Synder & Ashe

We arrived safely in Porlamar, Venezuela twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, none of our luggage made it with us. Somehow, it had found itself on a cargo plane destined for Johannesburg, South Africa. The airline could trace our belongings instantly, but they were powerless to do anything about it. Our bags would be forwarded to us in three days' time, two days after the presentation to the investors.

Andrew looked miffed, but not terribly so. Unlike Dave and me, he had with him his three pieces of carry-on luggage. Everything we carried had been checked.

Andrew suggested that we purchase a few items and ride it out until Saturday. It sounded like a good plan to me. Dave, however, had a confession to make. His wallet had been with the bags.

Andrew's incredulous stare could've melted steel girders.

Dave had nothing with him except for a small amount of money and a few traveler's cheques. Certainly not enough to buy a week’s worth of clothing suitable for a business executive. Andrew dipped into his wallet, pulling out about $2,000 in crisp hundreds and fifties. He gave them to Dave. "I'll see to our transportation," he said. He strode off, pulling his wheeled luggage behind him. Dave and I trailed him like ducklings behind their mother to the pond. Neither one of us dared to raise our eyes and reveal our embarrassment.

A young native looking boy hailed a cab for us, stretching out a small dirty paw and waving it frantically. Andrew gave him a bill, muttered something in Spanish, and pointed. The boy nodded briskly and scampered off. "Here," Andrew said while passing his AMEX card and luggage to Dave, "Go to the Pearl of the Caribbean resort and check us in, would you? Use the card. The reservations are under Grissolm."

Dave nodded once, echoing the motion the boy had made earlier. For all of his great size, he looked no more self-assured than the child. He loaded the trunk of the beaten up Mitsubishi, then piled into its back seat. I opened the car door, about step inside, when Andrew’s firm hand seized me by the wrist.

"Not you," Andrew said. "You ride with me." Andrew kicked the door shut, leaving a confused looking Dave staring out at us from the dirt-smeared window as a sparkling black limousine pulled up behind him.

The dirty boy scampered out of the passenger-side, trilling in machine-gun Spanish. Andrew smiled at him, and waved him over. He stuffed a twenty into the small, dirty paw. The boy's eyes stretched wide, as if he couldn't believe what he saw. For all his stupor, he sure had sharp reflexes. The bill vanished in a loud snap of flesh on crisp paper. The boy looked at his clenched fist, still not believing his good fortune. He said something else to Andrew, who dismissed him with a flick of the wrist. The boy ran off, looking behind him fearfully as if he thought Andrew might try to reclaim his money.

Andrew reached over and opened the passenger-side door, holding it open for me so I could enter the limousine. He then strolled around to the other side and sat down. The car sped off without any instruction.

"I'm surprised there was a limousine at the airport waiting for us," I said. I was searching for any safe conversation topic. Being alone with him unnerved me.

"I'm not. I reserved it," he answered. "You didn't think I'd sit in one of those filthy little cabs, did you?" He stared out of the window, watching the sights. “Porlamar, and Isla Margarita in general is a playground for the rich. There’s serious money out here. For those who have cash anything’s available. By the way, do you like to go shopping?"

"Sometimes."

"That's no answer. Yes or no?" His voice remained unchanged yet his inflection held a note of irritation.

"I like to shop, yes, but I seldom do."

"No time, or no funds?"

Did Andrew know of Dave’s house-poor state? Sure we lived in a beautiful four-bedroom home and owned a cottage. Our beautiful house looks the best in the neighborhood. It also ate up every last penny Dave earned. I've been a housewife for the last 13 years, ever since my eldest son’s birth. The two other children kept me there. I didn’t regret raising my boys, but we sure missed the extra income. I no longer added money to the household budget.

How long had it been since I'd purchased a big-ticket item merely because I wanted it? A decade at least.

"A beautiful woman needs beautiful things to set her off," Andrew said. "I'll make sure you get everything that you need."

"Everything? That encompasses quite a bit!"

"Indeed it does," he replied. "Spread your legs. I just hope you're up to the challenge."

The command caught me totally off guard, slipped so casually into the flow of the conversation I barely caught it. I wanted to search his eyes to see if he was serious. I couldn’t see them as his head was turned towards the window, watching the panoramic island view slide by. He didn't need to see me to know how stupefied I felt. "Open your legs as wide as you can." He tapped inside of my right thigh with his fingertips as if requesting a blackjack dealer to slide him another card. My legs crept open a bit.

