Shane

I'd been home for only thirty-six hours and already I was feeling cramped. I'd spent the last three weeks on the road, promoting products I didn't really believe in. There are two reasons I keep doing it. The travel and the salary.

The travel is liberating. The days are monotonous, the nights thrilling. During the day, I wear my long black hair up and I wear conservative business attire while I demonstrate dozens of beauty products that don't perform at all like the marketing bullshit I distribute at the same time. My audiences are composed of optimistic women seeking a solution that will instantly propel them to the top of the most desirable woman's list and purchasing agents for retailers from the smallest pharmacy to the largest big box store.

The evenings are my own. I let my hair down, change in something provocative and work the lounge in whatever hotel I'm currently staying in. I don't always find someone I want to sleep with but I'm never without choices.

The salary? What can I say about the salary? It's indecently large and I can sweeten it further with the commissions I earn when I close a contract with some retailer. That means I'm encouraged to fuck a potential client, male or female, if it leads to a contract.

The only real negative? I'm supposed to use the same products I promote, something I do only when I'm traveling.

I'm not naïve. I know I was hired for my looks. The questions that were asked by the HR manager and the VP that interviewed me were designed to ferret out my sexual preferences and my willingness to share without being obnoxious or illegal. Both of them discretely offered to verify my answers but I held out until I met with the CEO. After all, I wanted the job and I didn't want to waste any effort on someone who could be overruled.

So now, I'm home after an extended debriefing by the CEO who gave me the next week off to rest and recharge. I live in a three-story condominium on the top floor of a high rise near center city. The main room is a two-story space with an eighteen-foot high glass wall with a view of the city south, over the lake and the mountains in the distance. It's a perfect party space and, occasionally, I invite a few dozen of my closest friends to celebrate life. The last gathering ended in a wild tangle of naked bodies dancing, and other things, in front of the windows. I made two of them stay over and clean the windows in the morning. I told you my salary was obscenely large.

I decided it was time to go out for the evening. I struggled into a pair of black skinny jeans that looked painted on when I managed to smooth them out. I omitted my usual thong since the jeans were tight enough to show the outline of it. I checked the mirror and adjusted the jeans so the visible camel toe was symmetrical. A chose a black half bra that elevated and compressed my D cup breasts and looked for a suitable top. I settled on a long sleeved fuzzy white item that zippered up the front and invited touching.

I headed out. My destination was Jib's about two blocks away. That isn't the actual name of the pub. It's something like "Nelson's bar and grill." Jib is the name of the bartender. He also owns the place. We've established a relationship over the years and he's always ready to update me of the latest activities of the patrons.

I love Jib's. It's homey, eschews televisions on the walls and is a great venue for my two favorite sports, pool and fucking.

The place was almost empty. There was no one at the bar, the tables were vacant and, besides Jib and Chloe, the waitress, there were three men playing pool.

Jib greeted me with his usual "Hey Shane. What's shakin'," greeting and poured me a double, fifteen year old GlenDronach neat with a side of spring water. I told him to put it on my tab, something he frequently loses after I fucked him several years ago. I know he's keeping score and he'll be back before long for a replay. He knows I know. I'm down with it and he won't push to hard.

Chloe showed up a few minutes later with a plate of fried pickles for me to enjoy. "Where's everybody?" I asked.

"We're never busy on Monday nights and the Bills are playing a night game. Things will pick up later," she told me.

"What's the deal?" I asked indicating the three guys at the pool table.

"Don't know. Never seen them before," she replied.

The three hustlers were playing eight ball. Two of them played each other and the winner took on the bystander who paid for the next game. It didn't take long before the odd man out, a tall drink of water with a military haircut, tight t-shirt, his own version of skinny jeans and cowboy boots noticed me at the bar. He pointed me out to the others and headed my way.

"You're about to get company," said Jib and he moved to the end of the bar where he kept his black, solid ash, baseball bat. I turned my stool to face the bar and waited.

Tex headed instead toward Jib. He ordered a Yuengling lager and stood facing me holding the bottle. He made up his mind and moved toward me.

"Hi beautiful," he opened. "I've never seen you here before."

I turned my head in his direction. "Actually, I've never seen you here before," I said.

