Competitive To The End

"I haven't seen you before; do you go to OSU?" I asked.

"No, I'm visiting my parents for the weekend -- they live in Columbus -- and I got bored and came to this event; I'm glad that I did -- it really opened my eyes," he chuckled.

"What's your name?"

"Derek Salter; and I hope that Alicia Rankin isn't just your stage name," he chuckled again.

"I don't have a stage name," I laughed. "That was my first and last public performance; however, if you were to get a room at the Blackwell Inn," a really nice hotel essentially right on campus "I might be up for a private performance."

Derek's eyes got as big as baseballs. After a short pause he asked "How do we get there?"

It probably wasn't more than twenty minutes later before we were in a hotel room and despite the lack of music I was stripping again. This time it took less time because I was anxious and had no bra or panties on. Once I was naked Derek took me into his arms and gave me the most passionate kiss I had ever received.

Shortly thereafter we were in the shower together and he was mauling my tits and crotch while I was trying to determine if his cock and balls were the biggest in my experience. One thing was for sure -- I had never seen live an uncut cock before, nor one with the perfect aspect ratio that his had.

If the shower stall had been bigger we would have fucked in it -- but since we didn't want to take the chance of falling -- or being uncomfortable -- we waited until we got to the king size bed in the room.

Derek's tongue electrified my pussy and clit more intensely than if I had stuck my finger in an electric socket. After two nerve-energizing orgasms he started to bring his tool to my vaginal vestibule. Despite how wet I was I wasn't sure about my ability to accommodate it so using my considerable strength I rolled him onto his back and mounted him. I slowly lowered myself onto his upright stiffy while he pinched my nipples. I was pleased when I bottomed out and then started riding him.

I have to say that it was up until that time the best fuck of my life. It was probably a combination of being so turned on by my stripper performance, his cut body, and his lovely and unusual-in-my-experience cock, but I was a wild woman. As I was about to orgasm again he pulled my chest into his, violently bucked upwardly a few times, grunted, and then deposited a monster load of cum into my anxious pussy.

I lost consciousness for a while, but when I regained it I had a feeling of excitement and contentment more intense than any before in my life.

I think that we fucked three more times before I woke the next morning; I can't really be sure because I had so many orgasms that things seemed to run together. Even though we talked little we seemed to connect on some primal level.

When I finally became fully awake the next morning bright sunlight was streaming through the windows of the hotel room. Derek was gone. I dragged my ass out of bed, with delicious pain emanating from my red and overworked pussy and nipples. After doing my business and taking a shower -- unsuccessfully removing all cum from my vagina -- I walked back into the bedroom.

There was a note from Derek on the dresser. "Thanks for the best sexual experience of my life. I had to meet my parents before flying back to the West Coast. If I lived here I'd never let you out of my bed. Hugs & Kisses, Derek."

As I dressed in yesterday's stripper outfit I noticed that he didn't return my bra. "Bastard," I chuckled as I fit a tampon into my cooch to prevent any remaining man cream from leaking onto my thighs. Fortunately I exited the room before 11:00 a. m. checkout time and dragged myself to my apartment -- only about a mile walk. I called Jim Greene on the way to my apartment and asked him if he had my baton and trophy.

"I have them," he laughed. "Wow Alicia, that was the most exciting thing to happen on campus in my three years here -- even more exciting that beating Michigan in football. I hope that the photo that appears in The Lantern is of you clothed -- but given how excited the photographer was I can't guarantee it."

"Shit," I groaned. "When can I get my baton and trophy back?"

"I can deliver them to your apartment -- I don't suppose that that would get me a private encore?" he chuckled.

"Thanks; I'll accept delivery, but the only encore will be in your dreams," I laughed before I terminated the call.

************

While I got lots of smiles when walking on campus the rest of my senior year after the Talent Contest, a nice photo in The Lantern before my bra and panties had been removed, and nasty texts from PB and LB (I don't know how they got my cellphone number since I never gave it to them), the rest of my senior year at OSU was relatively uneventful.

