Job Security Ch. 01bySyndee©
Chapter 1: The Beginning
About ten years ago my husband and I were fully entrenched in the American way of life. David was a couple of years older than me, had a great middle management job with a software firm that employed about 200 people, we had a two year old son and a nice home in a really great neighborhood. I had been able to quit work and stay at home. The problem was we were fully extended and was totally dependent on all of his income.
When the firm lost one of their larger accounts it was no secret that something had to happen personnel wise. It wasn't so much that there were to be layoffs, but more that somebody was going to have to step down a little or be transferred out of state. Either one would have killed us. I felt that with his education and track record he didn't have to worry. He reminded me that he wasn't the only one with those credentials and that all of this would eventually come down to something personal with the owners of the company rather than job performance. I realized he was right. This company was loaded with talent.
Danny, the owner of the company, was in his early forties and had a wife that looked 10 years younger than him. They were very wealthy from hard work and his brilliant mind and were both the nicest and most attractive people you would ever want to meet. Very generous with pay and benefits, they almost doted over their employees and were very quick and generous with hugs and kisses. Everybody absolutely loved them and turnover in the company was non-existent.
We think the owners could feel the tension in the middle ranks about the job situation, so they threw sort of a "we're all okay" party at a nice local hotel. Their functions were always super and expensive in a down home sort of way. They were quick to be part of the service rather than king and queen of the ball. I got myself ready that night all the way to the point of actually putting on my clothes. We had a young babysitter coming in and I got her situated before I finished dressing. Due to our financial instability, I had opted not to buy anything new, but instead found a real nice dress I had in the closet for several years that I didn't think anyone had seen. It was light green, had a low cut neckline that fit pretty tight so there was not much to see down, and a loose skirt that fell about four inches above my knee.
When I started to put it on I discovered that I blew it and had no panty hose to wear. We were pressed for time by then and I surely didn't want to expose the natural color of my legs since it was early April. After a quick digging through my room I came up with a pair of thigh high light brown hose that would do. I was a little concerned about the top of my hose being too close to the bottom of the skirt, but my choices were nil. Since I wasn't wearing pantyhose I chose to wear a real nice pair of black tap pants instead of panties that were very comfortable and made me feel sexy.
When we arrived at the party it was pretty well in full swing. It was in a large covered patio area with a small stage set up for some reason in front of dining tables. Way in the back there was a small horseshoe bar almost chest high to me that had only a very small side entrance area to it. They were only serving beer and wine and you can guess whom the bartenders were-the owners. I think they did it to make sure they could at least say hello to everyone. I would like to tell you that I really stuck out from the crowd but I didn't. There were lots of attractive employees and spouses there. If you were to have to name the company for a town it would have to be "Yuppie City." They all looked good, but certainly none more than Marty, the boss's wife.
After I had my glass and we had made a few rounds visiting, Marty quietly waved me over and motioned for me to come behind the bar. She gave me a big hug and asked me to do her a big favor.
"All of this bartending seemed to be a good idea at first but it's a big mistake. It's all right for him to be here, but I need to be out milling with the guest and making sure the proceedings are on schedule. Could you do me a huge favor and work the bar for a while."
"Sure, I'd love to." I'd given a hand at some of their events in the past and besides, what was I to say?
"There's nothing to it. All you're going to do is fill some glasses and greet people you already know." With that, she apologized for intruding on my evening and went into the crowd. She was right. I knew I would see everyone and my husband was already circulating with the men so I didn't mind it at all. Besides, it just wasn't a real prime time to say no.
"Oh, I can't believe I got so lucky as to share duties with you." Danny acted like he was thrilled to see me, gave me a big long hug and a quick soft kiss on the cheek. I gave it little thought, started serving and had a really great time.
