Future of Porn

“Author’s Note: This is the first part of a four-part story. If you are looking for a quickie “stroke and cum” story you might want to select something else to read. For those who enjoy plot and character development and a long build-up to a rousing conclusion, please feel free to follow along this special tale.”

Mitchell couldn’t remember exactly the first time he had seen Emily, but he could certainly remember the first time he noticed her. Sure, there was the first time they met but that hardly counts. He was so concerned that day with only the basic necessities, food, shelter, warmth, and his kids. The way he looked upon her then was far, far different from the way he looked at her now. Was it the day after her … or was it the day before? But wait, I’m already jumping ahead of the story and really need to go back to the beginning. Let’s start a little over a year ago, when it was almost fall and Mitchell was sitting on his backyard deck having a beer with his old friend, Stuart.

* * *

“So what are you going to do, Mitch?” Stuart asked calmly and rationally. “You’ve got a business trip coming up next month. You can’t leave your kids home alone.”

“I know … I know,” Mitchell replied with a resigned exasperation. He leaned his tall broad-shouldered frame forward and ran a hand through his sandy brown hair. It felt as if the there were a pair of 16-ton weights hanging on his shoulders. But his shoulders were broad and he squared them up immediately.

“So what are you going …” Stuart began to say but was cut off abruptly.

“I KNOW!” Mitchell said sharply. “I’ll come up with something. I always do. You know me. Mr. Resourceful.” He looked over at his old friend long and hard. Stuart was shorter and younger and always livelier, but after all they had been through together, he was perhaps Mitchell’s best friend. The weight of the past few months all seemed to be crashing down on him, the unexpected passing of his wife, Angela, the sorting out of all his feelings over that and many other previous issues with her, and then working through all the necessary details that ensued all too quickly. And his kids-Mitchell’s teenaged daughter and 10-year-old son-needed help and attention every single day. Mitchell had just gotten to the point where he felt even just a little bit comfortable with his new life, the challenges, the fright, the uncertainties all inclusive. Sure he felt like he was clinging to the edge of a cliff most of the time, but at least he had a fighting chance and wasn’t joining those who had lost their grip and were tumbling into the abyss. But now the near future was poking sharply into his hard fought comfort zone.

“Hey, I’m sorry, man,” Stuart said, his apologetic feelings easily detected in the tone of his voice. “You always know that if you get stuck or anything, Allison and I can take them for a few days. They get along with our own brats pretty well. We can just toss them into a big pile and let ‘em sort it out themselves.”

“Nah, I couldn’t impose on you guys … we’ll be fine. I’ll find a sitter or something,” Mitchell said with a big sigh. Somehow he had managed. He always did. Somehow things always got done, maybe not the way he might have preferred, but they got done just the same. “It’s just that sometimes … sometimes it’s just all too much for me,” he added with a sardonic laugh. “And I had always thought that I could do it all … till now.”

“We’re here for you, man,” Stuart replied, putting his arm around Mitchell’s shoulders. “Anything, anytime.”

“Thanks!” came Mitchell’s reply. “Appreciate it!”

They had finished their beers and Mitchell walked his best friend through the house toward the front door. Stuart and Mitchell had been friends since just after college. Stuart’s wife, Allison, and Mitchell’s late wife, Angela, had become best friends for many years, and in the weeks since Angela had died, Allison had been a godsend, helping out with the kids, making sure that doctor’s appointments and trips to the dentist were kept. But the time had come for Mitchell to stand on his own, and moved away from the shelter that his good friends had all too readily provided. Before leaving, Stuart paused on the front porch for a moment.

“Say, you remember John Dole from Cub Scouts, don’t you?” Stuart asked.

“Yeah, I remember him.”

“Well, remember when he and Carrie split up? They hired a nanny for the kids. Kind of follows the kids back and forth between their houses and looks after them. Maybe you could call him and check into that.”

“Fuck! I can’t afford something like that,” Mitchell laughed. “Maybe when I make VP or something. But not now.”

“I’m telling you, buddy. Remember that last one they had … what was her name … something exotic … something like, Mary Doll … Margie Doll … something like that?”

“Sweet little blue-eyed brunette with the killer bod and sexy Danish accent?” Mitchell asked.