"Wider," he said. "I want to hear the ball and socket joints in your hips creak." He grasped my slim ankle and pulled it across his lap, burying the heel between the seat and the car door. "Unzip your shorts," he said.

Why did all of this surprise me? Wasn't this the same man who'd fondled me for the last few thousand miles? Still, his request disconcerted me. I didn't move. Irritably, he undid the top snap of my shorts and unzipped me all the way. I was revealed to him once again. At least, I would've been if he had bothered to even look at me.

His hand crept into my shorts, massaging my pussy with rough strokes. It had been a little while since he'd played with me last. To my shame, I found that I missed his touch, and felt ecstatic now that he’d returned it. My crotch rose upwards to meet his thrusting fingers.

"Keep your ass on the seat, Barbara Ann. Don't react to my touch," he said. His hand moved all over my crotch, spreading my lips, tweaking my clitoris, tugging at my labia and otherwise inflicting intense, painless sexual torture upon my body. He kept me on the edge of my orgasm. My pussy leaked copious amounts of fem-spend onto his probing hand. After the long plane ride, I didn’t know if I could deal with more of this exquisite torment. I needed to get off.

"Looking forward to your shopping trip?" he asked.

Shopping? "Yes, very much so," I replied, my voice tremulous with the strain of ignoring my broiling, self-basting pussy. My inner thighs quivered with need. Jamming his hand deeper into me by bucking my hips sharply upward is all I wanted to do. His earlier order didn't allow for such an action. Instead, I bit my lower lip and clenched my hands into white knuckled fists.

"What do like shopping for the most?" His fingers worked downwards, into my ass crack. My breath caught in my lungs. "Breathe, Barbara Ann," he said gently. "Don't hold it in, breathe regularly and deeply." I forced my lungs to restart. He bathed his palm in my natural lubrication, even as he attempted to pull conversation from me.

"Do like shopping for shoes?" He said. He tugged at the laces of my canvas runner with his free hand. "I'd say not."

"I'm more interested in comfortable, practical shoes."

"Comfort and beauty are not two mutually exclusive concepts. You'll learn soon enough." He picked at my laces, undoing them, then slipped the shoe off of my foot. He pinched the center of the balls my feet, causing my toes to splay open like a budding flower, each one delicately curved like a tulip’s fine petals. His fingers insinuated themselves between the toes, massaging with firm, strong strokes as he frigged my pussy and played with my asshole. Surprisingly, the best sensations came not from my crotch or ass, but from my foot!

"Too bad we don't have some skin cream on hand," he said. "On second thought, maybe we do." He removed his sticky hand from me, then rubbed it into my tired foot as if it was the most expensive balm on the market. It felt wonderful. Aches I didn't even know existed vanished.

The car squealed to a stop. Over the loudspeaker came a musical flow of Spanish words. Andrew replied to the chauffeur just as fluently.

"We're here. Take off your other shoe," he said. He then knocked on the glass shield separating us from the chauffeur. The passenger door opened. A dark hand reached inside, curtly pulling me out. Andrew exited his side, passed the driver a few dollars, then motioned me aside. I carried a canvas runner in each hand and walked with my shorts undone. He didn't give me a chance even to zip them up. Each step I took threatened send my shorts sliding down my legs.

We walked into the lobby of the ritzy hotel, him confidently up to the reception desk, me following close behind him in my attempt to use his body as a shield. My bare feet slapped loudly upon the cool marble tiles of the entranceway. As he spoke to the receptionist, a porter eyed my exposed crotch with open lust. The woman at the desk gave Andrew a couple sets of keys, but kept her eyes fastened fully upon me. I moved my shoes over my crotch area, my head bowing in shame.

"Make sure to get some suitable shoes while you're here," Andrew said finally, walking me to the elevator. "I don't ever want to see you in runners."

I didn’t want to be humiliated like this ever again. I'd obey!

"Barbara Ann!" The shout halted me. I turned to Andrew, watching him carefully as he leaned against the pillar near the elevator doors. I walked back to him and waited. He moved my hands to my sides, then slid a credit-card sized purple card into my pants. Then he grasped the zipper and tugged it all the way up. My hands, filled by my shoes, fluttered helplessly at my side. His manicured fingernails grazed my navel as he did up the snap. Then he stroked my tummy.

