Corporate Whores

"When do you think we might see the paperwork on this new apartment and those big checks?" she asked.

I could tell she was trying to divert me from the hot redhead. She has a jealous streak a mile wide. I was onto her little scheme. "I wonder how you'll look after the Christmas party?" I mused.

"Well, probably just like her," she said. "If you can find me a giant cock, at least. Jesus, Zane, I give you one job. Can't you be at least a little helpful?"

"Well, I did mention it to Zach Hebron," I said. "He told me he was very well endowed. He's probably the one you want to go after. Well, you might want to give the normal sized ones a go, first. Probably by the time donkey dick gets done, those normal guys won't be able to feel a thing."

She looked at me in admiration. "See, I knew you were on it, Zane. Good job. You think of everything! I'd probably have made my move on him first, and then couldn't have gotten off on the other guys' tiny little dicks. Thank you, Baby."

I shrugged. "One does one's best. Do you have plans for tomorrow?"

"Yes, and so do you," she said. "We're going to church and then Mom and Dad are taking us out to eat."

That sounded good, then I thought it through. "Is Traci going to be there?" Traci is her twin sister. I hated her. Well, I loved her, but she was always Up To Something. It usually involved some prank to be played on her unsuspecting brother-in-law.

"Of course," Marci said. "She wouldn't miss it for anything."

I groaned and Marci laughed. "Don't worry, baby, I won't let her eat you."

Church was very nice. The pastor spoke on love, and I was feeling very loving when we were dismissed. I escorted the family out to the car. Leo (Marci's father) gave the driver directions and we were off. It was a great restaurant and I was having a great time. Marci and Traci went off to the restroom and I conversed with their parents. Staci, their mother, was a slightly more mature version of her daughters and I loved her like my own mother.

Marci came back by herself and slid in beside me. I felt her hand on my thigh and it became apparent that she was feeling frisky. The hand slid slowly up into dangerous territory and I frowned at her. She broke into gales of laughter and I saw the gold filling.

"Leo, make Traci move," I said. "She's doing it again."

Both parents scolded their wayward daughter and the real Marci came laughing up to the table. I pretended to be angry and they pretended to try to mollify me.

Monday, at work, provided a flurry of activity. We were getting ready for the holiday season and Jackson had many papers for me to sign. I signed the lease agreement, the partnership papers and everything was ready. They took me to my new office, a corner one with a view, and I settled in. I mentioned my interest in the lovely Mrs. Thomas and Jackson assured me that he would introduce us at the party.

"All you have to do is say the word and she's yours for the night," he promised. "She's very beautiful and she gives great head," he said.

We had Tuesday off, and the Christmas party was on Wednesday. We would have Thursday and Friday off, as well. Marci and I had a great time Tuesday. She said she was getting everything ready for the big party, and I was sort of looking forward to spending some time with Mrs. Thomas. I had casually mentioned it to Marci a couple of times and it made her eyes flash at me, dangerously, but she didn't say anything. At least she hadn't forbidden it, right? Besides, she was going to be occupied with Executive dong, and I knew she'd want me kept out of mischief.

It turned out that the party was held, of all places, at the Dover building. Marci had mentioned it but it had slipped my mind. We decided to spend Tuesday night at the new apartment, just to sort of christen the place, as it were. It turned out that the bed did have an annoying squeak. I'd have to do something about that. Few tenants enjoy squeaky beds. I'd heard that Armor-All is a fine anti-squeak substance and determined to invest in some. The sound quality was somewhat disturbed by that tedious squeak.

We took some clothes for the party and hung them in the closet. I was in eager anticipation all day, and when Marci finally came out I was stunned. That red dress looked painted on and she was ravishing. I attempted to ravish her, but she complained about me "wrinkling" her. "Later, big boy," she said. "I just hope I won't be all stretched out from the giant dongs."

That did seem problematic, but we'd cross that bridge when we came to it. Hopefully, it wouldn't be burning. Bridges tend to do that, or so I'd heard. She looked me over. I thought I looked pretty good in my tux and she seemed to approve, molding herself against me and stroking me through my pants. "Keep it hot," she said.

I hoped Mrs. Thomas would help me do that. When we walked into the party there was a jazz band playing, food and drinks were spread out in a lavish display, and a few people were already dancing. Marci always insists on being fashionably late to gala affairs. I'm sure nearly every male eye in the place was on her when we stepped in, and probably many of the female eyes, as well.

Jackson came over as soon as we got there and took us to the head table. All the senior partners and a few of the junior ones were seated there. I introduced Marci around and we took a seat. After a drink, Zach Hebron took Marci away to the food tables and Jackson brought Mrs. Thomas over for an introduction. She looked even better, in the flesh. Her name was Christine, and she told me I could call her Christi. She fit right up against me as if she'd been born to be there. We went over to the tables and got some hors d'oeuvres and a drink.

