Mistresses Incorporated Pt. 03

"Then you'll just have to prove yourself worthy," she grinned. "Speaking of which...," she began kissing down my body, soon enclosing my penis in her talented mouth.

It surprised me knowing I'd tend to last longer the second time around than she seemed to want. And I surprised her by pulling her pussy over my face, with at least some of my earlier cum still leaking from it. Any surprise turned to pleasure for both of us. Her mouth thrilled me as always as well as anyone ever had, even if it resulted in a high plateau of pleasure rather than reaching climax, while my mouth teased out a strong orgasm and built her towards another until she turned around, finding a condom to roll on and straddled the cock she made hard and ready. I sank into her slowly, and it remained a slow fuck, and more like making love with her lips lowering to mine for soft kisses and eventually and more thrillingly, tongues meeting and playing. Meanwhile my hands sought her nipples, and despite the slowness of her ride, everything conspired to bring her to orgasm, marked by her lips breaking our kiss, letting her voice let out a growly groan while she grinded into my pubic bone.

A loose smile followed her calming, and then everything repeated, with tongue meeting waiting longer, and only for a moment before she lifted her face.

"I really like you, Joe, I think more than any man I've met. I understand how Kali feels, and even Cheryl. It's not boring is it when it feels this...intimate? I just want you to know that I really miss Lizzie. I guess I'm a bit like Bridgette, maybe not so frustrated, but lonely and needy. Somehow you've managed to salve my need somewhat, but since my job is done here and I really should make myself scarce just in case, I'm thinking of meeting Lizzie a little earlier than planned. There's a resort on the Black Sea where our oligarch owns a home. I'm hoping Lizzie can meet me there where I can rent a room from a resort hotel. It would have to be discrete, though maybe things could play out there, the dinner meeting and the switcheroo."

"Or maybe Lizzie could arrange the room and you could be there waiting for her," I offered.

"Except as soon as the oligarch finds out, he'd invite himself over. A romantic hotel room compared to using his lieutenant's bed?"

"True," I acquiesced. "But what if I rented the room, and she'd be visiting me, and then our little dinner could happen?"

"Better," she moaned.

"And why wait so long? Just...to learn Russian?" Her riding me had quickened, effecting both of us.

"I thought...Cheryl," she moaned.

"Cheryl," I agreed while taking hold of her ass and squeezing her into me when our pubic bones met, my mouth filled with tit flesh silencing me.

Her riding became faster and more chaotic until it stopped and we pressed together. I didn't cum and pulled her under me using my hands on her ass and began fucking her with long strokes at medium speed. Though her orgasm quieted, she seemed to have reached a high state of pleasure where peaks happened every minute or so, my lip suckles becoming nibbles and my continued grasping of her ass pulling her into me facilitated them. Despite her protest or warning our first night together, she didn't seem to mind sustaining the intense pleasure. No complaints of being too much, the groans, moans and gasps contained no words of pleading for me to end things, or any words at all that might have let me know, but being overwhelmed by the sustained intensity seemed to be exactly where she wanted to be, and by the time I too lost myself in it and could not hold back sooner than expected made it unknown how long before she hit the wall. All I learned was when I let loose, pounding into her depth while practically teething one nipple and gripping her ass cheeks even harder brought forth her strongest orgasm of the night, which I met with mine perhaps nearly its equal and we pressed against each other where our genitals were conjoined, our bodies practically writhing in our undulations.

When our pulsing lessened, I eased off my hold on her. Weakly, she enwrapped me with arms and legs, keeping my body weighing down on hers while steering my lips to hers meeting softly but somehow with conviction, expressing appreciation and thanks, and I returned the sentiment. When it broke, she expressed it literally.

"That was perfect, Joe."

"I'm glad," I grinned.

We spent hours in bed after, not making love but being intimate, getting to know each other. Neither of us wanted to leave that place, that space of intimacy, to the point that she ordered a pizza from bed, and when it arrived I immediately brought it there.

While munching on pizza, we decided to speed up the timetable, with me staying at my family home for a week and a half with Cheryl, then heading to the former Soviet Georgia where the oligarch's vacation home resided.

