I grew up in Brooklyn, the eldest son of working-class parents. With six children, the only support for my college expenses that they could provide was room and board. I attended City University of New York with ROTC paying for my tuition. I covered everything else with part-time jobs.

The neighborhood I grew up in was not the worst, but you still had to be tough not to get pushed around. When someone pushed me around I got really angry, but it was the cold anger that just showing a little bit can control many situations. When that didn't work, a few learned what 6'1 and 195 pounds could do. When I got that cold anger, it seemed like everything slowed down. Someone attacking me with a knife or a fist seemed to be moving in slow motion, making it easy for me to evade or stifle the attack. I picked up some street-level martial arts and learned more in my ROTC classes and exercises.

After four years of active duty of which the hardest part was losing some of my men, I came back to Brooklyn. I was 26 and had no future plans. A fellow officer had inherited a lawn and garden dealership located in Riverhead. It was struggling and he basically wanted to get rid of it. I thought that at least it was a business. I had saved about $120,000 by being a little parsimonious during my four years of active duty. He told me he would sell it to me for $250,000. We agreed that he would sell me a 50% interest for $100,000 and an option to buy the remaining 50% interest for another $100,000 with the option expiring in five years. He agreed to my putting $20,000 into the business for a 10% interest, as the dealership was not only low on sales but also working capital.

The first thing I noticed was that the real market for equipment was with the lawn and landscaping services businesses serving the Hamptons. I financed some inventory in larger tractors and lawn mowers and began to get some business from some of the Hamptons area lawn and landscaping services. They complained about bringing their equipment to Riverhead for servicing. The dealership was starting to make some money from the new and larger customers. I addressed their concerns in two ways. I financed a mobile repair service truck that could effectively service the larger equipment, and I signed a lease for a second location in Bridgehampton. This followed the strategy that I would follow over the next few years of locating my stores with convenience to customer areas. I couldn't locate by cost alone because that would be too inconvenient for my customers. Following that philosophy, I opened a third location in Lake Success, which was an almost instant success.

I was now able to procure the financing to buy my partner out although he was reluctant to sell. My next move was into Westchester County with locations in Tarrytown and Rye. Once those locations were up and running we moved into Connecticut. This was a new business environment but we learned our way. We followed a policy of having at least one service truck for each location although we limited use of our mobile service to small tractors, UTVs, and large riding mowers.

With eight locations and all but the newest highly profitable I began to cut back on my involvement in the business. I went from sixty-, seventy-, and eighty-hour weeks down to thirty. The key to my success was to get good managers and a stable workforce. I had had a spotty social life. Now I was considered a successful small businessman and began to get invitations from people who knew me.

At a party in Manhattan, I saw the most attractive woman I had ever seen. I watched walk to the bar and she seemed like a walking advertisement for sex. She did have large boobs, a small waist, and a well-sized butt. I saw her look at me and smile and that was all the invitation I needed. I walked over to her, hoping I wouldn't get shot down.

I used my classic line, "Hi, I'm Mike Reasoner," extending my hand as I spoke.

She didn't shake my hand. Instead, she took my hand between both of hers. "Hi, I'm Myra Hernandez. Do you work for a living? I mean with your hands?"

I replied, as she released my hand, "I'm in tractor sales. Sometimes I have to deal with loading and unloading working, and non-working equipment."

She said, "That's interesting. Most of the people here work with their minds, not their hands. I'm the token Latina in an advertising firm. It's nice to feel a working man's hands."

I guess I should have told her that I no longer did much hands-on around my dealerships, and that most of my calluses came from exercise equipment and swinging a softball bat, but after all, I had just met her.

I did explain a little further, "I mostly work with my mind, although it's nice to do a little hands-on work." I did pride myself on being able to operate any piece of new equipment that we sold. "What do you do in advertising?"

She said, "Besides being a gofer for management, I work in sales, doing things like support for major presentations, and developing concepts for advertising campaigns. What's your usual day like."

I explained, "I'm mostly involved in a supervisory role now, but I get involved in major contracts, and I also get involved when there's a major problem. How does your typical day go?"

She said, "I have no typical day. The needs of each client are different. I help the direct client representatives with campaign concepts, use of media, different aspects of advertising. We have specialists in all those areas. I help the client reps put it all together into a coherent presentation."