"Ouch," he said. "You got me. I guess that was the wrong opening line."

"Every line is the wrong opening line," I replied.

"Shit lady, I'm just tryin' to be friendly."

"Try again," I said.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Cole," and he held out his hand.

"Better," I said as I shook his hand with my fingers. "Shane. Nice to meet you Tex."

"Tex?" he wondered.

"Jeans and boots. Tex is more appropriate than Cole."

"Tex it is then." He looked at my furry top. "Maybe I should call you Kitten?"

"You could but it would shorten this conversation," I replied.

"Shane it is. No compromises?"

"No compromises," I agreed.

"You look hot in that top," he said.

"Would you like to clarify that statement?" I asked.

"I mean, you look overheated."

"Oh. I thought you were being impertinent."

"Impertinent?"

"That's a five-dollar word for stupid."

I could see his testosterone flooded mind working.

"I didn't mean anything derogatory. I just thought you might be uncomfortable in that jacket."

"Oooo. You have your own five-dollar words."

Tex laughed. "You do look a little overheated."

"You have a solution?" I asked.

He paused for a moment. Undecided about his next move. "I do," he finally said and reached for the zipper on my top. Jib reached for his bat.

I put up my hand to wave Jib off and waited. Tex grabbed the zipper and pulled it down about three quarters of the way. The top opened and revealed the center of my black bra. Tex stood there, either disbelieving what he had done or planning his next move.

While we were talking, his mates finished their game and were standing with cues in hand watching us.

"It looks like it's your turn," I said and indicated the waiting players.

"I have to go but I lose quickly. Wait for me?" he asked.

"I'll consider it," I said.

Tex returned to his game and Jib came up to talk to me.

"I think I'll play some pool, I said as I stood up from my stool. Jib slipped me some quarters, I finished my drink, sipped the water and headed for the pool table. "This should be interesting," said Jib behind me.

The slight breeze as I walked opened my unzipped top slightly. My breasts moved gently as I walked the twenty feet to the pool table. Three pair of eyes watched my every step. One of the players elbowed Tex and grinned.

I put the quarters on the edge of the table and watched for three minutes as Tex managed to lose the game in progress.

Tex welcomed me and introduced me to Baker and Slinger. The names made sense later when I learned that Baker worked early each morning in the Stroehmann bakery in Olean and Slinger was a fast order cook at a diner in midtown.

"Partners?" suggested Tex.

Nobody disagreed. "I've got Shane," he added.

"Whatever," I said as I put the quarters in the table and racked the balls.

Baker broke and nothing fell. Tex missed an easy side pocket drop on the three ball.

Slinger wasn't much better. I called "Solids" and cleared the table finishing with an easy two-cushion bank shot on the eight ball in the corner.

With the hierarchy clearly established, I asked, "Another?"

Nobody thought that was a good idea.

Tex did have another idea though. "Let's take this outside," he suggested.

I looked at the three of them. They were younger than I was, full of spunk and looked clean. "What the hell," I thought. "I clearly have them outnumbered and, between them, they might give me a good workout."

Outside, I put one arm inside Baker's arm and the other inside Slinger's. I didn't bother zipping up my top. "Where to?" I asked. I wasn't offering my place. At least not this time.

"I don't live too far from here," offered Tex.

"Sounds good," I said.

We walked past my building, turned a corner and walked two more blocks. Tex's building was a four-story affair with what looked like four apartments on each floor. We walked inside. There were fifteen mailboxes in the foyer, three apartments on the ground floor. The elevator was small. We all crammed in and more than one of them used the opportunity to press their bodies into my breasts. The elevator was very slow but we only had to go to the second floor.

Tex's place was remarkably neat and clean. There was none of the furniture cobbled together from crates, pallets and wire spools that I expected. It looked more like Ikea's version of mid century modern.

"Drinks?" asked Tex when we were all inside.

"Got any GlenDronach?" I asked.

"What?" asked Tex.

"I'll take a beer," I said. I sat in the center of a sofa that looked like it might convert to a futon, with my knees about ten inches apart and leaving room on each side, while I waited.