“Yeah, that’s her,” Stuart said with a laugh. “So you do remember her, eh?”

“Not at all!” Mitchell lied with some exaggeration. He easily remembered checking out Dole’s nanny a few times at Scout meetings and feeling just a twinge of jealousy, but just a twinge. It wasn’t like he was truly jealous because he knew that John wouldn’t dare touch the hired help due to his divorce agreement.

Stuart punched Mitchell’s shoulder sharply. “Go on! Call him, man. Maybe you can get someone short term. It’s for your kids, dude. And it would give you a chance to get out once in a while and do something for yourself too. ”

“I know, I know,” Mitchell replied. “But that has got to be so expensive. I can’t afford a fricking nanny, Stu.”

“How do you know? Time’s a wasting, Mitch,” Stuart replied. The two friends leveled their eyes together. “Speaking about wasting time, how’s your love life been treating you?”

“Love life? Ha! Like I have time for that.”

“That’s what I’m talking about, Mitch. You get yourself somebody in here to look after of the kids and you can start circulating again. Know what I mean?”

“I don’t know, Stu. I’m not sure if I can start all over again. It’s been so long …”

“What’s up with you, man? You’ve got a great opportunity here. You’re single again, you’ve got a lot going for you, and as I remember you were pretty successful with the ladies back in the day.”

“Right! When we were both twenty-somethings with nothing to lose and everything to gain. Nobody’s going to want a used up old fart like me with a couple of kids hanging around.”

“Suit yourself, Mitch,” Stuart said. “Just don’t sell yourself short. There’s somebody out there for you. But you won’t find out until you get out there and start looking. Hey, I’ve got to get going.”

With a handshake and a brief goodbye, Stuart strutted down the front walk toward his Bimmer roadster and hopped in. Mitchell remained on the front porch for a long while after his friend had roared off. He lingered to watch the colors of the sunset glow along the horizon and took a deep breath. Red light at night, sailor’s delight! The warm shading of the sunset cast a rosy glow over his neighborhood. It was a friendly place to live, an older Victorian era town with great schools, affable neighbors, and large roomy homes spaced comfortably apart. He needed to drink in as much of this good feeling as possible for he was so woefully unprepared for this single father lifestyle. Angela had always done everything with the kids, even after they had discovered her cancer, and even through all the chemo and alternative therapies, she had always done half of everything. It was only after she had died that Mitchell realized all of the things that she had always done and that now fell into his inadequate lap.

But Mitchell was determined to see this through. His kids came first in his life now; everything else would have to wait. He could do this. He would do this, no matter the circumstances or sacrifices. As he closed the front door and turned away, he heard the sound of his kids upstairs haggling over something ridiculously stupid. He quickly shifted gears into his single dad mode. “Ward Cleaver never had to deal with this,” he said aloud to himself. “Where is June when I need her?”

Then he jumped up the stairs, sorted out this latest domestic squabble, and spent the rest of the evening first making sure things were set for the kids next day at school. It took another hour or so to review his presentation to an important client the next morning, and then ended the evening making lunches for all of them before falling into bed weary and worried. What the fuck am I gonna do next month? Angela was always there when I had to go away on business. I never gave a single second thought to it, he thought. Then he remembered what Stuart had said. Maybe he should call John Dole and see what that nanny business was all about.

* * *

The next day he called up John Dole just after lunch.

“Long time, no hear, Mitch,” Dole said. “I was so sorry to hear about Angela. How are things going for you?”

“Well enough I guess,” Mitchell replied. “But that’s sort of why I was calling.”

“Oh, really?”

“Well, with my job and the kids and the house and all it’s hard to keep everything in the same sack,” Mitchell remarked.

“You’re telling me!” John exclaimed with a chuckle. “If it wasn’t for our nanny, Ludmila, I don’t know what I would do.”

“How’s that working out for you guys?” Mitchell asked with obvious interest.

“Great! She travels back and forth between Carrie’s place and mine,” Dole said. “Makes sure the kids get to and from school, do their homework, get to the doctors and dentist, the full nine yards. And she still has time for her own college work. Gives me a little time to have a social life too.”