I asked, "Do you enjoy your job?"

She replied, "Yes and no. It's pleasant enough work and I'm good at it, but I want to move up from being the girl Friday for everyone to being an executive. I'd prefer helping people develop their skills to just using my skills one more time. How about you?"

I told her, "I enjoyed working with customers, and I still like doing that sometimes, but now I'm mostly involved with my people. I have good people working with me and I enjoy helping them out when they run into something they haven't seen before. Right now, I'm trying to decide what my next step should be."

She continued, "The best part of my job is working with the people. As a Latina, I sometimes have to help people who don't realize they need my help. I think that part would be easier if I could go to the next step and be an executive. I feel like I do a lot of coordination and making things work that I don't get credit for. At my firm it seems like a big step to go from token Latina to executive, but I feel like that is my next step, and I'm not too far from it."

I decided I had devoted enough time to baiting the hook, it was time to reel the fish in. "It sounds like you've got a challenge, but you're stepping up to it. Would you like to go out sometime?"

She replied, "I would. Maybe we could go out for a drink later when the party starts breaking up."

This was not exactly what I wanted, but I decided she was worth waiting for. "That'd be great! I guess you need to circulate some more."

She explained, "I need to spend another thirty minutes or so trolling for customers. Can you wait?"

I said, joking, "Sure, although I don't think I'm going to sell many lawn mowers here."

She kissed my cheek, "Later, honey!" and she was off talking to older business types.

A few minutes later, a wiseacre came up to me and opened with, "So, you're a lawn mower salesman?"

I smiled at the asshole, and told him, "Not exactly. The biggest customers of my stores are landscapers in Long Island, Westchester County, and Connecticut. We're starting a push into northeastern New Jersey."

I had his interest now. "Sounds like you could use some advertising help. I said we do some media marketing for retail customers, but our main push is through personal contact with the larger landscaping and lawn service firms."

He continued, "A well-designed advertising program could get you a great deal of name recognition."

I said, "I'm not sure that would be advisable. I don't want my competitors' franchisors concerned about us."

His frustration apparent, he replied, "That's up to you." With that he headed toward the bar. For the next hour or so, I observed people. I didn't think any of these people were potential customers. Some of them were probably customers of my customers.

Around 12:15, Myra approached me, "If you're ready to go, I'm ready!"

I quickly replied, "Let's go!"

At the elevator bank, she asked if I'd like to have a nightcap at her place, as she was a little tired. I acquiesced. I wasn't exactly looking forward to a late-night subway ride to my row house in Queens. It was a relatively short walk to her studio apartment. We sat on her sofa, and sipped wine. I reached over and kissed her. She kissed me back with tongue. After that, it was a bit of a mad rush to get our clothes off, as we kissed, fondled and caressed each other's bodies. I was amazed at how nice a two-bedroom condo she had.

She started off giving me the ride of my life in the cowgirl position. She was one of those wonderful women whose pussy was just the right temperature and moistness. While she was thrusting herself onto me, she looked into my eyes and it seemed like every stroke was perfect, just the right timing and pressure. I pride myself on controlling my ejaculations but she was providing a mighty test. It was so good that it was hard to not just let go and enjoy. I didn't think that was what either of us wanted. Whatever she was doing to make me feel so good seemed to be having an effect on her. I don't think she was pumping me for more than two minutes before she had her first body-shaking orgasm. Not more than another minute until she had another convulsive climax. After she came a third time, she rolled off and sweetly said, "Your turn!"

I rolled her over and pulled her body erect for the kneeling prison guard. She was totally relaxed as I held her by her upper arms and pounded her as hard and fast as I could. It was no more than a minute until she was crying out, "I'm cumming!" as her body vibrated in yet another body-shaking climax. Her next four climaxes were separated by less than a minute.

She complained, "You're wearing me out! My pussy will be sore tomorrow!"

I consoled her with, "Too bad! You'll get over it!"

She replied with, "Yeah, probably."

