myself like that."

"Not even to Ned?"

"Especially to Ned, it's just too tarty. It shows a lack of self-respect. I can't believe a guy feels anything positive about any woman who does that sort of thing, or vice versa."

"Well, I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he chuckled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's take a good, long look at each other's wedding tackle and see how it affects us."

"It'll make me feel ill, that's about all."

"Try it."

"I don't need to."

"Go on."

"No."

"I'll take mine off first. Okay?"

"It's your place."

I watched as he unhurriedly stripped to reveal a healthy, upwardly curved member of about eighteen centimetres and an all over tan, stepping close to me as I sat at the edge of his bed.

"Looks good enough to eat, doesn't it?" he murmured huskily.

I didn't respond immediately, but then reached out to grasp his buttocks and pull his shiny red knob to my face where I poked out my tongue to touch its small, slit eye and cause him to jerk and moan softly. I opened my lips and he pushed his hips forward to force his prick into my mouth and deep in my throat before I slowly nodded to orally stimulate him, shedding my upper garments as I did, diddling my wet snatch while he fondled my bare breasts.

"Oh, oooooh, ooooh!" he groaned as he spoofed copiously into my mouth.

I was so disappointed at his coming that I was angry. Having decided I'd give him what he wanted I thought I at least deserved to be serviced in the fullest way possible.

"Hey," he said as I gathered my things together. "There's more yet."

I let him push me back on the bed and pull down my pantyhose before applying his mouth to my moist quim, delving deep with his tongue and pulling it out to diddle my swollen clitty. I was transported, feeling erotic thrills that seemed new to me in their intensity, shamelessly pulling his face hard against my lewdly exposed crotch. I felt the tingling genesis of my orgasm in my straining loins and, just before I let go, he rose to his knees and shuffled forward over me to roughly insert a surprisingly hard and hot cock into my hungry quim. Ooooh God, it felt so good just then, but I started to come right at that moment and, while I was just aware of his strenuous pelvic pumping, I was focused on my own convulsive pleasures.

We had another drink on returning to our senses, Rod overtly admiring my lower regions in claiming to be a buttocks and hip man. No lady likes it to known that her lower measurement is one hundred plus, even as tall as I am, but I wasn't feeling particularly ladylike at that juncture, posing for him nude, hands on hips, telling him I was one-oh-three. He quickly became hard and horny again and I perched astride his hips in a wild, sexual rodeo ride without restraint or inhibition.

Finally we were satisfied after another, early hours fuck following which I dressed and sneaked unobserved back to my suite to sleep.

*

My night with Rod was the first of many with almost as many different men of my acquaintance, although, to be completely truthful, I was abed with an attractive guy I'd just met on more than one occasion. In such surprisingly little time I found myself categorised with the ladies of easy virtue within our larger group of business types; a matter which initially caused me a degree of consternation, but then a goodly amount of pride and satisfaction at knowing I had another string to my bow in the corporate game, giving me the edge on my more moral colleagues. I found I liked the feeling of being and being seen as something of a slut; remembering my private sense of envy of those of my peers who'd dared to enjoy sex as teenagers and the publicly expressed outrage of the rest at both the rumours and their lack of remorse.

I also gave Roger Hulme what he most wanted from me, regularly as things transpired, making me regret not having tried sex with him a little earlier as he was very skilled at it and often gave me unbelievably intense orgasms to top off thrilling bouts of love. We were completely open with each other about our intimate likes and dislikes, more than we could ever be with our spouses, growing closer every time we came together. While I wasn't in love with him I did need to be with him at least as often as I was with my Neddy.

One evening I found Roger at an hotel lounge looking uncharacteristically morose.

"Why the long face?" I inquired.

"No money, no funny," he told me without smiling.

"For whom?"

"For Mr Kawasaki," he frowned. "The boss gave me the job of providing our prospective customer with after-dinner entertainment, but I don't have the readies and none of the blokes is prepared to lend me two thousand."

"How about your boss?"

"He's with Kawasaki and I can't disturb him. Anyway, I suspect that he is testing me; you know, initiative, loyalty to the firm, all that stuff."

"What a bastard," I said thoughtfully. "I don't have that sort of cash or even card credit, but you say there's two thousand on offer? What does one have to do to earn that?"

He looked at me, frowning uncertainly.

"Spend two hours with a guy and do whatever he wants of you."

"Is that all?"

"Well it is whoring."

"Seems like an easy way to earn all that cash."

"You really have changed, since we first met I mean."

"In what way?" I enquired with feigned innocence.

"You're so free and easy now," he told me, obviously uncomfortable in not knowing whether my remark indicated my accepting the role of stand in whore or whether I was only conceptually interested, but not daring to press me.

