Letters from the Attic Ch. 03

"Wow, that' was great" she said neutrally, rolling over and breaking contact. Rory was transfixed on the entire scene, staring straight at Jill's bottom, then looking like the kid who got caught in the cookie jar. The bulge in his shorts was evident. "I can't thank you enough. I don't think it's going to encourage me to make a career out of the modeling business, but I might actually get through the day tomorrow. I really appreciate it!" she concluded brightly. "I think I'd better head in. Paul's probably looking for me."

Paul was not only been looking for her, but had found her. Their room overlooked the pool and Paul watched the entire massage. Watching the young salesman feel up his wife made him hard as a rock and he stroked himself gently as he watched his wife become more and more aroused at the young man's ministrations. He was placing his own bet whether her next text was going to be "can I do them?"

When she returned Jill rushed to him and jumped on the bed. Paul flipped her onto her back and untied both strings of her bikini bottom.

"I've been watching from up here for the last half hour. I want to see how wet you are before I touch you. I want to see how much you liked having his fingers tease you."

Jill lay down on the bed and placed her heels near her buns. Paul lowered his head to her snatch, which was wet and fragrant.

"Oh, you've been a very naughty little girl" Paul scolded. "I think you wanted Chip to put those fingers inside your pie. I think you wanted him to massage you inside the slick places, that's what I think." Jill moaned as her husband lightly touched the inner part of her folds

"Tell me Jill" would you like for that handsome young man to push his fingers up into you like I'm doing right now. He'd do it in a second if you gave him the green light. You know that don't you? He'd absolutely love to open your flower and see what gifts you'd give him in return."

Paul's dirty talk always made her horny. He knew just what buttons to push and he was pushing them with the speed of a typewriter. Jill knew she would come unglued, just like she always did.

But Paul didn't want that, at least not quickly. He wanted Jill to admit her dirty desires, to admit that she wanted the young man, that he had made her insanely wet and that she wanted more from him, so he worked her, thrusting his two longest fingers in and out of her twat rhythmically. Soon Jill was bucking against his hand, her orgasm fast approaching.

"Not so quick baby" Paul said. "You haven't answered my question. Would you like him to push his fingers up into you like I am right now?"

"Maybe" Jill answered, refusing to say what she knew Paul wanted to hear.

"Maybe? I don't think so" Paul answered withdrawing his slick hand. I think your pussy is giving me all the information I need to know to answer this question. You were sopping wet when you came in. That was all Chip's doing wasn't it?"

"Yes" Jill admitted bluntly.

"And he made you want to cum, didn't he?" Paul asked.

"Yes" Jill admitted again.

"And if he were up here right now and I said go, you'd let him put that stiff cock you felt when you put your foot in his lap right inside you, wouldn't you? Maybe your mouth? Maybe your pussy? Maybe even your asshole? You'd do that for him wouldn't you?"

"Yes...YESSSSS" Jill oozed.

"Well, you're a little too hot for my taste" Paul said jokingly. "I think it's time we let you cool back down before you do something rash." He withdrew his lips and his two fingers from Jill's pussy and sat back.

"OH NO YOU DON'T BUSTER!" Jill laughed and pushed Paul onto his back. "You're finishing the job you bastard" she said emphatically. She did a 180 and straddled his face, lowering her pussy onto his mouth. Paul began laughing.

"NOW, EAT ME OR I'M GONNA MAKE YOU REGRET IT" Jill yelled. Paul was too busy laughing to pay attention to the work at hand until Jill unzipped his fly and took his cock into her mouth. The sixty-nine was Paul's favorite position in the whole wide world. He leapt at Jill's twat and buried his tongue in her, moving it up and down her lips lightly, then spreading them to bare her clit and attack it with rapid flicks of his tongue. His two fingers invaded her snatch and soon Jill was huffing and puffing on his cock in reply.

"OWWWWWW, YA, YA, YA, OH THAT'S IT, THAT'S RIGHT, THAT'S RIGHT, HOLY FUCK THAT'S GOOOOOOD, ooohh, ooh my God Paul" she crowed as a powerful climax hit. After she'd come down from her high, she said "you're a total fucker. You know that don't you? Just for that you don't get anything in return."