While he went for the drinks, Tex lost the chance to sit next to me. When he returned, he handed each of us a Miller Lite, looked unhappy, and sat in a chair next to the sofa. I popped the top on the can and drained the beer in two swallows, not that I was thirsty, nervous or showing off. I wanted to free my hands.

I handed the empty can to Baker and put a hand on his knee. Slinger noticed, so I put my other hand on his knee. Tex looked at us sadly. After all, as odd man out, he had taken the chance to introduce himself to me and, here he was, odd man out again.

"So guys," I asked, "What's on the agenda?"

Nobody had the courage to respond. I think they were all confused. After all, what woman with her top hanging open, D sized breasts and painted on jeans advertising her pussy lips ever made things so easy. What they didn't know, I wasn't looking for easy. I was looking for hard.

I could feel the muscles in my seatmate's thighs tense when I asked, so I made things worse, or clearer, if you'd like. I moved both hands slowly up the inside of their thighs until I reached their crotches. Tex was envious as hell. I watched his Adam's apple bob up and down in his throat as he tried to swallow the saliva missing from his dry mouth.

I realized that I was going to have to take control of this party if I wanted to get home before breakfast. I patted and squeezed the stiffening packages on either side of me and stood up. I pushed the faux oak table in front of the sofa to the side of the room and stood in front of Tex. I put out my hands, he stood up and I directed him to the seat in the center of the sofa I recently abandoned.

The audience was in place. It was time to start the show. I turned on the light in the kitchen and closed the door part way. I turned off the overhead light in the living room. The room was a little darker than I wanted. They had to be able to see something, so I opened the kitchen door until the lighting was perfect.

I stood in front of them. Their eyes were wide open, their pupils dilated, they weren't blinking and barely breathing. I ran my hands over the outside of my furry top and over my breasts. Several times. I finished unzipping my top and ran my hands over my breasts again inside the top. Several more times. Nobody moved when I removed my furry top and tossed it to Tex.

I love my black push-up bra. It's a thing of beauty. It covers most of my breasts 'til just above my areola and makes my already large breasts look even larger, as if that was possible. It's a perfect complement for my breasts, which I consider my best asset. The guys love them and I love that they love them. The guys on the sofa in front of me weren't any different. I looked forward to playtime.

Without my top, I held my breasts in my hands and pushed them up further. I had their attention. I wet a finger in my mouth and rubbed it on my left nipple under the bra. I made sure to leave my nipple covered but the top of my areola exposed when I removed my hand. I did the same with my other nipple.

I moved in front of Tex, turned around and sat on his knees. He's not the brightest bulb in the string but he understood what I wanted. He unhooked my bra. I stood up and returned to my place in front of them, holding my bra in place. I wet a finger in my mouth and rubbed it on my left nipple again under the bra. This time, when I removed my hand, the bra fell away from my breast and my shinny wet nipple.

The trio in front of me suddenly remembered to breathe. They inhaled so deeply that I swear I could feel the oxygen in the room decrease. I didn't bother teasing them further. I dropped the bra and tossed it to Tex. I watched as he sucked up the heat from my bra with his hands while he watched as I balanced and tossed my breasts in front of him with my hands.

I stood in front of Baker and waited. He looked blankly at me. Tex may not have been the brightest bulb but he wasn't the dimmest. I finally had to tell Baker, "Your turn." He face lit up in understanding. He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and pulled it off over his head. His chest didn't look as ripped as Tex's but he was no slouch. I followed with Slinger who didn't need prompting. He had his shirt off almost before I stood in front of him.

I stood in front of Tex, had him stand up and I removed his shirt for him. He was beaming as he sat down and looked at Baker and then Slinger with an air of superiority.

It was time to remove my shoes. I put one foot in Tex's lap and he quickly slipped off my black flat shoe. I followed with my other foot and he was equally adept in removing my other shoe. I removed Baker's shoes for him. He was wearing laced work boots and it took me some time to unlace them, pull them off and remove the athletic socks underneath. Slinger's deck shoes slipped off quickly. I took my time with Tex's boots. They were clearly a prized procession so I treated them with respect. He was wearing silk boot liners underneath and I slipped them off, folded them neatly and handed them to him.

