Jim Stephenson was not a people person. He had inherited the dealership from his father who had made a fortune in the post-war years when dealers could not get cars fast enough to fill their orders. A new car sold for almost double its suggested list price.
When Jim took over the business from his father they were selling over a hundred new units per month and as many used off the used lot. The dealership employed over a hundred people and carried a six million dollar inventory.
There were certain perks being the dealer's live-in lover. I had been promoted from salesperson to New Car manager. Along with the promotion came a doubling of my salary and a choice of a top of the line automobile as my company supplied car.
I shared Jim's sprawling ranch-house located in the Ceder forest of the Beverly Woods, an exclusive patch of wilderness north of the city where the who's-who lived their private lives.
Jim had purchased the large house complete with an in-ground pool and guest house for just under three million from the previous owner, the proprietor of a large fast food franchise. It was an ideal location for entertaining our friends and business associates.
Of course there was a down side of my liason with Stephenson, he was not the most handsome man that I could have hoped for. Standing only five foot seven with a caved-in forehead he did not present an impressive figure of a man. Stephenson suffered from a lack of self-confidence and tended to avoid problems rather than confront them. Having me as a trophy-wife on his arm helped bolster his confidence.
Part of the duties of the New Car Manager was handling the "House Deals'. House deals were deals with no salesperson's commission involved, either buyers who wanted to deal directly with the dealership in hopes of getting a better deal or fleet accounts.
I was dealing with the purchasing agent for a fairly large stationery company that wanted us to put a bid in on fifteen units, five sedans and ten minivans. The sale would be close to half a million dollars with a tidy bundle for the dealership.
The purchasing agent for Bunting-Gillis was a large older fellow name Fred Peacock. Fred was in his late fifties or early sixties and completely bald. He stood well over six foot and looked about two hundred and fifty pounds.
Peacock was a jovial fellow and easy enough to do business with but for such a large purchase he expected me to throw him a bone, to be specific all of mine. It would be an opportunity for him to screw a not bad looking twenty-seven-year-old blond with a dynamite body. Fred knew in order to get the deal I would be willing to drop my panties.
Fred chose the Town and Country Motel on the motel strip leading into the city. The Town and Country was a better class motel with nicely furnished air-conditioned rooms. Fred booked the room for the entire afternoon and hung the "Do not disturb" card on the doorknob as we entered.
Knowing Peacock expected a lady rather than a hooker I had deliberately dressed conservatively as if it were another day at the office. A Navy skirt-suit over a white blouse and my finest lingerie.
I thew my jacket over the back of the black leather chair and began unbuttoning the forint of my blouse. Peacock's eyes were fastened to my cleavage as the front of my blouse opened revealing my overflowing white satin bra. The bra was demi-cup allowing the top hemispheres of my breasts to remain bare, revealing a hint of the pink aureole of my nipples threatening to pop out.
Unfastening the final button I pulled the blouse out from my skirt and peeled the sleeves off of my arms. I casually peeled the blouse off and tossed it on top of my jacket.
Peacock continued to watch as I pinched the front fastener on the bra allowing the cups to pop open and their precious cargo to tumble out into his view. Fred's eyes were treated to an un-obstructed view of my bared 38C tits. My boobs were creamy mounds of alabaster white skin crowned by large pink nipples. My teats were like giant pencil erasure jutting out half-an-inch from the aureole. I knew Fred was already imagining what it would be like to wrap his lips around them.
As he admired my naked breasts my hand unfastened my skirt and I allowed it to drop to the floor around my ankles. Casually I stepped out of the pile of Italian linen ands kicked it aside. I now stood before Peacock proudly in my snow-white silk panties and a pair of thigh-high stockings suspended by a scarlet garter belt. My four inch heels made my shapely legs rise up to that heaven hidden by my panties.
I dropped to my knees on the plush carpet before where my awe-struck admirer stood.
Peacock did not protest as I unfastened his trousers and reached in to extract his rock hard cock.
Peacock was a big man in many ways, his fully erect cock must have exceeded ten inches with its shiny mushroom-shape helmet. I guided him to my lips.
Cocks always feel bigger when they are in your mouth than when you look at them. Fred';s cock slid across my tongue like a the trunk of a gigantic tree. Inch after inch it passed between my lips as the massive cockhead journeyed towards my throat.
