Merry-Go-Round

Two days later, he told me that he needed me to work that evening, probably until well after midnight. He had a client flying into Logan. He had e-mailed my picture to the client. The client said it was important for me to meet him, to seal the sale.

At just after eight PM, we meet the client. It was Tallas Sokorasa. Yes, that’s him, the rich Greek. Not a tall man, he stood no more then five feet six. He had arrived in his own 727, containing he, as well as his entourage, plus his four bodyguards

Mr. Brown and I were taken to his suite at the Gilbert. It is a fifty-thousand dollar a night penthouse. I was wearing my new red, velvet dress. The platform bra pushed my breast so high that all but my nipples was in plain sight.

The seven course meal took over am hour. All the while, Mr. Sokorasa could not take his eyes off me. Wealth has privalidge. “Herman, good night. I have business with Mrs. Morse.

“Good night, Mr. Sokorasa.”

Turning to me, Mr. Sokorasa matter-of-factly ordered me to take my dress and bra off, as he lit a large cigar. When I was standing with just my heels, stockings, and garter belt on, he raised his right hand and made a circle gesture indicating to me that I was to slowly turn around for his inspection. I did so three times, then stopped. I stood looking at him, as he sat with his left hand on his chin pondering something. Finally he spoke. “One of my sons fancies himself as a movie producer. I wish no problems with your authorities, so I am approaching you with a job offer. I would hire you to be his tuitor at Harvard for the next three month. During that time, it would be understood that he could take all the movies, or still photos of you that he wished. And of course, I would expect that you would be extremely friendly to him, and with me, should I visit.”

I was learning. I asked,”What kind of movies are you talking about?”

“In our country, movies with a well hung Greek man finding satisfaction with a milky white-skinned, English or American woman, such as yourself, are the most watched.”

I could not say no, so I tried to control events, somewhat. I was not aware of the showing of sex scenes on the net. “Could I have your assurance that they will not be sold in American porn shops?”

“Oh, of course. You should have no worry. My son, Elias may tire of this interest for movies in any event. My lovely Mrs. Morse, I would pay you two hundred thousand dollors for your time, until the end of this semester, December tenth? Do we have a bargin, Mrs. Morse?”

“Yes.”

He picked up a small bell, which he rang. A man appeared. “Pleae bring Marleni.”

A slight woman appeared. She stood no more then four foot eleven, and could have not weight more then ninety pounds. "Take Mrs Morse into my chamber. Prepare her for your use. Ask Melta, and Sehed to be available to assist you."

Marleni leered at me. She took me to the bathroom, telling me to soak my lower body in the warm water which was in the tub. I was placed on several towels on the bed. Marleni carfully shaved my pussy, arm pits, and legs. She then poured an entire bottle of K-jelly in my slit, massaging it with her fingers.

Melta and Sehed came into the room, followed by Mr. Sokorasa. They were both huge. Each lie on one of my arms, while lifting a leg so that my slit was completely unprotected.

Marleni asked me, “Have you ever been fisted?”

“I looked at her with shock on my face. “What is fisted?”

“Oh, good. It is her first time. Hold her. We will start.”

Mr. Sokorasa interjected, “No, wait. My son will be in in minutes. He wants to film her.”

At that moment, in walked a boy who was a splitting image of Mr. Sosorasa, except with a more muscular body. He was carrying a camera like the networks have, on a tripod. Two other boys followed him, each also carrying a large camera.

For thirty-five minutes Marleni’s hand was probing, thrusting into me, a fraction of an inch deeper each time. At first I was tense, but they distracted me by pulling, twisting my breasts, and inserting a finger in my fanny. Suddenly, with a hard push, her hand was completely in my vagina. Her hand was rotated so that the fingers while still in a fist, were pointed up. She clenchhed and unlatched her fist as fast as possible, rubbing my “G” spot.

My face got intense. I begin to pant, sweat, as my pussy tightened on her hand. The more that I tightened, the more her fingers disturbed my “G” spot. I exploded in wave after wave of intense orgasm, with my body shaking, sweating, turning beet red. Each men on each side of me violently rubbed my breasts. I could not take it any more, I screamed out as loud as I could,”Oohhoooo, Ooohhooo.Aaahhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.”