"Cheryl's being left on her own," Karen explained. "With what we let loose, both Pat and your sister are going to be very busy taking over the corporation we just outed."

I laughed. "Mercenaries to the end."

"You understand we want to make things better, Joe. A thriving corporation that also has compassion and isn't run by self-centered pigheaded males can happen and should happen. Dwelling on the bottom line so that the workers get paid as little as possible and get fired for the smallest complaint and the bosses are there to pad their bonuses and their golden parachutes whenever they feel like early retirement makes for an unhealthy environment to work in and ultimately an unsuccessful company. Getting rid of the pigs and appreciating those who actually are making the company its money sounds like a complete win to me. So yes, we aim to profit rather significantly from the mess the pigs made. Better us, who care about the people, then the pigs who only care about the money."

"Forgive me for asking," I started carefully, "but do you think only women can run such a compassionate business?"

"Considering the vast majority of businesses are run by men, I hope not. At the same time, the testosterone riddled brain and the jutting, spear like genitals makes for more aggression and less compassion, compared to the more emotional estrogen and the inward genitalia creating a more caring, nurturing, maternal nature."

"What you're modeling sounds like the long time historical conceit that men should go out and work or do battle while the women remain at home taking care of the cleaning and the kids. I know that's not your intention."

"But the model is there, the physical manifestation of the purpose and place of gender. The bread winner and the bread maker remains. The jutting spear of the warrior, out endangering himself because his value in the continuation of the species is a moment injecting sperm, while the mother has to gestate and raise the child, a moment compared to at least the early part of a lifetime. He protects her, but again, whether hunter or warrior, it's a jab of a blade or the shot of a gun and it's done while she's home for months and years protecting new life while worrying that he'll return with the meat and hopefully not some stranger destroying her, her family and her home.

"But the point is that's the past of huts and tribes that no longer applies to cities and vast corporations and monetary systems. A woman can be and is the breadwinner and the man can make the bread. Gestation and birth means a few weeks off work for both parents! And a woman can even choose not to be a mother, whether delayed or ever. They're no longer required to create the next crop of workers to work the farm and eventually take care of them when they get too old to work themselves.

"And yet the physical modelling is there, the hormones are there continuing the gender bias. The male ego, flagging and vulnerable against any feminizing, like being called a pussy. The female looked upon as passive and looked down upon if we're not. But feminizing is necessary, compassion and caring is necessary, just as masculinizing is for the woman. We need to be fierce, fiercer than the man to force our way into a man's realm. And the man needs the compassion and caring to let us."

"So essentially yin and yang for us to be human in modern society," I offered.

"I suppose so," she agreed. "And a corporate yin yang as well. The boss or bosses need to be aggressive and compassionate. Maybe the ideal configuration would be both a male and female boss negotiating, tempering each other if they let themselves.

"At the same time, answering your earlier question, a woman isn't necessarily the better boss. To be broad and generalizing, we can be manipulative cunts, and not all of us have a caring, maternal instinct, just like not all men are dickheads. Some actually care, a lot of them even. Sure, they're there to make a buck, but they genuinely care about those who actually are there to make them the buck. I think it's probably more prevalent in smaller companies, and the larger they get, the more the cynical culture takes over. Perhaps it's the distance between those who do the work and those who get to play with the results. Sort of a male thing there, distaining the lower class. But women can be just as distaining, distancing themselves from the great unwashed or something. Mostly though MSINC works on fucking over dickheads, at least those who deserve it."

"But wasn't Madame Chang a force behind the throne?" I reminded her. "At least in the tactics of extortion and blackmail."

"Behind the throne," Karen pointed out. "Never the figurehead, and I imagine any suggestions she made would have been seen as being that asshole rapist's ideas."

"True," I agreed.

"We'll never change the culture of rule by dickhead, it's too pervasive. But it also means there'll be ample dicks to lop off one at a time."

"Ouch," I reacted, causing Karen to laugh, thus making her apology less than convincing. I ended up laughing too.