"Doesn't matter." Paul laughed, "I've got to go to a damned banquet anyway." He showered and left. Jill ordered room service-very nice, very expensive room service at Chip and Rory's expense. She ate and drank a half-carafe of dry white and called it a night. Paul returned late, a little soused from after-dinner drinks with another supplier. He pecked at her but she was too sleepy to respond. Plenty of time tomorrow, she thought.

ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER NIGHT

This convention thing hadn't gone a bit like what Jill expected she thought as she lay in bed the next morning. She'd expected Wendy to be there, and to be having the doo with the two of them. But Wendy hadn't made it. But there was an expectancy of sex here. All over the place. She could feel it. Most of the conventioneers were looking for it, and the town was set to provide it. If the randy commentary she had received yesterday was any indicatioR, the customers and suppliers were ready to tear the top off when the schedule gave them free time to hit Miami this Saturday evening.

With experience, the second day of modeling for Car-Go went much smoother. She learned to carry herself with an almost indifferent air to the customers. Not impolite, but distant, then professionally friendly when engaged. By changing her attitude, she changed theirs. The number of racy comments dropped, and the number of guests processed jumped. Sid and Ralph were ridiculously happy. Jill was happy to have it all done. Chip and Rory waved at her from their booth and she gave them a friendly wave in return. Chip held up his hands and flexed them, an open invitation to another foot massage. Jill shrugged her shoulders in response; maybe! Paul came by only to take a few candid snapshots of her in her tawdry uniform, doubtless to use as leverage for something later. She knew he wouldn't be putting them up on Facebook.

If Friday was a day for work, Saturday was the day to play. She could feel it in the guests when she interacted with them. They were all biding their time and waiting for the place to go "boom." She changed into comfortable clothes after her job ended and watched one of the celebrity interviews, a dance routine and a stand-up comedy gig, before she and Paul retired to their room to get ready for the evening.

The night would get a late start. They had reservations at a famous local steakhouse for 8;00, then were set to go "clubbing" as Paul described it afterwards. Jill tried on several different outfits before settling on the most daring one in her suitcase. It had been called "Party in the Back" cocktail dress in the catalogue. It was very short, black and stretchy. Deeply cut in the front, it had full shoulders, and an even larger cut in the back that went all the way down to just above her tailbone. The dress was held together in the back by a series of fabric strips that connected the two halves. Given the design, she couldn't wear a bra with it. She put it on along with a pair spike-heeled black mini boots and vamped up the makeup just as she'd done for the show. Paul gave the outfit two enthusiastic thumbs up, even though it did a poor job of hiding her nipples, or perhaps because it did a poor job of hiding her nipples.

"You look fantastic" Paul told her as she presented herself for the evening. "You know that every guy on this trip is going to want you when they see you in that outfit? They're going to want you. They'll be sneaking peeks at you all night, hoping to get a look when you aren't looking" Paul said.

"And what do you think about that?" Jill asked.

"I think I want you too, but it would make us late for the car" Paul said.

"No silly, about the other. About the other guys?" Jill prodded.

Paul knew that Jill was asking about more than whether she could tease them. She was asking whether she could have them. He knew he would say yes. From the moment they'd begun sharing, he had fantasized about the possibility of seeing his Jill service a room full of men.

"I think they'd be fools not to want you. Let's see about whether we do anything else as we see how the evening goes. Let's talk before if you want to do anything with anyone but me and Steve, okay?" Jill readily, even anxiously, agreed.

"Two more additions to the outfit" Jill said, returning to the bathroom, emerging a moment later. Paul saw one addition right away, but struggled to find the second. Jill now wore a choker, a thick black collar that wrapped snugly around her neck and screamed slave. After surveying her for several minutes he finally picked up the second addition, a thick gold bracelet on her left ankle. Paul knew what that meant too. Í'm a hot wife. I'm available for a good fuck to the right guy!

The additions to the outfit put steel in Paul's cock, just as Jill knew it would. It was time to lay it on the line with Jill. She was in a near rutting mood and Paul knew that a few well-selected words could push her further down the path. He drew her near him, sat her on the right side of their love seat and whispered "now that outfit is going to get you fucked tonight in every.......single......hole..." and hooked his finger under Jill's collar.

"Is that what you want?" he whispered.

Jill could feel the wetness, which had already begun to rise when she donned the choker, seep into her thong. "Maybe yes" she replied quietly.

