tagHumor & SatireThe Salesman

The Salesman


No experience necessary, will train the right individual. Neat appearance, outgoing personality and a desire to succeed, commission paid daily the ad read. Having made and lost a small fortune in the real-estate business before the bubble burst and recently laid off from the local Chrysler dealership, I was in search of a job. A week had passed and I had not sold a fucking thing. I had countless doors slammed in my face, and called everything but a saint. I was having a midlife crisis at thirty-five. My nerves were on edge, I'd lost weight and at 5'10" I looked skinny at 170 pounds. When you wake up someone 6'5" 240 pounds or so, and are caught standing in his doorway trying to sell his wife something, and he shouts "get the hell out of her or I'm gonna shove that up you ass," a light should go on. Maybe selling dildos door to door was a little bold, but what's a guy to do if doesn't know how to use a computer, I needed a different approach.

I just couldn't tell my girl friend Rachel what my new job was. No I chose to lie, I was selling exercise equipment. She was excited because she is a fitness nut. The thought of getting exercise equipment at cost, already had me on the hook for a couple of grand due to my untruthfulness. A new treadmill was being delivered tomorrow. She even offered to tell her work-out friends to help me out. In spite of my objections, here I was knocking on Carols door, sales case in hand. Carol and Rachel graduated from college together, physical education majors. They could have passed as sisters they looked so much alike. Both 5'2" 105 pounds, same measurements 34-22-34, Rachel was a redhead and Carol a blond, they were 28 years old. "Oh hi Randy, I'm excited to see you. Come on in and make yourself at home." Carol and I had gotten to be pretty good friends over the years. Her husband Dave was a geology professor and was off on a dig for the summer. "Well Randy let's see what you have, I was thinking maybe a stationary bike, what do you think?"

"Carol, I don't know quite how to tell you this, but I don't sell exercise equipment."

"I don't understand Randy, if you don't sell exercise equipment then what's in the case you have?"

"I can't tell you anymore than I could tell Rachel."

"Randy, we've been friends a long time, you can tell me anything."

"Well I guess you could call what I have would be considered marital aids."

"I want to see, open it up," she giggled.

My hands were shaking as I bent over for the case which I set on the coffee table. I was all thumbs as I fumbled with the latches. "Here let me help you, oh my God, I've never seen anything like this before" Carol gasped, as she lifted a hefty ten inch dong from the case. "It's so life like, it feels like the real thing, this is a serious piece of exercise equipment Randy." "I've always wondered what a big cock like this would feel like Randy, how much for this bad boy?"

"That's the Dream Dick and goes for around thirty dollars, we also have the Perfect Pecker which is the same only chocolate."

"Oooh, I love chocolate, I'll buy it right now on one condition."

"I, I, I don't know Carol, the Perfect Pecker is not for beginners," I stammered.

"I know, that's why I want you to break me in slowly with it. If it's what I think it's going to be, I know how we can sell a million, now come on." Carol grabbed my hand and off to the bedroom the three of us went.

"I think we better ba ba bathe Mr. Perfect first," I stuttered.

"Go ahead Randy, I'll get undressed and be waiting for that bad boy. Hurry I'm on fire just thinking about it."

When I returned to the bedroom Carol was on her back, legs bent and spread, fondling her blonde bush. I was rock hard and envious of Mr. Perfect. I was about to drive him to depths no man had been before inside of Carol. I applied an ample amount of lubricant to him and slowly slid the head between Carols pussy's hungry lips as her hand guided him home. An inch, then two, three, then a slow retreat, a little deeper on the next stroke, four and then the half way mark. Now Carol's body arched and shook in orgasm. Several more shallow strokes, and another inch deeper, another retreat a few more strokes and into no mans land.

Carol was cumming again and this time she was begging for more, "fuck me deeper she cried." "I want every inch I paid for," and at that she arched up and swallowed Mr. Perfects last two inches. "Oh God, I'm going again, stroke that cock long and deep in me" she screamed. A half hour later, totally exhausted and unable to speak Carol had enough as she motioned me to stop. After a few minutes she sat up.

"We're having a dildo party this weekend Randy, I'll invite all my girlfriends, and you'll be set."

"That's a great idea Carol, that just might work but don't invite Rachel," I exclaimed.

Saturday night I showed up an hour early at Carols. I was taken to the pool area and instructed to dump all of the dildos into the hot tub. The idea was to give an empty box to each participant. The object was to retrieve the dildo that matched your box, using only your mouth. After all dildos were retrieved they were allowed to trade. Needless to say it was funny to watch, especially when they were trying to retrieve a foot long black one named the Destroyer, of which there were six in the tub. Before the night was over I had sold every toy in my case, and had orders for dozens more. Most all wanted at least two each. They would all require delivery and each agreed to have a party.