"You know," I realized, "That whole idea about the yin and yang, of feminizing the man and masculinizing the woman as an enlightened principle for running companies, as the more civilized way, maybe that's why there seems to be more acceptance of the gay and even transgender culture by the straight majority the more civilized we become. For instance in I think the Edo period in Japan where being delicate and emotional even in a man became the ideal. Or the court of the Louis's before the French Revolution."

"The problem with being that effete and elite, Joe."

"The backlash."

"Like Cromwell and his anti-royalist, meaning anti-elitist revolution. And lopping off dickhead heads in the French Revolution. And more recently, the so called Roaring Twenties with the unapologetic flappers in their loose dresses no longer conformed by bustles or girdles, simultaneous with the Weimar republic perhaps best symbolized by Marlene Dietrich wearing a tuxedo and smoking a cigar, truly in drag. And what came out of that?"

"Nazism."

"Destroying the decadent elite supposedly created by Jews and faggots."

"Even though a lot of the leading Nazis were supposedly gay," I pointed out.

"Which Hitler and his little band of homophobes killed off with the night of the long knives."

"So you think there'll be a backlash with all this cultural acceptance of gays and transgender people?"

"There already is. Who do you think voted in our president?"

"Homophobes?"

"People who'd rather have the old ways of closeting and persecution, who'd rather not see men kissing each other in prime time, even if at least most seem finally to be okay with interracial kisses. But women voted the guy in too even with him boasting about grabbing a woman's pussy. Maybe because he at least wasn't grabbing cock. What does it mean when people vote in a conservative, or whatever our president is?"

"'Make America great again,'" I quoted.

"Just like Nixon winning a large majority in reaction to the hippies and the demonstrations and the riots. But when exactly were we great? When we were complacent being ruled by a bunch of old white men? When people weren't allowed to voice their opinion, to demonstrate or strike? When half the population weren't even allowed to vote? When people were blacklisted or banished for being communists? When the so called huddled masses yearning to be free are turned away or blocked from coming at all except if they're white Europeans who tow the capitalist line? Perhaps reverting back to the very beginning when we're all supposed to be equal except that the founding fathers only saw white men and preferred that they at least own some property. Including slaves of course. That great America?

"The problem with being conservative, or more reactionary really, is you really can't turn back the clock. You can only impose your will on the continuum, trying to stifle the freedom you object to, like taking away a woman's right to abortion or keeping Muslims out because of course every one of them is a terrorist, or minimizing all those raping, thieving brown skin Mexicans from entering or staying in America, even to the point of breaking up families, pulling innocent children away from their mothers who I can't imagine being considered rapists or even thieves, just not white. How is that a great America?"

"Sorry," I said.

"About what?"

"Getting you to raging."

"I really do want to change things, Joe, and I hope it's for the better."

"It is," I said, hugging her. We kissed, but we were dwelling in another realm of intimacy, that of becoming great friends. Lovers really in the true sense of the word.

Which is why we felt it disruptive when Molly brought Bridgette to the house. When Bridgette stepped into the bedroom, she grinned. "Good, you're already naked. I really need to get fucked."

While she stripped, Karen and I exchanged shrugs, our pouts at the intrusion, which Bridgette didn't seem to notice, got pushed up into smiles. It suddenly felt like business even more than it felt when I was with Madame Chang. Truth be told, I had enjoyed the sex games with the surprisingly submissive dragon lady. It gave me a glimpse of what it meant to be a mistress for Mistresses Incorporated. Just a hint really, because I was somewhat attracted to Bridgette when most of the time mistresses weren't in the least attracted to their targets, and, as Chang illustrated, things could get worse. I didn't feel sorry for my colleagues since this was their choice, and of course they profited by it considerably more than any whore profited. And even though these were mercenary choices, it couldn't really be compared to prostitution, and not just because of the profit, but because they chose the targets while johns did the choosing, and even with the higher echelon whores, the escorts perhaps having the ability to vet the johns, it remains completely arbitrary who their next customer might be.

Though, as Bridgette pointed out, my nakedness quickened her access to me, I wasn't exactly ready. Karen, the expert fillatrix, changed that. Even so, by the time Bridgette shed her clothes, Karen hadn't got me quite rigid enough. "Come sit on my face," I offered Bridgette.