Dinner was actually a wonderful finger food buffet. He was very gracious and brought us both plates back with way too much food. We had one small bar stool which I could hardly sit on and still see, but he could with his shoulders coming above the bar. I stood while I ate, but that was okay. It was a small space and very shortly after I had gone in there he started touching me casually, an arm around the waist, a hand on my hip as he had to reach around me, ever now and than a slight brushing of my breast. It became more evident as it went on, but I chose not to pay a lot of attention to it. I knew he was a touchy kind of person and it would have been awkward to say or do anything.
I just made sure I didn't do anything. It came to the point that when there was nobody around his arm was always around me, his hand constantly on my hip, and when I sat on the stool his hands were on my knees, sometimes massaging them slowly. He never said anything off color or made a gesture that frightened me, just small intimate stuff. Even as concerned as I was, it got to the point where I'm not too sure I wasn't starting to enjoy his attention.
After everybody ate and the place was clean, the personnel director got up on the stage and made a few jokes, recognized the owners and a few others and said there was a surprise. And there was. They had brought in a magician that was wonderful. Everybody had pretty well filled their glasses or stopped drinking and moved close to the stage and sat down.
"I hope you don't abandon me back here by myself. I still need to man the bar even though I think business is dead. We can still see good from back here." Marty was laughing, but I took it pretty seriously. We were way in back of the area and the touching had become more frequent. I was hoping to be rescued by my husband, but I noticed he managed to sit at the table with Marty, so things were going good for him.
"Sure, I won't desert you at your time of crisis." I laughed with him. What else was I going to do?
The guy on the stage was really good and captivated the audience. I stood behind the bar and watched while Danny sat on the stool. I don't think anybody that bothered to look could see anything lower than our shoulders. About five minutes into the act and when everybody was obviously not going to move, he moved down off the stool and the gently touching resumed. It was around the waist at first, just rubbing the lower part of my back, sliding his hand down on my hips some, back up the full length of my back, and so on. It actually felt good, but I was really starting to wonder where this was going and was preparing myself to stop it somehow.
Sure enough, he slipped his hand around the front of me and gently started touching my stomach. I pulled away slightly, and he stopped. I assumed he had the idea and that it had come to an end. Instead, he took advantage of the very confined area, which kept me at an arms length. Again he made an advance, running his hand slowly up and down my leg outside my skirt for a few minutes, not roughly but very casually. Then the hand dropped below the hem to touch my legs. I knew for sure then I had a situation and didn't know what to do.
"Danny, please." I whispered to him quietly. I tried stepping away but his left arm was around my waist and he didn't let go. However, he did cease touching me elsewhere.
My relief was intense, but temporary. To my dismay his hand slowly returned, rubbing my right leg. His hand moved down my leg and touched my knee at first but then started to move up. He was in no hurry and may have been trying to not alarm me any more than I was. My heart was beating like crazy and I could tell he had become intense. I took his hand and removed it from me, stepping away as far as I could in the confined space.
"Stop, Danny. I think I should go." I was hoping the look I gave him was enough to end it.
It took him less than a minute to react. Never taking his eyes off the proceedings going on in front of us, he carefully slid his stool over next to me. Unwittingly, I had trapped myself in the small confines of the bar. The only way out was to go over the top of him.
His arm went back around my waist and this time he didn't try to mask his intentions. He went straight down to my knee with his hand. In order to grab it I had to lean over slightly. I kept looking around to see if we were being watched but all attention was on the stage. Feeling like a trapped animal, my heart was beating fast and tears began to form in my eyes. How had I gotten into this? What had I done or said that would make him think I would allow him to do this?
My reactions and self-examination didn't stop his hand. In spite of my hand trying to stop his, it had very slowly continued its advance up my leg. He suddenly reached the top of my stockings and his hand hit my bare leg. I guess he had expected me to be wearing panty hose and the sudden contact of flesh on flesh caught him by surprise.
"O-o-o-o-h." His hand jerked and there was an audible gasp. He looked at me and his mouth sagged slightly. The unexpected flesh on flesh contact had definitely moved him.