“So how does it work?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you advertise for her or what?”

“Hell, no. We went through an agency,” Dole replied. “Actually Carrie is the one who arranges it. She does all the interviews and shit. You know, I think she picks the best looking ones just to tease me. I mean, she knows I could never screw around with the hired help, so she gets the choice ones just to spite me. Remember, Marjedahl from last year?”

“Do I ever!” Mitchell replied emphatically. “But that has to be pretty expensive.”

“Not as much as you might think,” Dole went on. “I’ll tell you, we provide room, board, tuition and a little spending money.” Dole paused for a moment and drew a breath. “So what’s this about? You thinking of getting a girl yourself?”

“Well,” said Mitchell slowly. “It’s so hard to keep up with the kids and my career and everything else that’s on the table. I was thinking …”

“Tell you what, Mitch, I’ll have Carrie get in touch with you, maybe email you the phone number of the agency we work with. I’m sure that you can work something out.”

And John followed through, good guy that he is. Mitchell was surprised to hear Carrie’s voice when she called the next day. She sounded excited.

“You’ll just love having someone to help,” Carrie remarked enthusiastically. “I don’t know what I would do without Ludmila, the one we have now. She is such a great help. I can’t imagine how you can do without someone, being a full time working parent like you.”

“It hasn’t been easy, let me tell you,” Mitchell replied. “So what do I have to do?”

“I’ll give you the number to call,” Carrie began. “You have to fill out an application and go through an interview at your home with the kids and all. Then they line up the best fits and you get to pick the one you feel would be best.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Mitchell remarked.

“It works great,” Carrie cooed. “I just love the girls that John and I have used over the years. And the kids like it too. In our case it sort of gives them a little continuity that’s missing between the two of us.”

It sounded appealing. Carrie gave him the number to call and Mitchell followed through that very afternoon. He filled out the form online and waited a few days to hear back. The agency called him in and by the time he was through, Mitchell had talked to nearly twenty different girls and women. There were some who seemed to have stepped right out of the pages of a Mary Poppins novel, all prim and proper and lacking only the fine British accent and the ability to fly. But they all seemed a little stuffy. There were some who were very young and very inexperienced. There were some who were foreign born. There were some who were very attractive, and from the way they eyed him, maybe a little too sexy to have hanging around the house.

Then there was Emily. She was very tall and quite trim, a recent college graduate with a degree in Preschool Education, currently working toward her Masters degree in developmental psychology. She was quite attractive, but not in the overtly sexual way that some of the other applicants had been. Her hair was a dark red almost chestnut in color, her eyes a dark bluish green, and her skin was lush and smooth. She came to the interview dressed conservatively and had the most endearing smile. But the moment that she met the kids was what clinched it in Mitchell’s mind, the way her smile lit up and the way his kids took to her right away, especially his son Timothy who had been a little introverted every since his mother had died. Mitchell felt so relieved when he got home that he called up Stuart and John with the news. For the first time in several weeks he was able to take a drink out onto the deck and breathe a deep sigh of relief. He looked up at the glowing sunset and thought of Angela for a moment. Then he thought of what a godsend Emily would be.

* * *

Emily started two weeks later, giving her enough time to get settled and acclimated before Mitchell left for his business trip. She moved in on a Saturday and Mitchell showed her through the living areas of the house downstairs and led her to the bedrooms upstairs. At the head of the stairway, the hall went in two directions, to the left to his master bedroom suite and to the right to the bathrooms, the kids’ rooms and the guest room.

“This is Kelly’s room, the full bath, Timothy’s room, and the spare bedroom I’ve made into an office for the kids’ computer,” Mitchell said, pointing them out as they went. “And this will be your room.”

“This is really great!” Emily said with a big smile as she walked into her new room and looked around.

Other than his suite, it was the largest of the bedrooms in the house with its own private shower and a walk-in closet. They had kept it as a guest room, but with Kelly’s help, Mitchell had done a quick makeover. Emily went quickly to the large window and looked out. From there, she had a nice view of the back yard, the deck and the swimming pool.

“You have a pool?” she squealed. “Oh, I love to swim!”

“You’ll have plenty of chances before I close it down next month,” Mitchell remarked. “In the nice weather, we practically live out there.”

