Enterprising Soccer Moms

As I rode my third stud client of the week, this one with a massive uncut cock, I suddenly had a brain fart and thought for a few seconds about how I had gotten to this point. When he ejaculated a full load into my anxious pussy my mind returned to the present, and while coming down from my orgasm decided that I would write a book, or a movie script. I mean my story was certainly strange enough to be interesting, and just weirdly real enough to put doubt in the reader's or viewer's mind if it could be true.

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My childhood and teenage years, when I was Bethany Merrill, were pretty typical for a middle class girl in the Midwestern part of the United States. I excelled at sports because I was tall, strong, and coordinated, but didn't excel as much in the classroom where I was boringly average. I matured early and was embarrassed by my big boobs as an young teen, which caused me to always dress conservatively unless in a team sport that required uniforms. I might even have gotten a scholarship in volleyball (my best sport) to a decent university except that my big boobs were a disadvantage in higher level competition, and without stellar grades I didn't garner much interest. I was never a prom - or any other type of - queen since although all of the males that I came into contact with considered my body to be a ten, but my face was as ordinary as my grades - a five.

There were a number of decent jobs available in the metro area that I lived in for a High School graduate, especially for those with the friendly and upbeat demeanor that I prided myself on. Within weeks of my graduation from High School I started work as a customer service representative for a large company. The two week training course for that job was much more up my alley than science, math, and history had been, and I took to it like a bear to honey. I was so proficient that I advanced to a supervisory position by the time that I was twenty years old, and was in charge of scheduling hundreds of customer service representatives and helping them with sticky problems. While I enjoyed my job, since I was a little girl I had wanted kids, a monogamous relationship with my husband, and the classic house with a picket fence, so I hoped that my foray into the business world would be short-lived.

Something happened when I was twenty and playing in a co-ed recreational volleyball league; initially it was bad and painful, it but ended up working out well. I got hit in the face with the fist of a spastic guy on my team who was trying to spike the ball. My nose was broken and there were other injuries to my face. My health insurance covered a plastic surgeon and I took the opportunity to pick out a new nose and cheekbones. The doctor was the best in the area and once I took the bandages off after four weeks my face was no longer a five - it was between an eight and a nine! And it only cost me the insurance deductible ($250).

Not long after my face healed one of the company vice presidents, Jason Semenov, had a meeting with me and some of the other supervisors from different branches of the company. Jason is a big guy, at least four inches taller than my five feet eleven inches, and although he was trying hard to be subtle it was obvious to me that he was checking me - and my big boobs and long legs - out. After the meeting he asked me to stay to talk about some other issues - which turned out to be bogus, although he made an attempt to make them seem authentic.

Over the next two weeks I saw Jason at work several times, and he was always friendly. When one day we walked out of our headquarters building at the same time (I'm sure it was staged by him) he asked me to dinner.

I was very attracted to Jason; he was smart, ambitious, and good looking. I never imagined while growing up that I'd have a whirlwind courtship, but that's what it was with Jason. By the third date we were fucking - and it was by far the best sex of my life. He was the first guy ever to eat me to orgasm, the first guy to successfully fuck my tits, and the first guy I was with who could actually handle my 140 pound body in sexual positions ranging from The Face-Off, to The Chairman, to The Wheelbarrow.

When I say whirlwind, I mean it. We were living together within two months of our first date, we were married within four months, and I got pregnant three months after that. I had my first child at twenty one, and twins at twenty four. I was living my dream as a stay-at-home Mom, involved in all of my kids activities, doing some volunteer work, and making sure that Jason was well taken care of. Bethany Semenov was one happy camper. The only fly in the ointment was that Jason would be gone some weekends without any really good explanation, but that was just a minor bump in the road.

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Shortly after Jason and I got married he decided to go into business on his own; well actually with eight friends of his. They all were essentially equal partners (actually stockholders in an LLC) and Jason told me that the main focus of their business was money management for wealthy clients. I hadn't realized that Jason was expert in that area, although it was somewhat related to his job at the big corporation we both had worked for, and that I quit when we got married.