I flinched, too. Even though he had been touching me for some time, it was different when his hand actually touched my flesh. I was in a combination of shock and dismay by that time. My three thoughts were where is this going, how do I ever get out of it, and why am I not as repulsed as I should be? I know that he was a really attractive, wonderful man, but he had no rights to me. However, he had a really slow, soft wonderful touch and I was feeling every bit of it. I have a tendency to become wet very easy and if it had been my husband sitting there teasing me in public I would have been soaking wet by this time.
As it was, through my constant but quiet objections and my ever increasing attempt to dislodge his hand I was more than aware of the reaction from my body. Whether my morals objected or not, I knew myself well enough to know that the moisture was forming. My disapproval of the situation didn't change the fact that I could feel it. This was not going well at all!
That old saying, "The silence was deafening," would have fit us perfectly. I was screaming at him to stop without saying a word and he was telling me how excited he was without speaking, relating it to me through his now shaking fingertips.
The magician kept captivating the audience, we stood back there as if it was the only thing going on, and his hands were slowly going higher and higher, touching every part of my right leg. There were slight touches with the other leg, but only a few brushes. He concentrated on that one leg, moving slowly up. It was starting to become a blissful torture for me. I was rocking my body back and forth a little, either in an effort to get away or an unwanted reaction instinctively keeping in rhythm with his touches. His arm had tightened considerable around my waist. I could only hear my heart and his breathing and don't think by that time I could see anything. We had both forgotten about the magician long ago and were only looking to see if anyone was coming near us, which they did not. How could I have allowed this to happen?
"Please, Danny. I don't want this." My voice was breaking with a soft sob. I was still leaning over in order to keep my grasp on his wrist, but his hand had advanced high enough that my bent over position was less noticeable than before.
He smiled softly and said, "Okay," but his hand remained high on my leg. After what seemed like an hour, but was only a few minutes, his hand went under my loose panties and slightly touched me, sliding his finger between my labia. As I suspected, I was very wet. He said "Oh, my goodness," very softly as he touched me and my knees sort of buckled. At that point it was a war of wills. He started brushing me with his fingertips, feeling the dampness and apparently enjoying my attempt to stop him. He teased me unmercifully before he moved to my clit.
"O-o-o-h-h-h." No matter how upset I was or had anticipated this move, I jumped and let out a real low moan that he had to have heard. I had somehow become extremely sensitive there.
He was masterful. His touch was knowing and unbelievable soft. He brought me up to a level I couldn't believe and just left me hanging there for a long time. Despite the fact that I started slowly stamping my foot up and down to try to drive off the sensations, my hips were moving with his hand and I was ready to explode.
I looked up one last time to see if there was a rescue in progress. Since there was obviously not, I pleaded one more time. "Please, Danny. Don't do this to me." It was very soft and quiet, my last stand, more emotional than physical as I finally released his wrist.
Finally, it came. I put my head down on my arms to stifle the sounds when it hit me. My hips went from following his hand to jerking like crazy and I was moving up and down and twisting behind the bar. Using his left hand, he pulled my dress behind me and up to my waist and held it there. This allowed him to watch the action, my legs and panties exposed. My white legs were in stark contrast to the dark colors of my hose and panties.
"Ni-i-i-c-c-e," His voice was appreciative. "Not enough women wear stockings any more." I could feel his erection as he pressed against me.
He kept it up for a few minutes and I knew I was on my way to coming again. I couldn't seem to stop it. Just as he slowed down and I thought it was over, his hand left my clit and his finger went inside me. It was like it was starting all over again. Danny sensed my total surrender. "Relax and enjoy it, Syndee. You look and feel so good."
It wasn't so much that I was following his instructions, but more that my mind couldn't control the physical part of me any more. Folding my arms over the edge of the bar, I put my head face down on it, started gently stomping my foot again as my body convulsed, and started to come. The orgasm washed over me like a flood rather than a light rain.
"A-a-a-h-h-h-h," my mouth moaned softly into my folded arms. Nobody could hear it but him, but he heard very well. All gentleness disappeared and he assaulted my pussy fast and hard. From the sounds coming out of him, he was immersed with personal satisfaction from watching and hearing my reactions to his touch.