"Who's the most free and easy in the group, do you think?" I asked of him, putting him on the spot.

"That's a loaded question," he blanched. "Whatever I answer I could be in the shit."

"You're scared to tell a girl she's not the biggest slut in the group, or vice versa?"

"You've got it in one."

"Go on, be brave and honest."

"Well," he said slowly, "I think it would have to be Corrine, she's done the whole gamut from the cabaret fuck to company whore and more guys than I can count. On top of that she's into swinging with her husband so I suppose there's a fair chance that she's a true nympho."

"Nah," I demurred. "She likes her nooky too much. Nymphos don't you know, they hate it. It's just a compulsion to them."

"I'd ask if she were here, but she's not," he told me, fishing for a firm answer about my intentions.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Roger dear," I reassured him. "I'll be your prozzie for the night, or for however long I'm needed, but it's not a freebee, I want the dough."

It wasn't that I needed the money, or even really wanted it that badly. I was going whoring for the first, and in all probability, the last time so I needed the payment to know I'd done things properly.

"I'll get it for you, I promise," he swore and I went to shower and dress more appropriately for the task ahead.

Later, as I tapped upon the appointed hotel door, I suddenly thought of a very conventional man, a dentist, in a city far away and wondered about his reaction if he knew that his wife was about to sell her body that evening. I was sure that such a thought would never have entered his mind; dentists are the most unadventurous of men, the idea of promiscuously adulterous sex being beyond their horizons.

Mr Kawasaki was a courteous older man with limited English, but he knew a few necessary words like sex and fuck, so we quickly had things straight as to what his requirements were. He was wearing a white, towelling bath-robe, smelled pleasantly of cologne and wanted me out of my clothing in a hurry. I shed my frock, I had no underclothing, kicked off my shoes and lay on the huge bed to display my physical charms, his eyes quickly fixing on my bald vulva.

He dropped his robe to reveal the smallest dick I'd ever seen, it was not just short, but thin too, about half the size of a standard penis. However, when he moved over me in the missionary style and inserted it into my cunt, it just felt the same as any other cock. Size, I discovered, doesn't matter at all.

He thrust his hips vigourously to my open crotch to a rhythmic slapping, pumping my pussy with his hot little prick while I tried to meet him by lifting my bottom in time.

"Aaaaah, aaaaah, aaaah," he gasped, then plunged his dick hard into me as his whole body became rigid and shook with ecstatic spasms of climax.

I hadn't come as he rolled off me and I diddled myself until he took over and brought me to a very satisfying orgasm with his expert digit. This made me feel a degree of affection towards him and I kissed him on the mouth to indicate my

gratitude.

We had drinks and he got horny again, he was fascinated by the size of my boobs and had to squeeze, fondle and suck my nipples, before we had another bout of nooky. This time I came, a glorious orgasm which he took the trouble to ensure as a clever and skilled lover.

We went well over the two hours of my engagement, but I didn't care for I had actually enjoyed myself despite my earlier doubts over how a paid sexual job would play out for a woman. I saw him another time, along with some of his colleagues to whom he'd referred me, when circumstances allowed. Not all provided quality sex, but the money made up for that.

OzmanA
OzmanA
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26thNC26thNCover 3 years ago

Finally, a real whore and cheating too.

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago

Stories "Business Strip" and "thankyou Nurse" are two sides of the same coin - Ned and Gaby are married to each other

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago
Yes, we all devolve from stand-up citizens.....

......to raging whores and biters when on company travel.

The boys all want nookie and the girls are all cock hounds as soon as they walk out the front door.

The result, of course, is a world full of mutually satisfying sexual adventures in every town with more than two hotels and a decent bar. And, equally certain, their mates are off rubbing clits and dipping wicks with more local fare during all of the out of town festivities......all in the name of fending off boredom.

I'm also sure they all remain happily married and even more committed for the broadening experiences, their lives finally devoid of boredom.

In your world, I should think corporate turnover would be exceptionally high, due to the outrageously high incidence of fatal cases of Syphilis, Ghonorrea, AIDS and the rest of the long list of venereal diseases that accompany indiscriminate and profligate sexual encounters of the varietous kind.

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago

What a slit and Her poor unsuspecting hubby unknowingly is being humiliated by his wife and her colleagues. Hope he finds out and sues the company and everyone involved

impo_60impo_60over 9 years ago
From a loyal wife to a whore...

She went from a loyal wife to a whore...But she could behave like she wants, but telling her lover about her husband: "No, not really," I mumbled, flushing deeply. "I don't get enough love or sex."...That's is worst than cheating...Why? because she simply could have the divorce...She wasn't forced to stay married...then she could be free to be a Corporate whore...She really deserved to get a serious STD disease that would kill her...

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