All of Jason's friends who he started his business with were married, and I got to know all of the wives really well, especially since we all moved to the same upper middle class four bedroom houses community. Even though we nine wives were very different physically we all seemed to be nice people and our personalities seemed to mesh. All of us had community college degrees except for me, Bethany, - High School only - and Mandy - a four year college graduate.

When I said that the wives were physically quite different it probably was an understatement.

Carol is a big buxom brunette. While Carol is definitely overweight, she had a very pretty face and a manner about her that rivals that of Ashley Graham, so many guys would find her attractive. Her DDs on a five foot six 191 pound woman don't look as big as my DDs on my five eleven 143 pound frame, but in actuality they are slightly bigger

Susan is a small (five one) quiet brunette - that is she's quiet until you got a little alcohol into her, when she turned into an in-control wild woman (if there is such a thing; maybe I should use other descriptors that are more accurate, but I can't think of any). While she has tits about the size of fried eggs she has a very shapely butt and sculptured thighs which most men find very attractive.

Mandy is a free spirit who dresses very provocatively, and is "out-there" in almost every way. She worked her way through college first with relatively menial jobs, and then her junior and senior years made a lot of money as a stripper. She gave up stripping the week before her graduation but is less shy about displaying her body than the rest of us, probably because she follows the maxim "if you have it, flaunt it."

Sri (no resemblance to the Apple AI named Siri) is the most beautiful Indian woman I have ever seen live; she could star in Bollywood. She was actually born in India but moved to the US when she was six and has no accent - unless she wants to in which case she sounds exactly like a native from India speaking English. She's about five feet five inches tall, 115 pounds, with B-cup boobs and a flat stomach.

Julie has curly red hair and steel blue eyes; she sometimes doesn't look real when her hair is frizzy and she has a determined look on her face. Red hair and blue eyes (except for some minor mutations) is the least common hair-eye combination in the world. Her body is roughly average but given the rarity and intensity of her look I don't know many men that don't find her alluring.

Liz and Babs are almost classic Barbie-dolls, with their blonde hair and slim yet curvy bodies. Unfortunately they fall into the "ditzy" category as far as their attention to detail is concerned, but are loveable and do have underlying intelligence. Although they look close enough to be sisters, and often act like it, they are not related.

Denise is a statuesque black woman with dark skin and a sleek body. Her facial features would not be attractive on a white woman, but on a black woman they are striking. Like me she was a volleyball player and at five feet ten inches is only an inch shorter than I am with such muscular legs and arms that she outweighs me by about four or five pounds.

All nine of us are within two years of age of each other, and we all had between three kids - me, Carol, and Denise - and one kid - Sri - by the time that I was twenty nine. Liz and Carol had grown up poor, Sri wealthy (until her father lost his business when she was eighteen), and the rest of us middle class. Only Mandy and Carol worked part time - from home - while the rest of us were stay-at-home moms although we all did some volunteer work. Our kids that were school age all went to the same elementary school, and those that played on soccer teams - like my oldest - were on the same two teams (depending upon whether they were girls or boys). In view of my organizational skills I was tasked with handling scheduling for the entire twelve and under soccer program in our community, making me popular with all soccer moms, dads, and coaches.

We nine women had almost dream lives. We helped each other out with babysitting, carpooling, or anything else that came up; at least seven of us - and usually all nine - met at one house or another at lunch or tea time once during the week, and we always did things together in groups, or all together, every weekend. Our husbands seemed to really love us, only Sri, Mandy and Julie ever complained at all about their sex life, and we all had as many material things as we needed or wanted. The only general complaint that we had was that our husbands and two of their single male staffers went on a retreat Friday noon until Sunday early afternoon once a month where wives and kids were never invited. The nine wives got together for dinner, movies, and fun with the kids both the Friday and Saturday nights that they were gone, switching from house-to-house every time.