Several months passed and I was selling dildos like hot-dogs at a baseball game, when Rachel confronted me. It was a Sunday morning, and I had been out late doing another party and was peacefully asleep when I was awaken by a strike to the head. "Just what the hell is this Randy," Rachel screamed. My eyes straining to focus I was shocked to see the Destroyer in Rachel's hand.

"Huh, I can explain Rachel, just let me wake up," I pleaded.

"Here let me help you," and with that came another blow to the head as I sat up.

In an adrenaline induced outburst I shouted, "that's a dildo, the Destroyer, and I'm the top salesman in the company!" "Well that's just outstanding Randy, how long were you planning on keeping me in the dark? Never mind, don't answer that, I would much rather hear your sales pitch" she hissed. "You can sell me this, what did you call it, the Destroyer? Sell me this big black dildo Randy, come on, I want you to make me want to buy it."

"I can't sell you that, it's an extreme sex toy, and it isn't for beginners, I mumbled."

"Well then sell me this one," and she slung the Perfect Pecker onto the bed from my sales case. "I'm waiting on that sales pitch Randy, kitty got your tongue?"

"Okay, just remember, you asked for it. The Perfect Pecker is appropriately named as you shall see, and I might add, will give you hours upon hours of deeply fulfilling orgasms. It's a top seller, and believe me, I've had no complaints. A bit much for a first timer so you have to go slow at first. The texture feels like the real thing, it's called cyber skin. It's washable, it's ready when you are, no worry of STD's. It doesn't bitch at you, or drink beer and lay around watching football. It's not going to fuck your best friend or kick you out or leave you. It comes with a suction cup attached to the life size balls, and a generous seven inches of insert-able fat chocolate cock. Stick it on the wall in the shower, for some wet and wild pleasure, or on a coffee table and ride it like a bucking stallion."

I could see now, just like all the other women, I had her attention. I opened the box and pulled out the Perfect Pecker and as I handed it to her, I said, "I bet in the dark you can't tell the difference." She, just like the others took it in her hands, and exclaimed as her fingers trembled and stroked it, "God it's big and kinda heavy, I can't believe the detail, the veins, and nice head, and the color is pleasing." I could see her nipples beginning to harden beneath the see through top she was wearing, and a damp spot on her panties gave her pussy away.

"Oh if you would prefer a white one, I have one called the Dream Dick, identical to the one your holding."

"No thanks, how about a test drive with this one," came her reply.

"I was hoping you would say that, secretly knowing her answer would be no different than hundreds of her peers, first let me wash him up for you." "Why don't you come back to bed and get ready for the orgasm of the future."

When I returned from the bathroom the shades had been drawn shut and a candle lit above the head board revealed Rachel fingering herself in the dim glow. "Hurry honey, I'm dying to feel that big chocolate cock buried deep in my tight pussy," Rachel whispered seductively.

"Remember we have to start out slowly," I reminded her. I could feel her wetness as I slid my hand and the Perfect Pecker into position. Slowly the massive head parted her lips, her body tensed and seemed to shake. "Relax and take a deep breath it will be easier," I encouraged. As I applied pressure Rachel eagerly arched up to take it in. The head disappeared, followed by an inch, then two, slowly three and then the halfway point, I stopped. She was trembling now, I backed out all but the head, then fed the three and a half inches back, and again a retreat, I repeated this several more times and she erupted in orgasmic delight. Now I drove the cock a little deeper, four inches and a couple of strokes, five inches and several more strokes.

"Oh God Damn, I'm cumming again Randy."

"Good, we're just getting started," I responded, as I fed six inches of cum glistening chocolate cock into her now hungry pussy. A rhythm was starting to develop, as she bucked wildly and sucked the remaining inch into her now cock filled depths.

"Oh, damn it's good, I'm cumming my brains out. I want to do this the rest of the day," Rachel moaned in ecstasy. "Fuck me harder and deeper with that big cock, I love the fullness in my pussy." Over the course of the day she screamed and squirmed, writhed and ranted in one incoherent blissful orgasm after the other.

Just before passing out from total exhaustion, she managed to say, "I have to confess, Carol called me the very first day you went to her house. Why did you lie to me about your job honey, don't you know you can tell me anything?" "By the way, that Perfect Pecker was appropriately named, I thought for sure I was fucking Willie our gardener, I couldn't tell the difference."

I thought about what she had just said, I guess honesty is the best policy, though I would've preferred she lied.

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