After graduation my first job was with a marketing firm in Chicago. The job wasn't that great but something really good came out of it. One night after work I got a call on my cell from a number that I didn't recognize but I did recognize the name that appeared on caller ID: "Derek Salter," the person responsible for my best sexual experience of my life up to that point. I was surprised.

I answered the phone with a meek "Hello," just in case I was being pranked.

"Is this Alicia Rankin?" came the baritone voice that a recognized even though it was more than six months since our encounter.

"Yes..."

"I hope you remember me; this is Derek Salter; we met after the Talent Contest at OSU."

I chuckled. "Do you think that I'd forget that?"

"I hoped not, but didn't want to be presumptuous."

"You can be presumptuous," I laughed.

We talked for a few minutes about what we had done since out first meeting then, with a little bit of trepidation in his voice Derek said "I've been trying to locate you for a while with little success. However, I finally got to talk with a very nice woman who gave me your cellphone number -- I hope you don't mind."

"Who was this mysterious woman?" I giggled.

"Joyce Rankin -- I believe that you know her as 'Mom,'" he laughed.

"Mom never could keep a secret."

"The reason that I'm calling is that I'm moving to my company's Chicago office next month and I hoped that we could get together."

I was glad it wasn't a video call because I got both a big smile on my face, and my body shivered. My pussy also got wet but he wouldn't have been able to see this on a video call. I took a few seconds to compose my response.

"I would love to get together, Derek; but I need to be sure that you understand my situation. There is no doubt whatsoever that we're sexually compatible; however, now that I'm out of college I'm looking for a real relationship, not a simply sexual relationship. You very may well be excellent relationship material but if we 'get together' for me it will be a test of if we're compatible out of the sack before we get back into the sack. Our previous experience was a completely unique one for me fueled by circumstances difficult to articulate, but not the normal me. Am I clear -- and not presumptuous?"

Derek was silent for a few seconds then responded "I too would like to see if a real relationship with you is in the cards. I agree with your approach entirely. Now, how soon after I move to Chicago the 22nd of the next month can we meet?"

To make a long story short I was able to hold out for four dates with Derek before I couldn't stand it any longer and we fucked each other's brains out. Once we got back together sexually we never interrupted it again. I moved in with him six weeks after he got to Chicago and se were married six months after we moved in together. Marjorie Waters gave us a honeymoon to Bermuda as a wedding present and our married life got off to a phenomenal start.

The only minor glitch with my marriage was due to me telling Derek about my "relationships" with the Pedestrian Bitch and the Little Bitch. I revealed this to him only to explain my actions at the Talent Contest. Derek told me that my relationships weren't healthy, but since it was unlikely that I would interface with them again after a few discussions the matter was dropped.

***********

Every few months someone wins the Powerball Lottery despite the fact that the odds are 1 in 292.2 million. I point this out just to justify in my mind that long odds sometimes come through for bad as well as good. I tried not to let what happened next cause me to believe that some evil force was out to get me.

A few months after Derek and I married I changed jobs. I didn't really like my marketing job much, and I had basic qualifications for a job in pharmaceutical sales, which was much more lucrative and played more to my strengths (people skills). I started a training course with one of the three largest pharmaceutical companies in the world (I'll call it "Big Pharma") and after two months working with a mentor was on my own.

At the first all-salesmen conference after I started at Big Pharma I learned first-hand about how long odds can come in -- in a bad way. Who the fuck were two of the other sales reps for Big Pharma but LB and PB!

PB worked out of the Milwaukee office, LB out of the South Bend, Indiana, office. Both of those offices are roughly only 90 miles from Big Pharma's headquarters in Chicago which I work out of. When I was introduced to them at the meeting I put on a fake smile and didn't crush their hands when we shook, but I distanced myself from them as quickly as possible. Since they were now both married and had taken their husband's names -- just as did I -- I hadn't connected the names on sales reports with them.

PB was now Brittany Swan, and LB was now Shirley Starr. They hadn't recognized my name either since I was then Alicia Salter. (The fact that all three of our last names now started with "S" made everything even freakier since we were listed close to each other in the national sales reports.)