It was decision time. I was wearing nothing under my jeans. But, if I wasn't mistaken, they all were wearing something under their jeans. I wanted to level the playing field a little before the big reveal. When they first saw my pussy, I didn't want a long wait while they finished undressing.

I stood Baker up. I wasn't surprised he needed prompting. It wasn't clear what I wanted from him. I put his hands on his belt buckle and made motions indicating her should open it. Even a dim bulb casts some light. He caught on and I stood back as he unbuckled his belt, opened his jeans and unzipped the fly. He pushed the jeans down to his thighs revealing blue briefs. I pushed him back on the sofa and finished the job for him. I held his jeans upside down in front of him. His car keys fell out of a pocket along with a folding knife. I set the jeans on the floor next to him.

Slinger needed no motivation after seeing Baker's dim bulb. By the time I got in front of him, he was standing and had the hardware of his jeans already undone. He pushed his jeans down his legs and sat down in his shorts. I helped him out of his jeans and put them on the floor next to him.

Tex was standing in front of the sofa waiting for me except he had made no attempt to remove his jeans. I smiled at him. He smiled at me. "What the hell," I thought. "I'll do it. He deserves it."

I unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped his fly. I grabbed his tight jeans at his hips and pulled down. I had miscalculated. Tex wasn't wearing any underwear. He was commando and erect. I laughed at his reveal. One for him. Nice surprise. Nice cock. I reached out and stroked it twice, leaned over, kissed it lightly on its head and moved back to the center of the room leaving him to struggle with removing the rest of his pants.

Slinger took note of Tex and with an audible, "What the hell?" he wiggled out of his boxers. Baker followed suit with his briefs. I stood in front of them with their erections waving in the cool air. They were quite similar. Nothing to write home about but no losers either. I licked my lips and looked forward to the rest of the evening.

I had planned to be naked first to tease them while I took off their Fruit of the Looms. Now I was the only one not naked and it was time to rectify the situation. I waited while Tex struggled with removing his tight jeans and sat down. I stood in front of them. I unbuttoned, unzipped and pushed the right side of my jeans down an inch on my hips. I pushed the left side down the same and then an additional inch. Back on the right side, I pushed my jeans down another inch. My jeans were now down two inches below where they had been.

I bent over, my breasts hanging in front of me, and tugged the legs of my jeans down and smoothed them so I could remove them more easily when the time came. The jeans had stretched since I had put them on and sliding them down was easier than I anticipated. "Holy shit," Baker whispered. I loved his opinion and I held my breasts in both hands as I stood up.

Two inches later, my jeans were balanced on my hips, only a brief push or two away from falling from my body. The very top of my pubic landing strip was visible and the bottoms of my jeans were gathered around my ankles. I'm sure a significant length of the chasm between my ass cheeks was also exposed. I loved my pubic hair and I preferred to wear it proudly like a complete woman but the complaints from lovers having loose pubic hair in their mouths and between their teeth and the unromantic sound of them spitting the hairs out convinced me to make a change. I compromised by fashioning a wide landing strip above my clitoris and shaving everything in the business district.

I sat on the floor in front of Tex, lifted my legs into his lap and raised my ass off the floor with both arms. Tex took the bottoms of my jeans in his hands and pulled. My jeans slipped off as he pulled. As soon as my feet were free of my jeans, I lowered my ass and used my hands to hold my legs up and apart. I looked between my legs and saw Baker and Slinger's heads leaning over Tex and all three of them staring at my damp and swollen pussy.

"Fuck," said Slinger followed by Baker's "Jesus," proving once again that sex is a religious experience. Every time I found myself in this position, I reminded myself of how important constant exercise was in maintaining the perfect condition of my labia and vagina. "Use it or lose it," was my mantra.

I got up off the floor and led the trio of erections into the bedroom. Tex's king sized bed was a pleasant surprise. Tex got into the bed first and moved to the center. I climbed in between his legs, gave him my most radiant smile and put my mouth around his cock. Baker walked around the bed and got on the bed beside me while Slinger did the same on the other side. I kept my ass low as I worked on Tex's erection. I wasn't ready for either Slinger or Baker to discover the pleasures of kneeling behind me, yet.