“I don’t blame you. What a great yard!”

“Hope you like it,” Mitchell said, pleased by her enthusiastic response.

He stood back as she looked through the room. It was furnished with an extra-large queen-sized bed, a wide dresser with a large mirror, a tall chest of drawers and a decent writing desk. Emily ran her hand over the light maple finish of the desk.

“There’s a cable connection for television and computer,” Mitchell added.

“All the conveniences of home!” Emily said. Her large blue-green eyes were sparkling. “Thank you so much for having me.”

“Is this your first job?”

“My second,” she said softly, her look seeming to indicate that there was a story behind her little confession, but one that they might talk about later. She looked up at him as if measuring his response.

“I really hope you like it here,” Mitchell said. “We’re glad-actually, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Thanks,” Emily said with a grateful tone to her voice. Mitchell crossed his fingers and prayed that this would work out.

* * *

The changes in the household were dramatic and came almost overnight. On the first workday when Mitchell arrived home from work, the mouthwatering aroma of a home-cooked meal greeted him. The house was straightened up, the kids’ homework was finished, and Emily was busy stirring what smelled like a Hollandaise sauce for the fresh asparagus that was steaming in the pot.

“Wow!” was the most imaginative thing he could think of saying. He wanted to say more but his head was whirling from the settled scene before him. There was that little bit of chaos around the edges, a backpack tossed aside, a schoolbook sitting on the kitchen counter, but otherwise the house was in great shape. But he didn’t have the two-hour hurricane of homework and household chores awaiting him. “This is great! Really great!”

Mitchell and his children and Emily quickly shifted into a comfortable routine. Emily was great to have around and blended in perfectly. She would get the kids up and fed and off to school before leaving for her own classes. She’d make sure they got home in the afternoon and helped them finish their homework before cooking dinner. In the evening she would attend to her own studies, often chatting with friends on the phone or online. Three or four times a week she would take off to work out at a local gym. She liked to go shopping with her friends on Saturday or Sunday afternoons. On most Friday or Saturday nights she went out with her friends. Sunday was her free day and she usually spent it visiting her family.

She fit in so well, Mitchell grew used to having her around. They were able to divide up the household tasks and there was nothing that he asked Emily to do that she didn’t do willingly. Where once the kids would hassle each other over the most trivial thing, they seemed to be getting along better. Kelly didn’t seem to be as sullen and moody, and Timothy seemed to be brightening up and coming out of his shell. Their schoolwork was improving and Mitchell knew that it wasn’t because of what he wasn’t able to do, but because of what Emily was doing for them.

He loved watching her sit helping Timothy with his homework. She was so patient and helpful and understanding. Another time he saw Emily and Kelly sitting in the family room watching some MTV program, laughing and giggling like old friends. She fit in so well that he couldn’t believe he had waited so long to get a nanny.

One evening, as he watched Emily take off in her cute little light blue VW bug convertible for her workout and later to meet up with some friends, he felt almost like it was watching his oldest daughter go out for the evening. Almost overnight, she had become a part of their family. Mitchell was so grateful that the cost of paying for her services didn’t matter for he would gladly write out the checks.

* * *

Then there came a Friday evening when Mitchell was heading down the hall to Timothy’s room and Emily’s door was ajar. In passing by he caught a quick glimpse of her standing before the full-length mirror she had brought with her. She was dressed in only a tiny pair of pink bikini panties and was slipping into a light blue dress. He instantly felt his face grow warm and flushed and he quickly hustled down the hall to Timothy’s room and threw himself into playing Bionicle’s with his son. Mitchell felt unnerved by the quick little glimpse of Emily. He had become so used to her in the role of nanny that he hadn’t realized what a sexy young woman she was. The doorbell rang a few minutes later and Mitchell headed down to answer it.

“That’s probably for me,” Emily called out from her room. “I’ll bet that’s my guy.”

Mitchell remembered how earlier that evening, during dinner, she had mentioned something about her long-time boyfriend coming to town for the weekend. When Mitchell answered the door, a tall dark handsome guy stood there smiling.

“Mr. Gallagher? I’m Brian Morris,” the young man said, extending his hand.