When we got back to the table, Jackson and Hebron were sitting flanking Marci and plying her with lavish compliments. I saw the faintest twitch of an eyelid as her eyes met mine. It looked suspiciously like a wink to my well-trained eye.

With Christi snuggled into my side and some delicious foie gras and crackers on my plate I was as happy as a kid in a candy store. The talk began to get more risqué as the drinks flowed. I overheard some of the things Jackson and Hebron were saying to Marci.

"I can't wait to get you up on that bed and turn you into our little slut," he said. Marci giggled. "You're going to love this," Hebron was murmuring. "Sometimes we get some clients in here that really know how to fuck. You're going to be screaming all night long. We're going to use every hole, over and over until you'll never be satisfied except as our little whore. Don't worry, we'll take very good care of you. As long as you're a good little whore and Zane is a good little cucky-boy, we'll take very good care of you."

"Oh, I'm going to be very good," Marci's words sounded a bit slurred. "I think I'm going to show you some things you've never seen before."

I couldn't help wondering what those things were. Maybe some of the pictures I was going to get would make it clear. I hoped the creaking was fixed so the sound quality would be top notch.

Jackson looked over at me. "We're taking this hot little slut up to your place," he said. "You're not going to recognize her after we're through with her."

The senior partners all filed out, taking an obviously inebriated Marci with them. They got on the elevator and Traci and my father-in-law came in. I patted Christi on the shoulder.

"Showtime," I said.

She giggled. She had a very cute giggle. "Let's get to it," she said.

We all rode the elevator up to the penthouse level. A couple of more people joined us. I thought they looked nice in their uniforms. I wondered if they were airline pilots, but I'd never seen armed airline pilots before.

When I opened the door, there were seven very surprised faces and one malevolent one inside.

"Zane," Jackson said. "What are you doing here?"

The uniforms stepped forward, produced handcuffs and began to mention their right to remain silent, get attorneys and other things as they slipped the handcuffs on.

I looked at Marci. She was wearing only these amazingly sexy red lace garter belts and red stockings. The painted-on dress had obviously come unpainted. She was pulling a robe around her.

"What's going on here?" Hebron demanded. "What are you people doing? We own this suite! Are you arresting us? What's the charge?"

"Pandering," Traci said. "Tax fraud, sexual assault, making illegal videos, sexual harassment, illegal wiretapping and mattress tag removal. We may think of some more things later."

I looked at Jackson. "Damn, Jackson," I said. "I knew that mattress tag collection was going to get you into trouble someday."

I thought Hebron was going to choke. His eyes shot from Marci to Traci. "Who the hell are you?" he finally got out.

"I'm deputy federal prosecutor Traci Olson," she said. She indicated her father. "This is federal prosecutor Leonard Olson." She pointed at Marci, and then me. "That's assistant federal prosecutor Marci Adams and this is special investigator Zane Adams, her husband. With all the evidence we've gathered from the wires Zane has been wearing, you don't have a prayer. We've been working to take you down for the last 18 months, and you're under arrest, motherfucker."

They were all escorted out, single file leaving me, Marci, Traci and Christi in the apartment.

"You're still going to testify against them, right Christi?" Marci asked.

"Oh, yeah," Christi seemed to take an unholy joy at the prospect.

I cleared my throat. "Umm, baby, does this mean that Christi won't be joining us for the evening's festivities? Traci could even stay if she wanted to."

Both women seemed to be totally on board with my proposal. I could see the gleam in their eyes. "I'm not letting either one of these sluts near my giant cock," Marci said, emphatically. "Hit the bricks, sluts."

"Who are you calling slut?" Traci protested. "Besides, this is my apartment. You just subleased it to me yesterday! I'm the one throwing you out. Go home and sleep in your own bed in that damn Millennium Tower you're so proud of. Christi, Zane, you two are welcome to stay if you want."

I was very willing, but I like my nuts attached to my body, so I followed Marci out the door. "Forget about them," she said. "My man is in for a treat tonight. All that excitement has me as horny as hell. Will you turn me into a slut tonight?" She opened the robe just as the elevator door closed. "Do you want a personal slut?"

I looked Marci in the eye. "Maybe later, babe, tonight, I'm sick of this case, I'm sick of whores and sluts and guys who think because they're rich and powerful, they can have anything they want. Tonight, I just want to take my beautiful, brilliant wife home and show her how much I love her. I feel dirty for having been around those guys for 18 months. Do you understand, babe? Can we just share our love tonight?"

She did, and we did.