"Hmmm. Maybe. Let me gather some things" Paul said. He disappeared downstairs, returning from the hotel lobby shortly. Jill heard him place things in a large shopping bag, which he then carried along with them to meet their friends. She didn't know the precise contents of the bag, but she had ideas.

Steve made the arrangements for the evening along with the Buffalo guys. The group consisted of Paul, Steve, Chip, Rory and the Foreman twins, who were hawking a joint venture with Buffalo Lumber. They took a huge black Suburban to a ridiculously expensive steakhouse where the sponsors had reserved a private room. Just as Paul had predicted, all six men on the trip were completely enthralled with Jill. They jockeyed for position next to her when they stood in the line for the car, jumped the line to be able to sit with her on the way to the restaurant, then tried to position themselves next to her at the dinner table. She ended up sandwiched between Rory and Sid. Paul enjoyed and understood, the competition. Throughout the meal Sid and Rory made over Jill and as the drinks liberalized the mood, reached out to touch her arms or hands to illustrate a point in conversation, or to get her attention.

They ate too much, drank too much, and spent too much. Jill understood that this kind of entertaining existed, but as a teacher she'd never been part of it before. She peeked and the bill was over a thousand dollars for seven people.

"So, we'll take you two back to the hotel from here, then head out" Chip said as they pulled out of the restaurant.

"Why?" Jill asked. "I thought we were going clubbing?"

"Well....we are" Chip answered, "but we're going to a place we didn't figure you'd be comfortable going, so we assumed that you'd prefer to be brought back to the hotel."

"You mean a strip club" Jill answered bluntly.

"Well...yeah" Steve responded.

"Let's go!" Jill said. "It's not like I haven't seen a naked lady before, is it?"

"Tally ho!" Chip responded and made a correcting turn at the next light.

The place was called Foxy's. Jill had heard of it. It was one of the most expensive and exclusive strip clubs in Miami, frequented by all the local athletes and celebrities. They went to the front of the line and were immediately ushered in over the howls of protest by the patrons standing in line behind them. From there, the host took them to a private room. The place was absolutely buzzing with sound, light, and young flesh. Just walking in, Jill saw three of the most stunning women she'd ever personally seen. No wonder this place had a line out the door.

The private room was set up in a semi-circle. A large circular table with a dance pole running through its middle dominated the space, and a leather couch wrapped around the table. Again, there was a budding competition to see who would sit next to Jill, but Paul called an end to it, albeit under the cover of a joke.

"Steve, you're so old and your bladder is so weak, maybe you should set up on the side there. Jill can sit next to you and then I'll sit inside of her. The remaining four men looked hang-dog for a moment, but squared up when the scantily clad waitress made her way into the room to take drink orders. Soon after, their mini-show got under way. The first dancer was a beautiful Latino woman who reminded Jill of Carmen. Short, very curvy, very sensuous, but, in a word, tired. After two days managing the non-stop firehose of male lust, Jill understood just how easily someone in the sex business could get tired of the attention. Still "Rebecca," beautiful though she was, just went through the motions. The guys each did the requisite stuffing of Rebecca's G-string and she responded with the prescribed motions and teases. If the men were put off by her empty professionalism, they didn't show it.

The second dancer was the prototypical Barbie; blonde, tall, skinny legs and arms and enormous silicone-enhanced breasts. Steve, in particular, seemed enthralled by "Lucy" and spent so much in change to keep her nearby that he had to hit the cash machine to re-supply. Both women made overtures towards her, and she let them dance for her while Paul paid the fare, but neither were attractive. Lucy was far more engaging and personable than Rebecca, and had a very liberal attitude about where the guys could put their hands. The guys, including Paul, felt her legs up and spanked her behind each time she lowered her tiny bottom in their direction. Still, she didn't raise Jill's pulse at all.

Then a red-headed bomb named Shannon went off. The moment she stepped into the room Jill's clit barked. She was young. Incredibly young Jill thought. Jill couldn't believe that this girl wasn't faking her birth certificate to get the job. Her looked screamed "Irish" even before she opened her mouth and removed all doubt. In a sense, she was Jill's doppelganger, tall with fiery red hair, pale perfect freckled skin and the slim athletic appearance of a sprinter. Her arms and legs were well muscled, as was her stomach. Her breasts were perfect for her carriage, not overly large, but in a beautiful tear-drop shape and proportioned perfectly over her upper chest. Delectable. True to the Irish act, she wore nothing but a jade necklace, a dark green G-String, and green suede thigh boots with sharp spikey heels.