When I got home after the conference Derek listened patiently to my tirade about now being in competition with the Pedestrian and Little Bitches again. He counselled me to cool it. I told him that I would, but I knew that I wouldn't.

At the start of my recognition of our competition our sales volumes were roughly comparable. I threw myself into my work even more so to attempt to outdo them. When the next report came out three months later while my volumes had significantly increased to my dismay so had theirs in roughly equivalent amounts. I knew then that they were taking our competition as seriously as I was.

One unusual feature of our employment by Big Pharma was that although we had roughly outlined sales territories we were not restricted to those territories. Therefore I got the brainstorm of poaching on their territories that were close to Chicago. While it required more effort on my part I came upon that solution more quickly than PB and LB did so when the next quarterly report came out I had 16% more sales than PB and 14% more than LB, well outside the realm of statistical probability.

That started the war in even more earnest.

When our competition heated up even more through various other means -- I won't bore you with all of the details -- I started thinking "out of the box" on how I could ultimately best them. This included doing research on their husbands, namely Colin Swan and Ken Starr.

While superficially I still considered PB and LB as unattractive bitches who simply fooled men into thinking that they were hot, deep down I had to admit to myself that they were hot in actuality. This was confirmed by the fact that their husbands were as good looking as Derek -- and I considered Derek a hunk-and-a-half. My competitive obsession was such that I hired PIs to find out more about Colin and Ken.

Then my competitive obsession went nuclear when both PB and LB surpassed me in sales one quarter and I heard from my friends at work that they were gossiping about me.

As a result of my obsessive stalking I found out that Colin was going to a conference in St. Louis. I could justify a pseudo business trip there at the same time, so I left Derek at home with pre-prepared meals for three nights and checked into the same hotel as Colin. Fortunately Colin was taller than I am, even if only by an inch.

It required every single female wile that I had, plus some that I developed on the spot, and getting Colin lit at an Irish pub, but the third night of his conference I maneuvered my way into his bed at the hotel.

I put every ounce of energy that I had into my seduction of Colin. I was more charged sexually that night than at any time except for when Derek and I first fucked after the Talent Contest, our first fucks after we met in Chicago, and our honeymoon.

I practiced every single erotic maneuver and technique that I had ever used or even imagined on Colin, and after the first few minutes in his hotel room bed he was putty in my hands.

When I objectively examined my encounter with Colin sometime afterward I realized that not only was there was no emotional component but that physically it didn't compare with making love to or fucking Derek. But it still gave me an almost unprecedented level of satisfaction because I achieved the ultimate competitive advantage over PB; I had fucked her husband.

While Colin was starting to have some guilt when we parted the "morning after" I assuaged it -- I didn't hate him, just his wife, and of course I never wanted him to report it to Brit -- by telling him that it was just a one night stand, our spouses would never know, and we just had an animal attraction to each other and would never meet up again.

Also, I gave him a fake name.

Although I felt a little guilt myself, it was small compared to my level of satisfaction and gloat at having achieved the ultimate competitive advantage over Brit.

After my success with Colin I set my sites on LB's husband Ken. Rather than going into all the details of my seduction of Ken suffice it to say that I used some information about LB to my advantage, and planted some information about her that wasn't true that he apparently believed. In any event things culminated when LB was in Indianapolis one night when I got to actually spend the night with Ken in her marital bed.

The situation with Ken was, after the fact, almost identical to the situation with Colin, although I got the added satisfaction of fucking him in LB's own bed!

************

After my seductions of both of PB's and LB's husbands I was really smug. However, after the passage of some time I started thinking about what I had really done; I had cheated. Except for my dealings with LB and PB in the past I had never cheated in or on anything; not on a test, not on a term paper, not in sports, not in personal relationships. I started to have feelings of guilt that I probably should have had before.

