The cocktail party was somewhat of an obligation. By that I mean when your boss has a party for her daughter's graduation, it's not something that can be ignored. What really bothered me was the fact that it was on a Saturday afternoon and I had planned to get away and do some fishing. As it was, I had to call my buddy and cancel out and actually, I consider my weekends to be my time, not his.
I walked in around two in the afternoon and even before I could find a quiet corner to hide in, he came over and ushered me over to his wife and his daughter. I hadn't met either of them so there was a logical reason for the introduction. Both women were attractive.
Well I guess Mrs. Bradcliff could be described as a MILF in the common vernacular, actually sort of a trophy wife of sorts. Her daughter was hot but came across as a bit self centered. A statuesque blonde with rather large and voluptuous breasts. Of course my mind did a bit of evaluating and judging and by the size of Mrs. Bradcliff's busts, I concluded that what her daughter had were what god had given her and not what some plastic surgeon had implanted.
Not being a very good conversationalist, I did the smile and nodding thing and asked a few questions and all the other social pleasantries that are expected when you meet the guest of honor. Fortunately, my boss moved on and escorted the two of them to some other late arrivals at the party.
Breathing a sigh of relief, and being handed a rum coke, I again looked for a quiet corner to watch the show. I would imagine that most of the single women at the party were college buddies of Lynn, Mr. Bradshaw's daughter. The rest were probably friends and family or acquaintances that enjoy this sort of get together. Unfortunately I seemed to be one of only three unattached men at the party and soon the sharks began to circle.
Mothers were beginning to come over and introducing themselves and their daughters. The small chatter always seemed to include questions about my availability. You know the inevitable questions as to whether I was attached or available.
Not too subtly, some of the older women seemed more interested for their own information, the ones who had come unescorted..
Age wise, I figure I was somewhere between the average married woman there, and their daughters or the girlfriends of Lynn.
I was working on my third drink and trying to figure out how much longer I'd be forced to stay when the mood of the gathering subtly began to change. Alcohol always seems to do that and there was plenty of that this afternoon.
I began to notice the subtle glances and false starts as mothers began encouraging their daughters to come over and start conversations.
In the beginning I was doing well. Or at least I thought I was but somewhere along the line, the alcohol began to work and the predatory females began to become more daring. Among them was our guest of honor, Lynn.
She was the first. In the beginning she came over and sat at the table with me. It was a pleasant chat, you know, what do you do, or what did you get your degree in, those sorts of things. But soon she was joined by others and each was introduced.
As the group got larger, the innuendos and questions and subtle probing became more direct. It was almost as if some sort of competition or contest had evolved and I had no way out.
Two of the young girls became a bit more aggressive and when the band returned and began to play again; I ended up on the patio dancing with one of Lynn's friends.
Others joined us and soon I was being traded around by several of the girls. No sooner then a dance would end, another would start and I had a different partner.
Don't get me wrong, I enjoy women and sure, I do dance fairly well, but the band had a good crowd on the patio, and they never seemed to want to take a break. That's when one of the girls, Amy came to the rescue.
We had shared a dance and even before the music stopped, she took my hand and led me off the floor.
Now Amy is a natural blonde with a sort of pageboy hairdo. Probably she wears a C bra and has a slender waist and very enticing hips. Her lips are full and she has the deepest light blue eyes I have ever seen. We stood by the railing looking out across the lawn at the lake when she turned to me and whispered.
"Want to get out of here with me? I know a place that's much quieter, and sort of, well romantic? Care to take me there?" I thought for a minute and decided I'd been here long enough to say my goodbye's and leave. She pointed out her car and told me to follow her in mine.
She left just as I went to find my host and say my goodbyes. Before l could locate Mr. Bradshaw, his daughter and one of her friends came up to me and made practically the same proposition that I had accepted with Amy.
I was as polite as possible and explained I had another commitment. That was when Lynn's friend pressed a small piece of paper in my hand. Taking it I put it in my pocket and left.
Following Amy to the outskirts of town she pulled into the parking lot of a little restaurant bordering the lake. She was right; it was out of the way and very secluded.