Aside from her youth and attractiveness, Shannon exuded a power that neither of the prior dancers had. She owned everything in the room from the moment she entered it, including Jill.

Shannon's eyes locked onto Jill's as soon as she entered the private room. All of the guys noticed it. Paul leaned over and whispered "I think you've got a new friend" as Shannon climbed the table to dance. Her dance was different. Not patterned and automatic like her predecessors. Instead, her moves were subtle, understandable, even telling a story of longing, surrender and rapture. But though she moved around the table when she danced, she danced for Jill alone. She put the required amount of attention in on the men, and reaped the rewards for it, but her eyes, her face, her attention, were all on Jill.

Jill reacted bodily to her. She could feel her lips becoming heavy again, then the wetness ooze from her. Paul saw the connection and wanted to see what would happen if he fed it. He handed Jill a wad of five-dollar bills. Jill reached out to place one in Shannon's G-string, but Shannon shook her head "no" and extended her right hand instead.

She's asking me to dance with her! Jill thought excitedly. She grabbed Shannon's hand and stepped up onto the table without a second thought. The other guys hooted and clapped. They'd seen the laser-focus that Shannon and Jill were exchanging and they were hungry to see more of Jill. The temperature in the room was suddenly a hundred degrees hotter.

"Give me your tie" Shannon ordered Chip as soon as Jill had mounted the table. Chip slipped off his expensive Italian silk tie off and handed it to Shannon. Shannon looped it over her neck and shoulders. She faced Jill at first, and, staring directly into her eyes reached out to touch Jill's face softly, clearing a strand of her long blonde hair. It was the kind of gesture extended by lovers. To the two women, the men were simply no longer there. Shannon trailed her fingers gently down Jill's arms until, grasping Jill's hands, she raised them to her breasts. Jill had become entranced by the young Irish bombshell. She squeezed Shannon's nipples. Shannon's mouth opened and her head arched back, dropping her brilliant red locks down her back until they fell nearly to her rump. Neither were bumping or grinding any more. None of the men cared. What was happening in front of them was real, a novelty in these parts.

Surfacing from her spell, Shannon removed Jill's hands and turned her so that Jill's back rested against the stripper pole. Standing behind both Jill and the pole, she rubbed her hands up and down the sides of Jill's dress, caressing her hips and raising the hem slightly as she moved them back up. For a nanosecond when Shannon offered her hand, Jill had hesitated, worrying that standing on the table would show her every private part to all the men in their entourage. When Shannon's hands began their sexy massage, all worries about what the men might see were silenced by the roar of her nerve endings firing off in arcs of pleasure.

Shannon worked her hands up under Jill's arms pits, then pushed Jill's hands all the way over her head, overlapping Jill's wrists with one another and the pole. Shannon pulled Chip's tie off her shoulders and with great fanfare tied Jill's wrists to the pole above her. The knot would never hold Jill for a second, but it gave the illusion of restraint, and it sent such delicious chills down Jill's body. Jill realized that her pussy was now so wet that the men could not only see her glisten, but could smell her.

"You're mine now, lassie" Shannon whispered in Jill's ear in her Irish brogue. She briefly surveyed the faces of the men assembled, reached behind her and put two brandy snifters on the table. The men began pulling 5's, 10's and 20's out of their pockets and stuffing them in the little globes.

"Aye, now let's show that puss" Shannon said. She grabbed Jill at the hips and forced her slowly down into a squat, moving and undulating behind her as she went. Jill's dress slid up and over her waist as her legs parted into a giant "V" at the end of the squat. She was now showing every one of the men her barely covered pussy. The act of giving up control and putting it in the hands of this eighteen-year-old siren and the clear lust of this small group of men she knew acted like a narcotic to Jill. She was so out of control that her only thought was how to please Shannon.

Shannon knelt behind Jill and traced her long fingernails over Jill's muscular thighs, raking them and leaving small white traces in the skin. She moved her fingers around, scratching Jill's exposed bottom on either side of her thong. Every single man watching the two had their hands on their cocks, quietly rubbing the erections which had sprouted in response to the lewd show.