Things came to a head after an aborted vacation that Derek and I took to California. We had a great time, including hours of loving sex and companionship. It was as great as our honeymoon. It was aborted, however, when there were two planned days left when Derek's company had an emergency come up and he had to immediately go to Denver. With him gone I had no reason to stay so I got a partial refund on my plane ticket and took an earlier flight back to Chicago.

On my flight back to Chicago -- in coach -- I sat next to a really cute and chatty elderly couple. They were returning to Chicago from their fiftieth wedding anniversary trip. I asked them for the secret to their success, and in general had fun talking with them. About two hours into the flight the husband fell asleep in the window seat while the wife in the middle seat confided in me.

"One thing that I should tell you, Alicia, that I didn't want to bring up with Joe awake -- so that it doesn't revive unpleasant memories -- is that we hit a real rough patch and it was only my honesty that pulled us through," the wife -- Betty -- confided.

"What was the cause?" I inquired.

"Early in our marriage I cheated on Joe -- several times. I felt really guilty and went to a therapist. She advised me to come clean with him. I confessed, told him that it would never happen again, and after a few weeks I could tell that he had forgiven me. After that we had our three kids and have had a wonderful life since, and I never cheated again," Betty continued.

We had a further discussion, but soon I was emotionally drained -- and it seemed that Betty was too -- so we both fitfully napped for the rest of the flight. I gave them big hugs when we landed, and then had some thinking to do.

I was nervous and out-of-sorts for the next few days after my return to Chicago; out-of-sorts enough so that I didn't even curse and spew invectives when the next quarterly report showed that PB had beaten my sales figures by 5% and LB by 3%. I was more concerned about what to do about Derek.

When Derek got back from Denver I tried to fuck him unconscious the first three nights back. Apparently Derek sensed desperation in my actions that was even more significant than my love and horniness. "What gives?" he asked me, holding my hands while sitting on our living room couch his fourth night back.

Thinking back to Betty's advice and greatly desiring to unburden my guilt I told Derek about my encounters with Colin and Ken.

Derek was really angry; infinitely angrier than I had ever seen him before. It was not just my cheating that disturbed him but what he considered my ridiculous competitiveness with Brit and Shirley that he had cautioned me numerous times would eventually come to bite me in the ass.

At that point in time I realized that Betty's advice wasn't worth shit. Telling him was the worst thing that I could have done for our marriage. I then went into full damage control mode and did everything I could to assure him that my past competiveness with Brit and Shirley was a thing of the past, even going so far as to quit my job and to start working for another pharmaceutical company.

After a few months -- during which I was as loving and deferential as possible without being obsequious -- I thought things were on the mend and we just might make it.

I went to Minneapolis on a business trip for the new company I was working for giving Derek big kisses and an other-worldly reverse cowgirl ride -- before I left, and with three of his favorite dinners in the freezer. My trip ended a day early and I called Derek with the good news just before I boarded my flight back, but only got his voicemail.

When I arrived at our house in the Des Plaines suburb of Chicago there was a car with Indiana plates on our street, which I thought was odd. When I entered the house I heard noises coming from upstairs. I semi-consciously picked up a blade from our kitchen knife block, dropped my suitcase on the floor, and walked upstairs.

There, riding Derek cowgirl with her freakishly oversized mammaries bouncing up and down, was that Little Bitch Shirley!

***************

Sitting in the courtroom cogitating on my last few months out on bail I was both saddened and furious that Derek had divorced me. I mean I only stabbed him once to stop him from ejaculating into the Little Bitch's cunt; it's not like that I cut off his dick or anything.

Plus I didn't see what the big deal was with the Little Bitch either. As far as I was concerned the two slashes I inflicted on her made her look better -- they gave her character. From her crying testimony you would think that it was a big deal; and it was sickening how Ken stood by her while Derek had deserted me.

As my attorney was making her closing argument -- supported by the expert witness that she had called -- that my ultra-competitiveness had made me temporarily insane and should result in my acquittal I couldn't really read the jury. After the judge gave them their charge and they retired to the jury room my attorney was somewhat optimistic despite the novelty of my defense.