She had such a young lithe body. After taking her to three orgasms in the drop box, which she seemed to thoroughly enjoy, I decided to try her out in the sitting wheelbarrow, where the penetrator, that would be me, sits on the bed. She lowers her pelvis on to mine, impaling herself, while supporting her upper body on her hands and arms. Her knees are on the bed supporting her thighs. She couldn't get enough of this. I couldn't interrupt such bliss as she came and came at least ten or twelve times. It was very exciting for me because she was so into it. Finally, after ten or twelve screaming orgasms on her part, I could no longer hold back and began explosively sending streams of cum against her love canal walls.

She gingerly crawled off the bed. She turned around and kneeling on the floor kissed me, and said, "That was fantastic!"

All I could reply was, "It was, wasn't it?"

She seemed to shake her head and come back to earth. "Mike, sweetheart. I'm really wiped. I need to get some sleep. You're welcome to stay. If you stay, I can promise you something good in the morning."

I replied, "It can't be any better than what we just did!"

She responded, "You might be surprised. If we try real hard, it might be better!"

I kissed her and told her, "I'm in!"

She kissed me back and then simply said, "Good night!"

I swear that before I could reply she was asleep.

The next morning, she proved that she stood behind what she had said. Incredible as it may seem, I think the next morning's exercise was better than the previous night's. Afterward, we showered and dressed and went to brunch. She made sure that we had each other's phone numbers. Then she told me she had a late lunch with some girlfriends but that I could come over to her apartment that evening and she would fix me a light supper. As we walked back to her apartment, thoughts of the evening's festivities aroused me, and we had one more round of physical intimacy before I bid her au revoir until evening.

I couldn't believe it but that Sunday night was even better than our previous sessions. She seemed to be on a mission to prove that when she was finished with me my balls no longer contained a single drop of sperm. I could tell that she was very experienced, but I was no where close to being a virgin and was happy that such an experienced woman could be satisfied with my efforts.

We fell into a pattern of staying at her place during the week, and my place on the weekends. In a way, although I was thirty and had had many liaisons of short duration, she was my first girlfriend. Our only issue was establishing a joint residence. My main office was on the second floor of my Lake Success store, while she felt like her work and her position required a Manhattan residence. We finally purchased a Manhattan condo. It was a major investment, but it seemed to fill our needs both present and future. It was a two-story three-bedroom affair with underground parking. Upkeep was not inconsequential either, but I felt its convenience and utility made it worthwhile.

We moved in and I felt it was time to commit. I asked her to marry me. She said that she wanted to marry me but there were things she had to tell me before she started wearing my ring. We decided to have our discussion of her concerns after dinner one Tuesday night. She fixed me a highball while she limited herself to a glass of wine. She had cooked a wonderful meal and I was in a very good mood when we started our talk.

She began our conversation, "Mike, I think I love you. I have never loved anyone before so this is new territory for me. What I do know is this. You are the first man I have ever met that I could see myself spending a lifetime with. I have always wanted to get married and have children, but you are the first person that I can see in that picture with me. You know, the one with an older couple surrounded by their children and grandchildren. Are you with me so far, Mike?"

I replied, "Yes, this seems like the wonderful Myra that I love and cherish."

She continued, "That was the good part. Now comes the hard part." She looked to me for reassurance.

I told her, "I'm with you so far, Myra!"

She paused as if gathering her thoughts. "Mike, as a Latina, I've taken some shortcuts in my struggle to get the top. I want to be one of the executives of our firm."

I was a little concerned, "What kind of shortcuts, Myra?"

She looked quite concerned, "Mike, I can't sugarcoat it! I've used my body to get to the next level."

I inquired, "You mean you've had to fuck guys to get ahead."

She responded, "In a word, yes. I've been expected to perform for executives, clients, potential clients and even friends of executives."

I asked, "Are you still doing this?"

She replied, "Not as much since I've been with you. I still have to do the CEO on Tuesday and Friday afternoons. Often, when I work late, there's some kind of wet work involved."

I continued, "By wet work, you mean you're screwing somebody?"

She started to tear up, "I'm so sorry, Mike. I hate telling you this, but I felt like I couldn't hold it back any longer."

I gave her the hard question, "What do you plan going forward?"

She sniffled a little, "Mike, if I quit putting out for the firm, it's pretty much the same as resigning my job."