"But..."

"Patience has its rewards," I winked.

She did as asked and I found myself confronted by a very juicy cunt. Obviously with no need to move slowly, just a couple licks and a suck of her labia, and I moved to her most excitable part. Just swiping my tongue across the bit of hardness brought forth a deep moan. A couple more brought her close to cumming already. I stopped to wet a couple fingers, driving them into her and finding her g spot and rubbing it while my lips enclosed her clitoris and my tongue dabbed at it. Seconds later, she exclaimed, "Oh fuck!" and I felt the buzz of her orgasmic inner flesh surround my fingers.

By then I'd been made ready by Karen, along with the empathic excitement of Bridgette's orgasm. Already gloved up, Karen and I helped Bridgette to get into position, on her back with legs wide, while still lost in orgasm. Karen placed my glans at Bridgette's slit and I pressed in, going slowly deep until all of my cock was inside her still buzzing cunt. I kept pressing, rubbing pubic bone against pubic bone, which seemed to elongate her orgasm. Only when her inner shivers lessened and she regained her breath did I withdraw to near exit and plunge back in. I kept the thrusts slow at first, but not for long. For one, her ass lifting off the bed, greeting my thrusts tended to want to speed them up. Second, I could tell she was primed for more orgasms. So my thrusts quickened, ramping up to hard and fast, and her upward lifts kept pretty decent time. And reaching between our meeting and retreating bodies, Karen added rubbing Bridgette's clit and teasing her nipples and finally slipping her head between us to suck one while the other nipple got twisted. There was room for her because I was resting on my elbows, keeping distance between our torsos, watching Bridgette express her immense pleasure, orgasm after orgasm.

"Please," she finally uttered.

A flurry of thrusts close in brought her to a new height. I pressed against her while she convulsed beneath me, eventually letting go of the tension and seeming to pass out. But when I withdrew my still hard cock, she murmured, "Oh."

"Don't worry," said Molly, whom I barely noticed entering the bed naked, "I'll take care of it."

Knowing well what that meant, I plopped onto my back. Molly stripped off the condom, replacing with another, and rode me hard and fast as was her way until we both ended up cumming at about the same time, me first and I think that encouraged hers.

Meanwhile, beside us, Karen helped with the other side of Bridgette's desires, lying back and letting the congresswoman explore. Bridgette's mouth reached Karen's pussy and remained there until Karen came. Or at least I think she did, at least a smallish one, but I could tell her reaction to it was exaggerated, mostly because I knew what Karen sounded and acted like when she came, from small to large, and this was a bit over the top. However Bridgette seemed convinced, a proud smile on her damp face.

"Want me to return the favor?" Karen asked.

"Believe it or not," Bridgette sighed, "I think I'm done for the night."

"I believe it," Karen laughed, giving me a wink.

"So when can we do this again?" Bridgette asked.

"Unfortunately we're all going our separate ways," Karen told her.

"Where?"

"Overseas for me."

"Joe?"

"I'll be staying at my old family home for a little while," I said.

"Where's that?"

"The Hudson Valley just north of the city."

"Then you're close to me!" she grinned.

"Where?"

"My house is just north of Poughkeepsie!"

"That is close."

"Could I visit you?"

"I'll give you his number," said Molly. "We should probably get you back to your apartment."

"Yeah," Bridgette pouted. "What a fucking day."

"Definitely," Karen chuckled.

She and I remained in bed watching the other two women get dressed, Bridgette in her casual disguise.

Chapter 13

Bridgette managed to visit my family manse the night before I would be heading to a resort on the Black Sea in the formerly soviet Georgia. I was surprised she had the time what with the repercussion of her, or my explosive report along with her campaigning to retain her seat and I was definitely ambivalent about it, preferring to spend my time with my pregnant lover, Cheryl before heading away from her again.

"You know she needs this," Cheryl explained. "And we need to give her the appreciation she deserves."

"You don't think she's going to use this to advance her career?" I pointed out.

"Of course she is. She's a political creature. I hope she advances to the senate or the governorship. We could always use someone like her in government, a strong liberal voice in tune with her constituency."