An Executive Party

(This story is the property of its author, H. K. Smythe. Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited.

There is a prequel to this story, "How I Became a Company Whore," providing background information on one of the main characters, Myra Reasoner nee Hernandez. It's not necessary to understand this story, although it does answer the question of how Myra became a company whore.)

An Executive Party

Michael Reasoner

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."