"Go on up to your husband, Barbara Ann. You’re in 1205. I'll be in touch with you." He stroked my cheek once, tweaking it with thumb and forefinger, then stepped back into the hall. I fled into the elevator and punched the 12th floor. The ornately etched brass doors slid closed, stealing his dark, grinning face from my sight. I stared at the sealed portal for a few moments then tightly sealed my eyes, letting the runners drop to the ground as I wrapped my arms around myself. My whole body quivered. Go back to my husband. That’s what he’d said. I realized that I didn’t want to do so. Go back to Dave and my boring, humdrum existence. Already the uncanny experiences of the last few hours started to lose their fantastical quality, becoming normal occurrences. Imagine how boring life with Dave would seem now!

I felt confused and melancholy as I bumbled around the hallway searching for my room. I finally found my door. I fished out the damp mauve card from my pants then popped the passcard into the slot. The electronic lock turned green. My normal, mundane life waited for me within. Or so I thought.

Little did I know that things would never be normal for me again.

§§§

I fell into my suite, my brain barely registering the decor as I searched for my husband. I soon found him, phone in hand, looking out of the ceiling-to-floor windows at the glorious view. He spoke into a cordless phone.

"Yes, and arrange for a computer loaded with the software I need. Make sure it has an ethernet card installed, okay? My suite is wired for highspeed access. And while you're at it ..."

I went over and pulled the phone from Dave's slack grip. I hung it up.

"What the fuck?" Dave said. Apparently he hadn't heard me come in.

"Do business later, hon. Right now I need you." Boy, how I needed him! The encounter with Andrew left me feeling unsatisfied and quite horny. The whole idea of being leased out to him for a week aroused me like nothing else had ever done before. Aroused me, and scared me shitless all at once. I needed to know how Dave felt about me. I tossed the phone onto the nearby couch and pulled Dave's face close to mine, kissing him gently upon the lips. He didn't kiss me back.

"Looking for second-best, Barb? I got no time for you."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw you on the plane. What he did with you."

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

"What could I say? He's my boss!"

"Exactly. You sold me to your boss for a week. I was supposed to do what? Slap him? Scratch him? Don't get angry with me because you didn't have the balls to say no."

"You looked like you were enjoying yourself."

"I didn't fuck him, Dave. Don't treat me like I did."

"How do I know you didn't? You had plenty of time alone in that limo."

"You know because I just said I didn't. Nothing happened.” I held his face firmly between my hands and stared into his eyes, willing him to see the truth. Nothing did happen between Andrew and me, but not because I didn't want something to happen. Dave didn't need to know that part, though.

I watched the tension flow out of Dave. A slight smile appeared upon his lips. "Thanks Barb. That makes me feel better."

Dave shouldn’t thank me. Thank Andrew. If he had asked me to go home with him I would’ve done so. "Will you be ready for the presentation?" I asked my husband.

Dave gently removed my hands from his cheeks. "Not really. That's why I gotta get back to work."

"I need you, hon. Right now." My hands sought out his cock, rubbing it through the thin tan cloth of his khakis. His prick stirred beneath my palms. I had him unbuckled and unzipped in a flash. "This is what I need right now."

"Barb, I don’t have time."

"We used to have time for this before the kids and the cottage, the cars and the house. That’s all back home, hon. All that’s here is you, me, and that beautiful cock of yours."

"And Mister Grissolm."

I stiffened, but pressed on. "Forget about him. Didn't I tell you I didn't screw him?"

"I didn't mean it that way, babe. I need to finish his presentation ASAP. It's my balls if I don't deliver on time."

"Even more reason for you to relax for an hour or two beforehand. Let me help you." I pulled his pants down and tugged off his briefs. He might have been protesting but his cock wasn't. His cock bobbed, almost slapping him in the belly. His bulging veins coated his stiff cock. I stood up, undoing the small buttons on his shirt one by one.

"No Barb!"

As I picked at his buttons, I ground my crotch into his, liking the way his cock bounced around between my legs. I pinned it there, moving my crotch in and out, massaging his girth with the slightly damp crease of my hot pants. Dave's chest filled like a spread bellows. Dave had quite the sexual appetite, one that used to keep me well satisfied. I was hoping that this unplanned vacation would rekindle the passion between us. I wanted to have a lover again and not just a provider for me and the boys. My short fling hadn’t been intended to hurt Dave. I truly loved him. But back then, like now, he’d failed to satisfy my needs. I had been forced to find someone else. I wanted my husband back, both in my heart and in my bed.