I exclaimed, "Oh, Myra, are you sure? Is this what you really want to do?"

She told me, "I want to prove that I can get ahead, but advertising is a macho world. It's understood that as a Latina, my requirements to get ahead are different. It's even harder than if I was a white woman. They all like having sex with a Latina. It's just that I'm not considered the same when we meet as executives and managers. I am a manager although my domain is pretty small."

I explained, "You don't have to do this, Myra! I have plenty of money. My business is very profitable."

She responded, "I don't want handouts, Mike. Besides, I need to send money to my family. The only thing that bothers me about the sex is that now that I've told you about it, I can see that it bothers you. I don't want to quit, Mike, but for you, I will if I have to."

I said, "Don't quit, yet. Let me think about this. You do want to have children, don't you?"

She replied, "Of course, Mike. I see now that I want to have your children."

I continued, "But you want to keep your career?"

She answered, "I do. It's a part of who I am. Success in my career is part of my reason for living day to day."

I told her, "I don' t like you having to fuck guys in order to be promotable. It seems like a nasty business."

She asked me, "Can you understand, Mike? I like my job. I like the business. I would prefer to feel like I can move ahead without prostituting myself, but I don't mind the actual sex. It's nothing like what I have with you, but that doesn't mean it's unpleasant."

I terminated our discussion with, "I think we both have some things to think about, Myra. I suggest we ponder our options here and then discuss it further in a day or two. I never expected to have a virgin as my wife, but it seems like you've taken promiscuity to a whole new level. I'm just not sure I can deal with it."

Myra

I had never met anybody like Mike. From our first night together, until the present, I knew he was the man for me. Now, it was looking like I might have to give up my job in order to have him. I knew that even that might not be enough. I didn't expect him to be happy with what I had to tell him, but I could tell it hit him hard. It would not be easy to go forward. I had worked at Pearman and Associates for more than three years. I felt like some of the growth since I joined the firm was due to my efforts. Sometimes it seemed that I got more credit for the work that I did on my back instead of the excellent work I did in sales support and conceptualizing media campaigns.

The next day I went in to see Carlton Pearman, the CEO of my firm.

He greeted me, "What did I do to deserve a visit with the most beautiful woman I have ever seen? It's not a Tuesday or Friday, but I'm happy to see you anyway."

I told him, "I know, Mr. Pearman, but I have a problem." He knew this wasn't like our twice weekly sexual visits, because I didn't call him Carlton.

I spit it out quickly, because I knew he tended to quickly become impatient. "I've met someone that I really like. He's unhappy with me spreading my legs for the firm."

I could tell that he was a little angry. "He doesn't like it. Well, isn't that just too bad? Screw him!"

I replied, "I did, Mr. Pearman, and I really liked it. Mr. Pearman. I really like him."

He thought a minute, "Does he like you just as much?"

I told him, "I think so; I hope so."

He reassured me, "Myra, you're one of my most valuable employees. Let me think about this. I want both of you to be happy."

I answered, "Thank you, Mr. Pearman. I feel better now."

He then asked, "Myra, can you think of something that would make us both happy right now?"

I responded, "We could pretend it was Tuesday or Friday?"

He replied, "Damn, but you're good, girl! Start stripping."

I had told Mike that I didn't mind what I had to do at work. Carlton had a nice fat dick. It wasn't real long, but it was thick, and I thoroughly enjoyed fucking it. That is exactly what I did after I sucked it a bit. The nice thing about fucking Carlton in the morning was that I could use his private bathroom to clean up after one of our fucking sessions. Also, since it was morning I would be completely recovered by the time I went home to Mike. I guess I am basically an amoral person. I didn't want to lie to Mike, but I enjoyed fucking at work and didn't feel compelled to stop doing it. If he asked me I would tell him about Carlton consoling me; however, if he didn't mention it, I certainly saw no reason to bring it up.

That night we talked again. I didn't really want to talk; I wanted to remind him of how much he liked fucking me.

Mike asked, "Have you thought more about your job and us?"

I replied, "I have. I have to admit that I just like being fucked. Nobody fucks me like you do. Still, I like fucking the guys at work. Is there some way that you think you could live with me getting fucked at work?"