Pulling back, she gulped down a gust of air, and then took the big prick into her throat again as Brutus pumped forward lustily.

Melanie’s eyes were nearly bugging out of her head in amazement. She could not believe what she was seeing! Dahlia had swallowed that whole, huge length of black manmeat! And she seemed to be loving it! How on earth could anybody take something that big into their mouth, let alone their cunt? Melanie shivered with baffled fear and wonder as she imagined getting her tight virgin slit spread wide apart by an organ of Brutus’ prodigious proportions.

“Whoa dere, lady!” Brutus gasped after a few more pumps, “You gonna milk me dry with dat hot suckin’ mouth of yours!”

He released her head and backed off, his huge, saliva-imbued honker slapping up against his firm belly noisily, glistening in the ray of sunlight. He reached down and hefted the lovely wench to her feet.

Reaching out, he squeezed her full, wobbling boobs through her blouse, enjoying the feeling of the pliant, resilient flesh. Dahlia whimpered in desire as he kneaded her tits, and shuddered as Brutus quickly began to unbutton her blouse. He slowly drew it back over her shoulders and Dahlia let it fall to the ground.

Brutus gave a low growl of satisfaction as he ogled her bouncing, appetizing breasts. They were creamy brown bowls of firm, soft flesh, capped by large, silver dollar sized nipples which puckered outward in excitement as the big stud ran the heels of his hands across them.

He encircled each tit in his hands and squeezed hard, rubbing them together lewdly and lifting them in the air. Bending down, he circled his powerful lips and sucked noisily at Dahlia’s left tit, pulling at the soft circle of flesh like a vacuum, his tongue flicking rapidly back and forth across the throbbing finger of flesh. He drew away, a strand of saliva connecting her erect nipple and his mouth, and then clamped his mouth to her other pap while he caught the wet one between two fingers and squeezed it hard.

Dahlia yipped and moaned in carnal delight as the black dude worked vigorously away at her succulent brown boobs. He dropped his hands suddenly and reached around the back of her frock, seeking out the zipper. Slowly, he drew it down, and Dahlia’s frock fell in a crumpled heap around her ankles. She was wearing no underclothes, and her full ripe hips were a delicious pale brownish hue. A triangle of dark crinkly hair glistened between her legs, moist with her love juices, and she gave a sharp cry of delight as Brutus began to run his hands slowly up the insides of her thighs until they met between her legs, scraping through her warm pubic bush.

Brutus dropped to his knees and slowly spread the pouting, slickened outer lips of Dahlia’s vagina, revealing the glistening interior of her cunt. Dahlia whimpered in delight as the ravenous stud leaned forward, inhaling her rich feminine scent and stroked out his tongue, sawing it up and down the velvety wetness of her sweet furrow. He strummed the erect, quivering knob of her clitoris lewdly with the tip of his tongue, and Dahlia gave a little shriek of ecstasy, beginning to undulate her lips against his face, her big wet boobs flapping up and down as she writhed in glee.

Brutus’ big hands clung tightly to the full ripe cheeks of her ass as he dug his face eagerly into her muff, noisily sucking and licking the mound of flesh, forking his tongue as deep into her sweet, honeyed chasm as he could and tasting her rich, flowing juices.

As he ate her box, Brutus’ hand stroked rapidly up and down the wet, rigid length of his erection.

The big black stud was really horny by this time. He drew away, panting hoarsely, the lower part of his face dripping with Dahlia’s copious juices. He grinned wolfishly up at her and caught her around the waist, pulling her down on the hay beside him.

Lewdly, he grasped her legs above the knees and spread them apart, pulling the throbbing petals of her vulva away from one another and exposing the maw to her sweet cuntal furrow.

He shuffled forward on his knees and dropped his big body down above hers, planting one hand beside her waist on the hay while he fisted the pulsating base of his pecker in the other. Lowering his ass gradually, he maneuvered the thick, bloated head of his dick against the juicy twat, until it had lodged in the puckered mouth.

Then, he planted both hands firmly on the ground and began to rotate his hips lewdly and lightly jab them forward.

Dahlia stared up at his face with naked desire, little mewls and whimpers of excitement spilling from her lips. Her fingers curled into the muscular curves of his chest as she braced herself for the penetration.

