"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!"
My wife was waving her arms around over her head and looked like she'd just won the lottery. I stopped loading the dishwasher and stared at her, "Something up babe?!"
She looked like she was starting to hyperventilate, "We've got... oh shit, we've got an interview... for... bloody hell! We've got an interview for the Trinity Island gig!!!"
My eyes felt like they were going to drop out of my head, "No fucking way!?"
She grinned back at me, "Way! Take a look."
She pushed her laptop round and I scanned the email on the screen, "Fuck!" My wife squealed in delight, "Holy shit, that's fucking awesome!"
She was now jumping around the apartment, "Oh my god! Yes, yes, yes!" She threw herself at me "Holy shit baby this is the gig we've been waiting for, this is the one that's going to set us up!!" She started to cry happy tears, "One more gig and then it'll be just you and me and our chance to start a family!"
"Slow down baby, it's not in the bag yet, it's an interview."
"I know but Bertolini said that if we got to interview it was 99% in the bag and he's the one that recommended us!"
I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her gently on the lips, "OK babe, let's calm down, remember, professional wins the day. When's the interview?
She scanned the email, "Holy shit! It's this morning 11:00!"
"OK, that gives us two hours, no sweat."
My wife took a deep breathe, "OK, coffee, I need coffee and then I'm going to see what I can find out about the place."
"Make sure you read everything on their web site, it's what they want their persona to be."
"Of course, what are you going to do?"
"I'm going for a run. When I get back we need to get into game mode." I kissed her tenderly and squeezed her breasts.
"OK babe, love you."
"Love you too." I got changed and set off for my run. It's the best way I've found to reduce stress and focus my mind on what needs to be done. She was right though, this gig would be a game changer for us.
For the last eight years we have been professional hosts or house keepers if you like. We work for the rich and famous, mostly the rich and in recent times for the mega rich. As in most things it's not what you know, but who you know that gets you work.
We were doing very well, the job usually entails doing nothing much, then the phone would ring and the client or the client's family or friends or whoever would be arriving in a few hours. We'd go into game mode and get everything just right, just how the client wants it. Between these hectic periods we would have loads of down time which we put to use getting more qualifications and experience that made us more marketable. We were putting away quite a lot of money each month and living a life of luxury... when we weren't working our asses off.
We were saving up to start our own agency and of course start a family, our life was completely on hold until we could go it alone. That was fine though, we loved it.
Just over two years ago we were working for a wealthy banker in New York. He was great because he worked an 80 hour week and was unmarried. Then one day, completely out of the blue he told us that the bank president wanted us to work for him. This was a huge step up and since then we've had a series of gigs each one a recommendation from our previous employer. It culminated with a six month cruise with an Italian Billionaire whom we knew only as Bertolini. We sailed the world on his mega yacht making stops where he would hold closed door meetings. We had no idea what he did or who his contacts were and we didn't care. One of the fundamental rules of the game is, don't ask questions. We are good at the game.
Bertolini paid us very well for our discretion and we were close to our dream, we just needed one more really good gig. At the end of the cruise Bertolini asked if we would like him to recommend us to an ultra exclusive resort on a tropical island called Trinity. Obviously we jumped at the chance. He said that the roles are never advertised and the contract is strictly one year only. The salary would be enormous! He said it would take about four weeks and if we got an interview it pretty much meant the job was ours.
It had been five weeks!
Focus.
I pushed myself hard and shaved 20 seconds off my personal best time, I was elated. Back in the apartment my wife was examining the Trinity island website, "Hi babe, you're not going to believe this, you don't hire a room at Trinity Island resort, you hire the resort... all of it! I've checked, there are no prices anywhere."
"I guess it's like buying a Rolls Royce, if you have to ask how much it is, you can't afford it."
"I guess so. This place looks phenomenal!"
We'd looked at the website when Bertolini had first told us about the gig, but not done any more investigating since, there was no point getting our hopes up if it didn't come off. I looked over her shoulder as she clicked through the Gallery images, "Holy shit, it really is incredible!"
"Their tag line is, 'Whatever it Takes.'"
"Wow! This is incredible babe. I'm going to grab a shower." I kissed her cheek and, as I usually do, I caressed her breasts.
She grinned, "OK baby, I'll keep looking at these photos imagining myself in each and every one."
I confess, I was doing the same. We had become accustomed to living in luxury, but Trinity Island was the next level of utter opulence. It was daunting though! The level of service required would have to be nothing less than exceptional, 24/7.
I got out of the shower with strengthened determination. We had worked exceptionally hard to get where we are now and this last gig would be enough to set us up for the next stage in our lives. I went into the bedroom to get dressed and found my wife on the bed naked. Her legs were spread wide, one hand caressing her tits, the other rubbing her clit, "Hi baby," she grinned, "you know the drill!"
I dropped my towel and moved between her legs, "I sure do baby, let's do it!"
Over the years we'd learnt that long intimate sessions were more than likely to be interrupted. We have developed our own version of the quickie that worked and we, quite frankly, loved doing it. "Make it hard for me baby, rub your cock and make it hard." I stared at her pussy and the wetness on her fingers, my cock quickly rose to attention.
She moved her hand from her tits and squeezed my balls, "Oh god yes, I want you inside me," her fingers moved faster over her clit and her breathing became faster, "Oh baby, I want you to cum in me... ahh...oh yes... ahh..." I moved closer so that the tip of my cock was only inches away from her opening. "Ohh yes, oh god... " she released my balls and pinched her nipples, "oh fuck, here it comes baby, you know... ohhh fuck... you know what to do, what I want... oh fuck, YES!"
As her orgasm washed through her body I buried my cock inside her, "Ahhh fuck! Oh my god, yes baby, fuck me, fuck me hard... oh god... ahh...oh shit here comes...another... ahhh, yes! She dug her nails into my buttocks and I unloaded inside her. "Oh shit yes, oh god, fill me up baby fill me up, shit that feels so good."
Regaining her composure she patted my buttocks, "Nice one babe, it never ceases to amaze me how you can cum so fast and yet still manage to have leisurely sessions when you last for ages."
I smiled and kissed her with as much love and devotion as I could muster, "It's having you, my darling, that makes all things possible."
She smiled coyly, "You sweet talker! OK, get that cock of yours out of me, I'm going to have a shower. We need to get our game faces on."
At the appointed time we had joined our meeting and waited. At precisely 11:00am the meeting started. A man wearing a very sharp suit, white shirt and black tie appeared, "Good morning, my name is Brett, I'm chief of security at Trinity Island."
We both gave our best corporate smile and chorused the reply, "Good morning."
"Thank you for attending at such short notice," he looked down at something out of view, "may I call you by your first names?" We nodded. "Marvellous, good morning Susannah."
My wife smile and nodded, "Good morning Brett, please call me Suzie."
"Suzie? Lovely, good morning Suzie and good morning Paul."