He told me, "I have thought about it a lot. I am willing to try to tolerate it for a while. I'm making no promises. If it reaches the point, I can't take it anymore. I'll tell you. I won't just dump you, but a split up is possible at some point in the future. You're the most fantastic women I have ever known. You seem to be perfect except for this one thing. It's a pretty large thing when I think about us going forward."

I said, "I'm a horny slut!"

He said, "Yes!"

I asked, "So, how will this work?"

He replied, "I think the only way it can work is through communication. Honest communication. If you tell me you're working late, don't tell me it's putting the finishing touches on an ad campaign, if it's 'entertaining' clients. Does that sound reasonable?"

I responded, "We have to have honest communication, particularly if we're not going to have much in the way of fidelity?"

He suggested, "We can't have a relationship without respect and trust. Maybe we can get away with not having fidelity."

I said, "Then if you're good with that, where's my ring?"

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box. He pulled a very large diamond engagement ring out. He said, "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife."

I answered, "I love you, and I will."

He had to add, "Myra, this is a trial run. I don't want to be a cuckold. At some point, you may have to think about whether our relationship and your sexual activities at work are compatible."

I said, "I understand." I was beginning to think that between my job and Mike, I was probably going to have to choose. Probably before I could become Mrs. Reasoner.

And so we were engaged.

The next day at work I was excited to show everyone my ring.

On Friday, as I stripped for our usual assignation, Carlton asked me, "Do you think your pussy will be any better now that you're engaged?"

I replied, "I think that's a question for Mike."

He then told me, "I having a party Saturday night to celebrate your engagement. I hope both of you can attend."

I knew he was telling me it was a command performance for both of us. "We'll be happy to, Carlton." I lied because I doubted that Mike would be happy. Then I got a little concerned. At the last few parties, I had been stripped and fucked. I wasn't sure that Mike was ready to see me dressed, undressed, and fucked, as a slut. The likelihood of that not happening at the party was very low. I just hoped that Carlton would be nice about it, and that Mike could tolerate it.

There was more. Carlton told me he would be sending me a box of clothing containing everything that I would need to wear.

I asked him, "Is this going to be some kind of an in-your-face test of Mike?"

Carlton hemmed and hawed, "This is just a check to see if Mike is really ready to marry you with all the baggage."

I responded, "Baggage, eh! Is that what you call being called upon to fuck at a moment's notice?"

Carlton snarled back, "If the shoe fits, wear it!"

He knew from experience that I would do as was expected of me. I was sure he was trying to find out what Mike would tolerate. I guess I wanted to know, too!

When I told Mike about the party that Carlton was throwing in his and my honor, he reluctantly agreed to attend. He wasn't happy about the clothes that Carlton was sending. When the box arrived early Saturday afternoon, Mike asked if I was going to wear that 'whore' dress. I told him it wasn't that bad, although it was.

It was a red knit dress trimmed with black drawstrings. It would have been very conservative if it weren't for four significant cutouts. The dress itself went from my shoulders to my ankles. Two side cut outs varied from six to eight inches wide and went from my shoulders to my ankles. Without a bit of an inch wide shoulder strap, it would have been two separate pieces of fabric. The other two cutouts were a large U-shaped cutout in the back which went from my shoulders to below my waist to just above my butt crack and a large V-shaped cutout in the front which went from my shoulders past my navel to just above my mons Venus. Without the drawstrings my boobs would have been constantly popping out to full exposure. Even with the drawstrings a lot of boob was visible. It was beyond cleavage. Clearly I would be wearing no undies. The only other clothing items were a pair of black four-inch-high heels. With appropriate adjustment the drawstrings took the dress from being completely scandalous to only mildly so.

Mike interpreted 'business formal' to mean a gray plaid sports coat with matching gray slacks. It actually looked good on him.

Mike

I didn't want to go to the damned party but I felt like it would be churlish not to since it was ostensibly to honor Myra's and my engagement. I knew her job was important to her so I didn't want to complicate things with her boss. She lectured me on keeping my cool and going with the flow and not making a scene. I certainly didn't set out to make any problems for anyone. We walked to the party from our condo and got there at almost exactly eight o'clock.