I went from one intense orgasm to another. Marleni, who was herself covered in sweat, pumped her hand against my uterus. She turned her hand to grab it. Holding it, she yanked and pulled on my insides. I was sliding my body down the bed towads her to get more of her in my pussy, my fanny thrusting and pumping as hard as I could.

Finally, it was over. I was exhausted.

Sokorasa turned ot his son. “She is a good choise?”

“You did well, Father.”

Handing me a slip of paper with an address on it, Elias said, “You be at this address on September 23rd at four PM.

The following day, Mr. Brown took me to a motel where he used me for over an hour. He told me that he had received a large contract from Mr. Sokorasa.

A month later, Bob came to our house. Bob and Bud hit it off right away. They took turns on me that evening. Bud would play with my breasts, as Bob was stroking in me. I cum several times.

I made six movies for Elias. You’ve seen porn movies on the net. The woman is bent over sucking one guy, while a dude with the biggest cock opens the cheeks of her ass to display her pussy, which he fills with his cock. Then one sees just the cock thrusting deeply in the woman. By the second movie, I could take comfortably most any cock.

On Decenber tenth, seven days after my agreement expired, and the day my agreement with Mr. Sokorasa ended, I received a check for the two hundred thousand. I personally told Mr. Brown to go to hell. Then, I found my husband sitting in his easy chair. Without saying a word, I lowered his zipper, took out his cock, and gave him a blow-job. When he cum, I swallowed every last drop. He smiled when I asked, “Am I a woman now, Big Boy?’

We moved to Nashua, New Hampshire. Bud became a city councilor. He then was elected state senator. To our surprise, the party asked him to run against the incumbent Governor.

August 8, 2000.

Something happened today. An American exchange student by the name of Paul Brown phoned requesting to meet with me, alone. He explained that he had just spent six month in Greece. He said that it was important. Peeking out of the curtains I observed him as he walked from his car to our front door. He appeared to be ten years younger then I, tall, broad shoulders. Had sort of a confident air about him. I met him at the door.

“Yes, I’m Betsy Morse.”

“Yes, I know. I have seen a lot of you.”

I did not like that, but I kept my composure. “Care to sit down?”

Laughing, he handed me an envelope containing forty or fifty, ten by eleven inch pictures. “Who ever took these did a good job.”

Elias had indeed. There was picture after picture of me surrounded by naked men, whose cocks were part or mostly in me. I sat down with a sigh. If these pictures were leaked to the press, my husband was done, both professionaly and politically. “What do you want?”

“A job as an adviser to your husband, and You, Mrs. Morse.”

I knew that an advisor would be at our home at all hours of the day and night. Paul would have access to me whenever Bud was at a scheduled event. Everyone knows a Governor’s schedule. Maybe Bud would not win. I could evade Paul if that happened. Bud won. Paul is his advisor for governmental affairs.

August 8, 2002.

Paul has had sex with me more times this year then Bud. He comes to the house. He walks upstairs. I undress. He eats me, or invades my fanny, or he pulls my head to his cock. I am at the age when my harmones scream for me to have sex. We fuck, intensely. Today, Paul, with his cock erect, approaches the bed.
“Have some more pictures for you Betsy.”

It is Bud, his secretary in arm, walking into a motel room.

The next night I drove to the club in Hyannis. I told the guard that I knew a Winston Harris, and a Dan Beal.

It was Dan Beal who came to the foyer to greet me.

“Betsy, isn’t it. It has been awhile?”

“Yes, Dan. I’m her alone. Do you have a room that I can stay in?”

Dan looked at me carefully, intently. “Yes. Come this way.”

He took me to room 308. In the next six days 73 men spent time with me in that room. I took a digital camera picture of each one of their cocks. I am e-mailing the pictures, one by one, to Bud. Below each one, I write, “Am I a woman now, Big Boy?”

I’m Softly

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