Brutus didn’t give her much time. He gave a savage grunt of pleasure and knifed his pelvis forward hard, brutally slamming his lower body against hers. Dahlia’s wavering scream echoed through the rafters of the barn as the eleven inch prick rammed halfway up inside the black wench’s hot, clasping vaginal sheath.

Brutus moaned in satisfaction as the glovelike interior of Dahlia’s sweet canal tugged at his hard long prick, and then he began to work his hips vigorously to and fro, sawing in and out of the whimpering, writhing girl’s hungry hole.

Dahlia locked her ankles around the small of Brutus’ back and she began to buck her hips wantonly, impaling herself again and again on the thick black sex tool.

Brutus gave animalistic grunts of pleasure as he humped into her hard, his big body rippling as he strained every muscle to jam his mauler as deeply into her outrageously stretched pudendum as he could.

Their bellies smacked together rhythmically, and moist squelching noises emerged as the thick pecker sluiced in and out of Dahlia’s oozing, unctuous middle, banging repeatedly against her cervix.

Dahlia screeched in pleasure, digging her fingers into Brutus’ broad, muscular back.

“You like it, don’t you, baby?” Brutus panted hoarsely, pumping lustily.

“YES! YES! FUCK ME, BRUTUS! FUCK ME GOOD! MMMMMMM!” Dahlia moaned, tossing her head from side to side and writhing in ecstasy beneath him like an eel.

The tempo of their fucking continued to accelerate, until Brutus was bucking into her so hard and fast he practically knocked the breath out of the slender mulatto wench each time he descended.

“AWWW, YEAH! I GONNA BLAST YA, BABE! I GONNA CUM! AARRRRGH!” Brutus roared, pounding his rigid pecker deeply into her steamy hole.

A great shudder of carnal fulfillment wracked his powerful physique as his body was consumed with the fires of erotic pleasure. His big balls jerked and boiled over, and hot, heavy streams of thick come jetted deeply into Dahlia’s womb, filling her with his seed.

The powerful blasts of come triggered Dahlia’s own delirious response, and she raked her fingers across Brutus’ broad sweaty back and screamed with unabated lust. Her back arched, mashing her flopping boobs against Brutus’ powerful chest, and her hips churned frantically. Brutus groaned in pleasure as he felt her cuntal walls and lips convulse and suck at his still spewing hose, milking him of every last drop of sperm.

Their sweaty, fulfilled bodies fell into a limp heap, and the two black lovers lay panting in one another’s arms.

Above them, Melanie Wilkerson’s head was whirling with startled lust and shock. She had never believed sex could be so intensely exciting! Stabs of envy and need shot through her. So this was what she had been missing!

“Hey, you like the stories, I like the feedback!! Mutual arrangement?! And there’s more coming… ”

“Come on. No funny business this time.” Gill got up and went out to her room.

Venessa chimed in, “We’ll just play for fun, Jeff. We wouldn’t want anything to get out of hand.”

Gill returned triumphantly with the cards.

“Blackjack anyone?” Venessa suggested.

“Is that the one with twenty one?” Gill asked.

Jeff sat back as Venessa explained the rules. Venessa announced herself as dealer and the game progressed. A few pieces of pasta passing around as before. Hand after hand went by. Everyone was quiet. They played for half an hour. No-one said a word. Jeff was feeling it, but he wanted to play on, he knew where this was heading, he was sure everyone else knew too. Several more hands passed, then Gill got low. She was down to her last two pieces.

“I’m going to be out after this one.”

Jeff looked at Venessa. He was expecting her to say something. Venessa was looking at him.

“Grab another handful out of the bag.”

Gill remained where she was. Jeff was surprised, he had expected Venessa to crank it up a notch.

“Who wants to play for clothes? I kind of enjoyed last night.” Gill looked around for support.”

Jeff was somewhat shocked at the boss’s daughter. This was not the proper young girl who worked in the office.

“Yes, why don’t we do that?” Venessa found her voice. “Any objections, Jeff?”

Jeff was intimidated by her, she looked like she wanted a repeat. But at the same time the tension was broken and it seemed everyone was on board. They all saw what happened last night.