Other than looking up occasionally to survey the room, my thoughts were only on his fingers. My repulsion of the situation was gone. My conscience-vanished! The only thing I was aware of was the constant high-speed ramming my pussy was getting, then the short trip they would make up to my swollen clit for a while, then back down and in, roughly entering in long strokes. I was caught in the middle, had no control over it, and he wouldn't stop.
Suddenly, I realized the show was over. Luckily, no one had come near us but rather gathered towards the stage. Danny slowly (maybe reluctantly) moved his hands away from me, allowing me to come down off my high. He never tried to talk to me during all of this, maybe thinking it would spoil it. Once I was able to regain my composure, I got a quick kiss on the cheek from him and a knowing hug and that was it. When he turned away I saw him lick his fingers.
Shortly after that Marty came over, gave me a huge hug and kiss and thanked me for helping. She just gushed over how nice I had been. When we went home David thanked me profusely for being sensitive to the situation. Surprisingly, we had super sex that night, with him remarking about and enjoying how wet I was. I woke up the next morning very confused. I was caught with mixed feelings of guilt and pleasure, but also knew that I certainly hadn't hurt my husband's job any. It was a real blow to my morals and self-respect, but I knew it was a one-time mistake on my part that would never happen again. Or so I thought.
THE POOL PARTY
I wasn't at all happy about what had happened and was more than a little concerned about whether Danny was going to keep all this to himself. I sure didn't want to be the subject of office gossip and it would have been devastating to my family. But as time wore on a little and it was evident that he had more to lose than me, I became a little more comfortable with it. Plus, I got hand written thank you notes from both of them for giving a hand. It even got to the point that when I thought back about it I sometimes would touch myself, not always to orgasm but certainly to a nice pleasurable level. It was, in fact, a mental rather than physical ordeal and I felt I could deal with that under the circumstances. And it had felt wonderful, right or wrong.
As far as my husband's work was concerned, things started happening just as we had anticipated. One of my husband's counterparts was transferred to Los Angeles in order to stay employed. He left before his wife, and I happened to drop by her house just as they were being packed out. She told me that they had been treated as fair as possible, with the company paying for moving and some closing cost. However, when we were out of the earshot of the moving men she started tearing up and said that it was killing them financially in that they had to sell the house without getting any cash out of it and there was no way they could buy a house in LA on what he got paid. They were moving into a real nice apartment, but no home. I went away from the visit with a new fear that I could not shake. It may not have happened to us, but it had happened to SOMEBODY and it was going to happen again.
Weeks later, we received a formal invitation for a late night fireworks party on the 4th of July at the owners house. Since most of us had children, they were nice about it and said they knew not everybody could come, but there would be some important guests there they would appreciate as much participation as possible. The 4th was on a Sunday that year with Monday the day off from work. We quickly decided to be there and let them know. We still thought this was no time to take chances. We were told about 50 would attend, plus the guests.
That weekend was spent with my family not far away and we left our son there to be picked up Monday. When we started to get dressed for the party there wasn't so much of a decision about what to wear. Bathing suit. I looked at what I had and put on the one I thought would be most appropriate for the occasion. It was very conservative, covering all of my buttocks and not too low up top. As I was looking at myself in the mirror, David came by and said "You look good, Granny, " laughed and walked on. I got the picture. I went back into the closet and brought out a black one that I had bought on sale late last year but had never worn. I put it on and admitted I did look good. The low cut top showed my breast well and the bottom was cut high on the hips so that I was showing generously without being obscene. I was concerned about it until we got there and I saw what the other women were wearing. Lots of skin, two piece jobs, etc. The boss's wife was wearing a two-piece white suit I would never have had the nerve to put on. She was a knockout in it and the attention she got could not be ignored. I was glad I had changed into something a little more provocative. David was right. I would have looked like somebody's sister.