I bared his hairy chest by pulling his shirt open. I rose up on my toes so I could nibble just below his ears on the side of his neck, blazing a path down to his shoulder with tiny love bites. My arms wrapped around his back, my sharp claws digging into his skin. His arms went around me to support me in my endeavors. His thick, strong arms reminded me of Andrew's.

I pulled off of my husband. I quickly shucked my damp hotpants and tossed them aside. My lace blouse and bra joined them on the floor. I stood completely naked in front of my man, posing for his pleasure. My hands ran over my slight breasts, my tummy, and over my wide, generous hips. I covered the little Winnie the Pooh tattoo I had on my left hip bone. Sometimes I regretted ever getting that done, but it was much too late to worry about that now. I presented myself to my husband like a virgin on her wedding night. "Are you ready for me, hon?”

I strutted forward, climbing upon my husband and thrusting myself onto him. My leg hiked up on the side as I fitted him inside of me. He sank into my greased depths easily, making my muscles churn around him. I'd been ready to fuck for the last few hours. He grabbed my leg, holding it for support as I wrapped my hands around his shoulders and bore down upon him. I humped him, my ass working frantically, teeth digging into his skin as I nuzzled my face into his broad chest. It took me a long time to realize that although I fucked him as hard as I could, he didn't return the favour. He let me use him like a dildo with a pulse.

"Hon?"

"I really gotta get shit started, Barbara Ann."

"And I really need to come. You're going to come with me!" His cock softened within me, the ultimate insult to any woman in such circumstances. How could he go flaccid during our lovemaking? Didn't he find me desirable? Lust gave way to anger. What kind of guy was he? I jammed my pelvis so hard against him I bruised my pussy lips. My fingers dug even harder into his flesh, seeking to pierce his skin. I wanted this bastard to hurt!

"That's enough, Barb."

That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I ignored him as I frenziedly worked myself on him. If he didn't want to come with ne, fine. I'd climax without him. He just had to stay hard long enough for me to get mine.

"Barb?"

"I need you honey," I whined. I worked my ass so fast I got a stitch in my side. I really wanted to lay him down so I could bounce on top of him, but I knew that he’d bolt the moment I broke our intimate contact. I had to satisfy myself with this awkward position. I moved my right hand from his shoulder to my cleft, seeking out my slickened pleasure button that nestled between my dampened slit lips, swaddled in its blanket of fine pink flesh. I tweaked it with a force bordering on ruthlessness as I humped him. "Fuck me, honey. Push that cock inside me as deep as you can."

"Enough, Barbara Ann. Get off of me!"

In all our years together, Dave had never raised his hand to me. There had been many times that I would've deserved a slap or two, but Dave was slow to anger and the first to walk away from a confrontation. Being so strong made him very careful around people smaller than him. He always struggled to maintain total control over himself. Today, he lost his eternal composure. He pushed me off of him, running forward with me until my back and skull smacked against the wall. He gripped my left breast tightly, clenching on it so hard that the flesh bulged through the gaps between his fingers. His hard, wet cock jutted out from the bristling thatch of brown hair at his crotch. There was no signs of softness now!

"I told you later! Listen, I was supposed to ship out the entire presentation last week. The slides, the brochures – the works. I decided to save some of my departmental budget by shipping it on the same flight we were on. Nothing's here, Barb. It's on its way to fucking South Africa! I called the office to see if they could wire the data over. Nothing's available. The data stores are empty. It's as if the whole fucking project never existed. I don't know where any of the information is! All I have are the personal notes from my work laptop Stateside. The office will wire me the PDFs for the promotional materials so I can get them printed locally, but that's all I got. Now do you understand why I gotta get cracking on this?

As Dave ranted his grip increased its painful pressure upon my tit. My hardening nipple that dug into his palm didn't trouble him. I should've felt frightened, angered even. Certainly not excited! I loved to see that sexy glint in his eye, to have his rough hands upon me. The reasons didn’t matter, only the result. I placed my hands upon his forearm gently, stroking him with feather light touches. A long, shuddering sigh escaped from my lips.