“Go on.”

“Good boy.” Venessa grabbed the cards. “Ok, here are our new rules. I’m dealer, you can buy back with a piece of clothing for ten bits, each hand costs you three to play. You are really both playing against me so I am at a disadvantage but I’m ok with that if everyone else is.”

Jeff looked at her, and her chips. She was winning, she must know that the dealer had the edge at blackjack. She wasn’t fooling him this time. He looked her over again. She was wearing the same trousers as last night, a different top, shoes, a watch. There was no telling how much of that she was going to count even if she ever got into trouble.

“Let’s get going”. She shuffled.

“Gill isn’t too clued up on the rules, I say we play a different game.” Jeff interrupted.

Venessa stopped.

“What game?” Gill asked.

“We take one card off the top each. Low card takes it all off. Everything. The winner is the last one dressed.”

Jeff had raised the stakes, but levelled the playing field.

“That’s simple. I like it.” Gill clapped her hands.

“Ok Venessa?” Jeff was waiting for her to negotiate.

“No problem.”

“Cut the pack.” Jeff took the cards and passed them over the table. “Gill.”

Gill cut the pack and put the deck at the table’s centre.

“Ladies First.”

Venessa reached out and took a card. Turned it over and laid it down. A nine. Jeff could feel his cock pressing for more space. Gill took hers looked at it and punched the air with her right hand. She placed it on the table. An ace. Jeff could feel the adrenaline surging. He was odds on to lose again. He couldn’t work out in his own mind whether or not he wanted a high or low card. He took his and flipped it straight over without looking at it first. It was a jack. He was watching Venessa all the time. Her face fell, just for an instant it fell. Then a steely coolness returned.

“Fine. Nice draw.” She stood up and too a few paces back from the table. She unbuttoned her top, revealing a neat white lacy bra. She folded the top over the back of her chair. She unbuckled her belt and let the trousers drop to the floor revealing a matching set of briefs. She stepped out of the trousers and moved around to her bra, which she quickly unhooked. Her hands momentarily stayed over her breasts before she pulled the material away. The body Jeff was gradually seeing was fantastic. She started to play around with the bra, twirling it at her side. She was so well defined, her breasts were in perfect proportion to her athletic frame, the nipples were standing a long way out. And it wasn’t cold.

She dropped the bra. And in a swift movement slid her panties down, uncovering the faintest hint of trimmed blond hair, before she flicked them toward the table and sat down.

“Enjoy?”

“Everything.” Jeff wanted her to stand back up again so desperately. She was absolutely beautiful but now she was covered by the table. His hard on was becoming painful, he shifted his left leg to let it breath.

“What?”

“All off.” He pointed at the watch. She gave him a wounded look, but stood back up again, walked three steps towards the kitchen and, facing away from the table, lifted her arm high making an exaggerated motion to take the watch off. He could see her fine perfectly sculpted arse now, not an ounce of fat anywhere. If she worked out it really paid off.

“And the necklace.” Gill chimed in.

She turned, took off her necklace. Flicked away her heels, and took her earrings off for good measure, as she did this she leant forward her breasts pointing down. And then she stood erect, hands on her hips.

“All off. Satisfied?”

Jeff nodded. He didn’t want to say anything, his mouth was bone dry.

“Next round.”

“Well I’m out.” Venessa leant back. “Going to join me, Jeff?”

“You’re not out. The game is over when there is one person left clothed.” Jeff paused. “Like we agreed.”

“I can’t take any more off.”

“If someone is already naked and they draw the low card, they have to do a forfeit, decided by the person with the high card.”

It was an interesting suggestion, thought Jeff. He couldn’t believe Gill had made it. It seemed the previous night made anything possible.

“Ok. Let’s play.”

Gill drew.

Her face fell.

“A two.”

Jeff drew and flipped like before. He was trying to look nonchalant but he had to move quickly, his hand was shaking really bad.

It was an eight.

Venessa drew again. She looked at the card. Gill was already standing. Her dress fell to the floor. She stood there in her underwear. Jeff was riveted. She reached behind her back and then stopped.

“She’s got a two too, too.”

Venessa had put the card face down on the table.