When Myra introduced me to Carlton Pearman, he smirked, loosely shook my hand, and said, "Hi, bud!" He then said, "Excuse us," and guided Myra away by her arm and her butt. At least I assumed that was why his hand was squeezing her butt. He sat down on a sofa, helped Myra settle in on his lap, and began licking her neck and squeezing her boobs. I was seriously thinking about breaking him or at least some part of his anatomy, but Myra caught my eye, and mouthed, "No!"

Several of her colleagues graciously recognized her, kissing her hand, her arm, and her lips. Again, she caught my eye and mouthed, "No!" It might have seemed impossible but it was looking like this was going to be a worse party from my point of view than I had imagined. The party seemed to be mostly middle-aged and older men, who I assumed were executives. There were a few younger guys, our age or younger. There were a few women besides Myra. They uniformly appeared to be much younger as in their late teens or early twenties and physically were at least as well endowed as she. They also seemed to be dressed in even more revealing attire than Myra. The phrase 'paid escort' came to mind. These younger women seemed to be getting at least as much fondling and groping as Myra was. I would have liked to speak to Myra about what was going on, and to the girls about why they were here, but in both cases, I would have had to elbow my way through a clutch of their admirers in order to speak to them. I really wasn't interested in fondling and groping them. I noticed that all five of the women all seemed to have bottomless glasses as they seemed to always be full. To pass the time I counted heads. The party's attendance seemed to be composed of Myra and myself, four of the very young women, around a dozen of the younger guys, eight or nine of the executive types, and last, but certainly not least, Mr. Pearman, or as I thought of him, Old Man Pearman. In addition to the attendees, there were two bartenders. I guessed that Old Man Pearman didn't want to wait for a drink, because a bartender had to pee.

At almost exactly nine o'clock Carlton announced, "It's time!" "Myra, since you're the guest of honor, would you come over here?" As everyone crowded around to witness what would happen next, I thought, what the hell?, and joined the crowd on the outside where I could see the top of Myra's head. He then said, "Let's form some more or less concentric circles. First, the other women; Next, the executives; and Finally, the younger men." I guessed that I was considered a younger man so I was already in place as the others shuffled into place.

For a while the old man seemed to be concentrating on something. Then those who could see what was going on gave a murmur of approval as a red dress with black drawstrings was raised high into the air and then dropped to the ground. I knew that my Myra was totally nude. She wasn't complaining that I could hear and when I squeezed closer and stood on my tiptoes I could see no signs of distress or restraint. What I did see was her apparently doing a shimmy for which the onlookers rewarded her with cheers and applause.

Carlton was speaking again, "Now, you older guys help the other women off with their clothes." In a much shorter time than with Myra, I saw four more dresses go overhead and then to the floor.

"Okay, everyone sit down on the floor, except you, Myra! I just need you to bend over!" As everyone sat down on the floor, I observed my nude wife bent over on her hands and feet, her ass high in the air. The old fucker was nude from the waist down and had a large almost erect cock. He wanked it a few times to bring it to full erection and then stuck it in Myra's pussy. I started to go after him but realizing that I saw no signs of coercion or distress on Myra's part, I restrained myself. Like it or not, I was going to watch the old fart fuck my wife publicly in front of the entire party. After about three very long minutes, the asshole apparently shot his wad in my wife's pussy and proudly stepped back.

He looked at me directly, and spoke loudly, "Hey, bud! You need to get over here and clean up your wife's pussy."

I replied in a somewhat lower, but clearly audible voice, "No, thank you!"

The old fart tried again, even louder than before, "Hey, bud! I wasn't asking! I'm telling you, get your ass over here and start sucking your wife's pussy clean."

I replied in a much louder voice than before, "I heard you the first time, old-timer! You've got the wrong bud!"

I couldn't believe the asshole seemed to want a serious confrontation, "This is you last chance! Now get over here and start licking this mess up!"

I told him straight in that low voice that calms most people, "Most of the people here were either paid to be here or are your employees. I'm neither and you can't order me to do anything! Got it!"

He still didn't get it. "Myra, would you get over there and straighten your boyfriend out!"

Myra approached me cautiously, crying, and said, "Honey, it'll be better for everyone if you do what he asks."

