This story is strictly a product of my imagination. The people within it are real, however their names have been changed and the events that take place are strictly my fantasy and have not actually happened. (Yet?) For reasons guided only by my own masochism, I have shown "Amanda" this story (Perhaps in the hope that she'd help make it come true?) and she enjoyed it very much. I had such a good time writing this that I felt I should share it with anyone who was interested in what I consider decent erotic fiction.
The contents of this story include matters of a highly adult nature. If you are not over the age of 18, or are offended by such subject matter as explicit sexual descriptions, incest, or lesbianism, stop now and do not read any further. This is not for you. Otherwise, if you are an adult and have an appetite for compelling erotica, please be my guest and enjoy this story. You can e-mail comments to me at my profile address. Please include the words, "story feedback" in the subject, because I will not open unknown e-mail.
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My name is Jake. I'm 32 years old and I live in Las Vegas, where I work in a "boiler room". We are one of the good ones that doesn't cheat our customers or mislead them with promises of "free gifts" or "incentives" to buy our product. We have some huge customers such as Century 21 and Caesar's Palace, so we don't need to cheat our customers. We sell printed advertising goods such as baseball caps, tee shirts, pens, and coffee mugs at a very good price. The problem is that most businesspeople don't think to buy these items on their own, which necessitates the need to hire salesmen whose job it is to make "cold calls" to customers and convince them that they would benefit from buying our products.
As you can imagine, this business attracts a lot of "lizards" that would not hesitate in resorting to improper practices in order to get the sale, especially since they are strictly commissioned employees. That is where I come in. I am the head of the department that listens to the phone calls (Yes, all the calls are actually recorded and monitored) and makes sure that the salespeople quote current rates and don't promise customers a trip to Paris or some other bullshit just to get the deal.
I have a very diverse group in my department, and all of us are or have been top salespeople at one time or another (It's a requirement for the job). My employees include both men and women, varying in age from 18-63. There's Patty, the oldest one in the group. She's a really cool mama that's been there and done that. Twice! Then there's Dave, an 18-year-old nut case who is one of the craziest sonzabitches on the planet. He's a superb salesman who really understands the sales process and uses his craziness to his advantage by entertaining the customers while doing his pitch. But they're not who this story is focusing on.
That honor goes to Amanda, a slim, petite 20-year-old blonde goddess with a perfectly proportioned body. Her softball sized boobs and shapely hips exactly fit her 5'4" frame. She is naturally strikingly beautiful and even looks terrific without any makeup on at all and her hair tucked up in a baseball cap. When she really does herself up with makeup and takes the time to do her hair, she turns both men's and women's heads wherever she goes. She is without question the equal of any supermodel on the planet.
We are extremely casual in our department and often joke around and openly discuss topics of a sexual nature. One day, the conversation turned to sex as it often does, specifically the pros and cons of chest hair on men and how much of a turn-on it is for women. I have a lot of chest hair, as everyone knows because I often wear polo-type shirts with most of the buttons undone. Amanda knows that I have the hots for her and often plays on this fact by teasing me from time to time. This was no exception, as Amanda looked right at me and announced to the entire group that she loves nothing better than playing with a guy's chest hair while going down on him.