“Ok. Stop Gill, it’s a tie, we draw again.” Venessa was looking a little red in the face.

“I’m stripping. You have to do a forfeit. It’s the rules. What does she have to do Jeff? You have the high card.”

Gill dropped her bra and casually pulled off her knickers. She stood there completely naked, folded her arms and smugly looked at Venessa.

Venessa looked defiant. “Well, Jeff.”

Jeff was finishing his drink. He picked up the bottle and drained the remaining contents into his glass.

“Seeing as Gill here is naked, why don’t you go down on her.”

Jeff’s head was exploding with two impossibilities. One, that she would ever do it. Two, that she could refuse after all that had happened. There was silence. Gill who had been confidently cheeky all night was now looking shocked. He had gone too far. He was getting annoyed with himself for grabbing too much. Venessa pushed her chair back and rose.

“I’m glad you said that.”

She took one stride towards Gill, who visibly leant away, she slid one hand around the back of her head and pulled her forward, bringing their lips together and plunging her tongue into her.

Jeff was frozen.

Venessa engaged Gill in a long drawn out kiss, she moved her hands down to Gill’s shoulders then ran them down her front, cupping and squeezing her firm, full breasts. Gill broke her mouth free and gasped for air. Venessa suddenly pushed her back, and she fell across the sofa. Venessa moved in. She dropped to one knee, slapped her hands on the inside of Gill’s thighs and pushed them firmly apart. Then she ploughed her head forward. Gill screamed.

Jeff was sitting within touching distance of two of his colleagues having sex. He was dying to get his cock out. His trousers were getting soaked, both from a nervous sweat and from his cock which was leaking fluid and felt like it was going to erupt.

Venessa was going at Gill hard. Gill was breathing erratically, moaning, wailing, she was getting the treatment. Venessa bucked her hips up, her arse was now pointing straight at Jeff, if he reached out his arm he could have stroked it. Her back was shimmering with perspiration, and her face still buried deep into Gill.

She shifted her knees apart, spreading her lips, Jeff was looking straight into to her slit.

Gill threw her arm out and knocked a plant off the table next to the sofa, Jeff thought she was on the edge. He was too, he wanted to free himself, to join in, so desperately, but he was afraid to move, that moving might make it all stop. And if he touched Venessa’s perfect flesh, he thought he might get punched.

Gill came, loudly. Venessa lifted her head out, panting, she turned and sat down on the floor in front of Gill, juice was dripping from her chin. She tilted her head back and wiped her face, and her neck and smeared the liquid all down her front, over her breasts and ended with her hand between her legs.

Jeff came in his pants. It was overdue, he had been scared to get it out, and it was too late now. He stood up and headed for his room trying to keep whatever high ground there was left. He stopped.

“Don’t forget to clean up.”

And continued on.

*

“You are wanted in the boss’s office.”

It was good timing. Jeff had been in early on Monday morning to write his letter of resignation and it was now just coming off the printer. He tucked it into a plain envelope and tucked that into his pocket.

Little miss boss had the whole weekend to divulge the goods, this was it. Better get in there first.

He walked past where Gill worked, she did not look up, her face was nearly beetroot.

The door to the MD’s office was open, Venessa sat in front of the old man’s desk, the ice queen sat there as if nothing had happened. He put his hand in his pocket around the letter and walked in. Venessa did not turn around.

“I hear you did a good job, Jeff.”

“It was Venessa mostly. She really got stuck in to it.”

“That’s not what Venessa said.”

Venessa did not move a muscle.

“Jeff’s demonstration was the highlight of the week.” She said

“I didn’t think you guys brought any product with you.”

“We didn’t.” Venessa coolly finished. Jeff waited for the boss to ask for an explanation but the old man scratched his head and moved on.

“I won’t forget this, both of you. That’s really all I wanted to say. Well done.”

Jeff eased his hand out of his pocket. The letter stayed behind.

“Thanks, sir. I’ve got clients coming in at ten, so…”

“Off you go. Don’t let me keep you.”

Jeff backed out and left. As he returned to his office he walked past Gill. She had her head submerged into her laptop. He might not resign just yet. The tension around here would be deliciously unbearable.