She waited for me to catch up with her and we both went in. Selecting a table in the back that overlooking the lake, I ordered drinks. I was at a bit of a disadvantage because she seemed to know a lot more about me than I knew about her so naturally I began asking about her job and a lot of other, safe topics.
Apparently she was some sort of assistant to Betty Bradshaw, Mr. Bradshaw's wife. But when I tried to delve deeper, she somehow she turned the conversation around and she began asking me questions. Soon it became more personal and her questions more probing.
Before the evening was over she had my Email address and phone number. Questions moved to Lynn. Had I ever dated her, what did I think of her and more pointedly, would I be interested in dating her.
I explained that I had never met either Betty Bradshaw or her daughter until this afternoon at the party. And no Mrs. Bradshaw hadn't asked if I would like to date her. And no, Mr. Bradshaw had never brought his family into any conversations I had had with him.
Near the end of the evening, she had finished four drinks and was getting touchy feely. I really didn't mind but she was getting a bit obvious. It began when she kicked her shoes off and sort of slid down in her chair so she could put her foot between my legs. It was amazing what she could do with her foot.
If smiles or facial expressions could be any more seductive, I'd have been drooling by that time. She would run her tongue around her full lips and lower her eyes almost inviting me to say something I might regret. I was going to suggest we call it a night when she excused herself and went to the ladies room.
When she returned she moved to the chair next to me and put her hand on my thigh. I held still as her fingers began walking up my thigh and came to rest on my cock.
I had been swaying back and forth between erect and semi erect ever since she did that foot thing, and I guess at that point I was in one of my hard, phases.
You simply don't say no to a beautiful blonde who has her hand on your cock even if you have slacks on. I turned to her to see what expression she had on her face. She just gave me an impish grin and clutched my cock a little harder.
She began: "Big! You're big. Know what I just did? Here, give me your hand, I'll show you."
Without letting go of my cock, she took my hand and moving it under the table, put it on her knee. Then, she slowly slid our hands up until her skirt was crumpled in her lap and her wet pussy was pressing against the palm of my open hand.
I paused a second as she let go and turning to me smiled and whispered. "I took them off in the ladies room. My panties I mean. Like what you feel? It needs attention. I really love oral. My pussy is getting juicy just thinking about you having your lips on my clit and I have my right hand on exactly what I need to suck while you're doing me. Let's go to my place. It's near by so you can leave your car here. I'll bring you back later to pick it up."
She had me really interested, and her steamy pussy had already coated my hand with her warm slippery wetness. I was really tempted, but decided things were moving just a bit too fast so I made some excuse about having a late appointment and moved my hand back up on the table.
She frowned, yet her hand became more active, beginning to clutch and tug at my cock. Finally I promised to call her tomorrow and walked her out to her car.
A very warm passionate kiss goodnight and I walked stiff legged, back to my car and went home. Over the weekend I received three or four phone calls, which I never answered. Then on Monday morning Mr. Bradshaw called me into his office.
"Brad," he began, "I'm going to be out of the country for three weeks and I want a favor. My wife and daughter are going to be staying up at our summer place and since it's rather isolated, I'd like you to go and watch over them. Oh Betty and Lynn will be ok but my wife suggested that I have you come on up and stay with them until I get back."
I really didn't want to baby sit his family, but I knew I'd end up on his shit list if I said no. He must have seen me hesitate because he went on.
"Betty's secretary will be there too, and actually there wont be anything much to do except get some rest. I know you'll enjoy taking a break from things here at the company."
So it was done. Handing me a map and telling me to go home and pack, I was dismissed. He was right, it was isolated but like everything he owned, it was extravagantly elegant.
It was Amy who greeted me at the door.
"So our shy Brad is going to be with us for a couple of weeks I hear. And Mrs. Bradshaw personally requested you. I hope you hold up. I mean taking care of three women in isolation."
I stammered and managed a half hearted, "Yeah, I think I will." She went on.
"You know Mr. Bradshaw and Betty...well their marriage is one of convenience not affection. Betty is Lynn's mother but actually Ben isn't her father. She was an accident. Ben is.....well impotent and always has been but that accident was good for show and he didn't mind her little infidelity and forgave her."
It was my turn to ask some questions. "So what does Mrs. Bradshaw do that she needs a secretary? I mean what do you do for her?"