I explained, "Myra, Myra, Myra, in what galaxy is it that you are imagining I'm going to suck another man's cum out of that skanky cunt?"

She said, "Honey, please. It's not that big a deal."

I told her, "I've tried to tolerate this nonsense, but this is just too far for me. There is no circumstance which is going to cause me to suck that bastard's cum out of your pussy other than it being life or death. I don't think this is life or death. This is to humiliate me and gratify that son of a bitch and it's not going to happen - tonight or ever!"

She replied, and smiled, "Okay, honey, I tried. I love you. Are you leaving now?" as she saw me nervously eyeing the door.

I told her, "I think that'd be best."

She added, "Please, sweetheart, be there when I get home."

I said, "I plan to be."

She kissed me, and quietly said, "I love you." She then turned and shook her head no to the asshole.

As I left the party venue, I heard Carlton announcing, "Okay, guys. We have five sluts here ready to be fucked. We've got all night, so form queues and be nice, and don't forget, it's all to have fun!"

Myra

I was sorry that Carlton had been such an asshole to Mike. I don't know why he thought Mike would be a willing cuckold. There must have been twenty guys watching Carlton fuck me. I was glad that he got the four professionals to help me. I wonder where he got them.

It looks like I'm going to have to fuck that icky Henderson. If Mike's still there when I get back to the condo, I'm thinking I need to find a less demanding job. There's a lot of things I like about this job, but there's just too many negatives. The truth is when he disrespected Mike, I realized how little respect he has for me. I'm starting to wonder if for all these times I've spread my legs, it is really getting me any closer to the executive suite. This is going to be a long night and it's in my honor? I'm beginning to regret a lot of things. Like coming to work for these misogynistic racists. Ay, caramba, I need a new job. Maybe I can go to work in Mike's company. I bet the benefits are better than with these old men. Cum! You fucker! As soon as Henderson gets off, I'm going to grab my dress and vamonos!

I told the next guy in the queue, "Let me go! I just need to make sure I know where my dress is."

As I grabbed my dress and started for the door, Carlton asked, "Where do you think you're going, Myra!"

I explained, "I going where I should have gone a long time ago. Mike showed me. Anywhere but here!"

Carlton said, "You can't leave. The party's not over."

I replied, as I continued toward the door, "My party's over!"

He grabbed my arm. I kicked him in the nuts and ran for the door. I ran to the elevator. I guess everyone was administering to Carlton. Just as I got on the elevator, I saw the door open. I pressed the lobby button, the door closed, and I relaxed. I hoped Mike would be pleasantly surprised when I walked into the condo.

When I got to the condo he wasn't there. Shit! He's got to come back. I heard a key.

I rand to the door and kissed my Mike.

I asked him, "Did you miss me?"

He replied, "I did. What happened at the party?"

I said, "I realized I was at the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong job with the wrong firm. Do you have any openings?"

He told me, "I might! What changed your mind?"

I explained, "While that old man, Henderson, was fucking me, I was thinking. I realized how severely Carlton had disrespected you. Then I realized that that meant he didn't respect me, either. He would probably end up fucking me over for another ten years, never promoting me to the executive suite, and finally when my looks started to fade, he would just let me go."

He replied, "You know you're a lot better than that, don't you?"

I said, "I think so. I must be good for something or you wouldn't have given me this rock," indicating my ring.

He then told me, "I think you're going to be good for a lot of things. Were you serious about working for me?"

I answered, "I was. I can work on your advertising or I could do bookkeeping. You're right. I can do a lot of things!"

I wanted to sell the Condo even before we got married, but Mike wanted to wait a while. I worked at his office until we were married. Carlton called me three times asking me to come back to his firm but I felt like I knew those guys well. They might change someday but it wouldn't be soon. Finally, after we were married and we had three kids, I went back to work for a larger advertising firm. There were strict rules against fraternization. I did better under their system than with Carlton's crap. After a few years, I became an assistant VP supervising a number of account executives. Sometimes, I yearned for a little DP, but my desire to be a good mother and a good wife to the best husband in the whole world was easily enough to override any yen for DP that I had. The picture of a gray-haired mom and pop overlooking their children and grandchildren was gradually becoming more real.