The year that I turned twenty nine is significant because that is when our upper middle class lives were destroyed almost overnight. All nine of our husbands, and the two single employees who went with them on the once-a-month retreats, were arrested on the same Saturday morning when they were on one of their retreats.

The nine of us wives, and all of our kids, were at my house about 6:00 p. m. that Saturday when our cellphones started ringing. The calls weren't from our husbands, but from their lawyers; while some shared a lawyer, most had their own. We were all advised that our husbands were arrested by the FBI for - we didn't find out all charges at that time, but within two weeks we were apprised of all of them - enterprise corruption, money laundering, fraud, and most serious and disturbing of all, human trafficking.

The government seized all of our joint assets; fortunately, we all had our own bank and/or brokerage accounts that we had set up with the encouragement of our husbands (maybe they knew this day was coming) so we could survive for a while, but the bails were so high that only Babs' and Denise's husbands could post them, and that was possible only because they had rich parents. However, at the recommendation of our attorney - that the nine of us hired together to advise us of our rights - Denise and Babs got protective orders against their husbands, so after making bail they went to live with their parents, not Denise and Babs.

One reason that Denise and Babs were able to get the protective order, and the rest of us started getting estranged from our husbands, was because after a week in jail one of the single employees turned state's evidence and among the things that he revealed were that all of the husbands, at one time or another, "sampled" the trafficked women, who were primarily from Vietnam, Eastern Europe, and South America. While the husbands denied it there was enough information and supposition to make us very wary.

Following the advice and utilizing the expertise of our attorney and a money manager we were able to get the government to agree to let us keep 15% of the sale proceeds of our houses - the rest to go to the government - our vehicles (which were minivans except for Mandy's Porsche in addition to her minivan and Sri's Mercedes sedan, which they could establish that they bought with their own money), and our and our kids' personal possessions.

The nine of us moved en masse to a new neighborhood of "affordable" houses in the same school district that our former houses were in, most of us with just enough money for the down payment and for at most six months of mortgage payments and food. Mandy and I decided to get the biggest model in the development, with a two bedroom add-on, and live in it together with our five kids to save money.

Things were really rough. We commiserated about our financial situations and tried to think of ways that we could pull ourselves out of the condition that we were in. Since our husbands' troubles were well publicized most of the acquaintances (I wouldn't call them friends) that we had from our old neighborhood ostracized us, and Carol and Mandy lost their part-time jobs. The soccer league, however, "magnanimously allowed" me to continue to do scheduling, most likely because no one else would do the job. About the only joy that I got was as a soccer mom, all three of my kids now in the league as well as both of Mandy's.

Of course we all contemplated divorces, but we didn't go ahead for two reasons; the first was because we didn't really have the money to, and the second was because we thought it best to wait until the trial was over in case things came to light that would at least partially exonerate our husbands, all of whom maintained their innocence. However, our clever lawyer got all of the husbands to agree in writing that if we eventually did file for divorce none of the assets that we had after the government seizure would be community property and would not be subject to diving up if a divorce occurred.

After about the third month in our new digs, with our collective situation becoming more and more desperate, we had only been able to obtain some menial jobs that wouldn't work in the long run, but would just stave disaster off for a while. Then a bizarre event occurred.

One of the places that Mandy had gone for an interview about a job with a living wage, at which she was treated badly and lost her normal great self-confidence, was located right next to what was billed as a Modelling Agency. A man was walking out of that establishment at the same time that Mandy was exiting her interview with tears in her eyes, and they slightly bumped into each other. The guy apologized, handed her a hankie, and asked her "Why the tears?"

"Sorry," Mandy replied, "just another frustrating rejection after a bad job interview."

"You're looking for work?" the guy replied, giving Mandy a head-to-toe look over.

"Yeah - for one that pays decently, for three months now without success," she sighed.

"Come into my office - let's talk," the guy said, opening the door to Williams Modelling Agency.

About three that afternoon Mandy came back to the house all animated. After we got the kids playing or doing homework Mandy excitedly told me "I think that we might have a lead on something that will pay pretty well."

"Say what?" was my anxious reply.

"My one p. m. interview was crap, but afterward I ran into this guy who owns what he calls a modelling agency. He told me that he has call for women to host parties, conventions, and other high-brow events, and said that I was perfect for what he was looking for. He also asked if I had any friends since he had several openings, and get this 'Especially for tall well-endowed women'" she chuckled. Then with a sly grin she asked "Who do you know that's tall and well-endowed?"

I turned a little red, and then asked "Is this a legit business?"

"Seems to be," she replied. "Why don't we give it a try?"

While Carol and Sri watched our kids the next day we both went to a formal interview with Mr. Williams, a short portly man with a handlebar mustache, a quick smile, and an easy manner. We both dressed in evening gowns, and if I do say so myself we looked really good. Williams had a convention he had to staff that Saturday that he needed two hostesses for and the pay was more than twice as much per hour as any of the part time jobs any of we nine had gotten so far. We quickly accepted.

Once soccer games were over that Saturday our seven friends made arrangements to take care of Mandy's and my five kids, so we gave them quick hugs and kisses goodbye, quickly changed into our hostess duds, and went to the convention.

The convention was for high end real estate investors from three different continents; there was obviously a lot of money in the convention hall given the dress, jewelry, and mannerisms of the convention goers. While standing on my feet for six hours with heels on (Williams insisted that I wear three inch heels despite my height, and Mandy five inch ones, so I was six two and she was six feet) was a little rough, especially since I had to keep a smile on my face the entire time, the hostess duties weren't that bad. I did have quite a few guys approach me with obvious interest, but I was able to politely diffuse most of the situations, even though I was not wearing my wedding rings (which I hadn't since I found out about the alleged sampling of trafficked women by Jason).

There was one guy, however - a guy who seemed to be too young for this event, unless he had family bucks, and who was my height with my heels on and very good looking - who approached me several times just to chat. While I wasn't keeping track of Mandy, I did see a guy that could have been related to the guy chatting me up who seemed to be hanging around her a lot too.

When we were closing up, the two bird dogs - who introduced themselves as George and Allen when they saw Mandy and I together putting things in order - offered to help. Since I was tired at that time, and Mandy was flirtatious, we agreed. George and Allen walked us to Mandy's Porsche, and when we got there invited us to have drinks with them at a local bar. I was ready to go home, but since I hadn't had any adult fun for five months by that time, and since Mandy was driving and really wanted to, we agreed. I drove with Mandy to the bar, following George's Lamborghini.

We had a very pleasant adult conversation with George and Allen for the next hour, while not really drinking much since we needed our wits about us. It was apparent from our conversations that they both had really big bucks. George seemed highly interested in me, Allen in Mandy. As we were saying our goodbyes - we didn't hide the fact that we had five kids between us and were still married, although "separated," - George took me aside and Allen Mandy.

"Bethany," he smiled - our name tags at the convention had our real first names on them - "I don't want to insult you; however, I'm only in town tomorrow and tomorrow night and then I fly back to Toronto. I really would like you to spend the night with me tomorrow - I'm happy to pay your expenses for transportation, a babysitter, and whatever; how's a thousand dollars, five hundred now, five hundred when you meet me tomorrow night?"

I was a little dense at first; then shocked. I had never been propositioned for money before, although I had never worked as a hostess at a high roll event before either. I probably was staring at him dumbfounded, but he took my shock as resistance. "OK, two thousand, half now, half tomorrow." When I still didn't respond he said "Come on, you can't have that many expenses, and I promise that I'm a fun guy; twenty five hundred, a thousand now, fifteen hundred tomorrow."