Mother Settling The Score Ch 06

"Where the hell have you been?" Herb Henderson demanded.

Herb was the last person Claire wanted to run into when she first returned to Castle Square. Preoccupied with the challenges that awaited her on her first day back at the office, she'd stepped into the lobby elevator and pressed for the 42nd floor without looking first. The doors slid closed and she found herself alone with him, staring close into his red, scowling face.

"You know exactly where. Not that it's any of your business." Claire struggled to keep her tone calm and even.

"You've been gone for weeks. I haven't heard a word from you!"

"I've kept in touch with Robyn. And I've been working remotely, conferencing with Simone every day. I talk to the people who matter." She watched the progress of the lights overhead anxiously: 27, 28, 29...

"I can see what you spent the firm's money on up at that spa." Herb looked Claire up and down. The changes to her face were subtle, a few cosmetic touch-ups that tightened her neck and jawline, and a brow lift that lent her lovely eyes a fresh, youthful appearance. But even in her tailored gray business ensemble, it was the changes in her figure and bearing that were most obvious. Seeing his wife so transformed, the reality of what he had lost seemed to hit Herb fully for the first time. The look on his face was an ugly mixture of disgust and arousal.

That combination frightened Claire more than simple fury would have. Anger fueled by lust was a highly combustible and deadly mixture.

They reached her floor at last and she dashed out into the corridor. She was already halfway down the hall to Simone Chandler's office by the time the elevator doors closed behind her.

"Claire, darling," Simone embraced her. "You look..."

"Terrified? Just a touch."

"I was going to say that you look radiant. What's wrong?"

"I just rode up with Herb. He won't back off. He's scaring me."

Simone sniffed. "Herb's as dangerous as my Aunt Fran's Pomeranian. Burke will handle him." She led Claire to the dark leather Chesterfield sofa by her bookcase. "So, tell me, how did things go at the Clinic?"

"Why don't you tell me what you think." Claire stood and turned slowly in a circle, displaying her new figure for her boss.

Simone clapped her hands in appreciation. "Marvelous. Let's have a real look. Strip for me, darling!"

Claire smiled shyly. Having her husband look lustfully at her made her skin crawl, but Simone's frank admiration excited her. Quickly shrugging out of her jacket and pulling off her skirt, she tossed the suit onto the desk. She untied the bow of her light periwinkle silk blouse, unbuttoning and discarding it as well, to finally stand before her boss in only a white bra, matching panties, and black heels.

"Icing before the cake." Claire unhooked the front closure of her bra, freeing her breasts from their satin prison. Simone gasped aloud at the sight of her enormous tits. They thrust out high and round from her rib cage as if untouched by gravity, lush and inviting.

"Wow! You were a knock-out before, but now..." Simone walked around behind Claire. "I'm a little jealous." Silk fabric brushed against Claire's shoulder blades as Simone leaned against her, cupping her breasts from behind. "They look and feel so natural."

"Cohesive implants. Doctor Burnett said that I was already big enough to make them work. I'm up from a 37C to 39E."

"Really? I guess that old dog has learned a few new tricks. He's been holding out on me. Your tits were your best points before, but now..." Simone traced her fingers around Claire's dusky pink areolae; her nipples stiffened immediately. "Still sensitive, I see."

"More than ever..." Claire shivered with excitement when Simone spun her around and dipped her head to suck on one of her nipples while rolling her thumb over the other.

"You and I will need to spend a lot more time together, from now on."

"I-I'd like that." Claire's heart swelled with pride. Her stay at Burnett's hadn't been just about surgery, not at all. True, she'd undergone a little liposuction to streamline her hips and belly, but she'd worked damn hard on her body. Under the guidance of dietitians and personal trainers, she'd completely changed her eating habits. Claire had been a champion rower in school, ages ago, and she embraced this opportunity to rediscover her athleticism and physical strength. She'd put in long hours of cardio, swimming, and running in addition to working out with weights every day. The result was that she'd returned from the spa leaner, stronger, and ten pounds lighter: a slim-waisted, big-boobed vision in alluringly toned and sculpted flesh.

Simone slipped her hands under the elastic of Claire's panties and eased them down her thighs. The redhead's prominent pussy mound was smooth, soft, and permanently denuded of even a wisp of hair. A jolt of arousal shot through her as her boss's fingers probed up into her vagina, wriggling about tantalizingly as they explored her sex. She mewled and bit her lip. Labiaplasty and vaginal tightening at Doctor Burnett's skilled hands had gifted her with the snug, tiny pussy of a teenaged virgin...minus the nuisance of a cherry.

Claire's body had been literally and deliberately redesigned for sex.

"I'll bet having a cock going into this tight little hole feels more amazing than ever." Simone brought her fingers to her own lips, sucking Claire's juices from them.

"Oooo...I haven't had a proper fuck in months!" Claire confessed. "Doctor Burnett only pronounced me fully recovered day before yesterday, and I couldn't wait to get home to you and Burke and Matt."

"Two months without sex? How dreadful."

"Okay, not

completely

without sex. The therapists and nurses are all practical experts on female anatomy, you know that, and they were so attentive. I got sucked off and fingered as often as I could have asked for. And Doctor Burnett and the other doctors checked in on me often. I always had pricks to suck and play with. But no cocks up my new cunt."

"We need to do something about that, right away." Simone looked sympathetic and thoughtful. "Why don't you come by the penthouse around seven this evening? Perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone."

"What exactly do you have in mind?" Claire asked, intrigued.

"Come on up and you'll find out. Just let me make a few calls, first." Simone walked back to sit at her desk, suddenly businesslike. "You go settle into your new office--I've moved you up here, two doors down from me. And don't give Herb another thought."

†††

Herb Henderson barged into Burke Chandler's office unannounced, slamming the door behind him. Chandler held his hand up for silence while continuing a telephone conversation, apparently unperturbed by the intrusion.

"Absolutely. This evening at seven, that's right. Look, I have a personnel issue here. I'll be back in touch. Bye." He hung up the phone and looked impatiently at Herb. "Well?"

Herb had never known Burke to appear off-balance or to betray any surprise at the unexpected; it was one facet of his tactical dominance that Herb himself had long strived to imitate. Still, Burke's dismissiveness unnerved him. "I-I..."

"Spit it out, man. I hope this isn't too complicated. I have an eleven o'clock."

"Complicated? Not a bit. You're fucking my wife."

"Yes, I am." Burke steepled his fingers in front of his mouth and leaned back in his chair. "She's quite enjoying it...isn't she? Unless she's expressed some concern to you...?"

"You're all fucking Claire! It's outrageous! You think you can just--" Burke's unruffled response both infuriated Herb and threw him completely off-balance. "I just saw her. She looks like a complete bimbo. You paid for that!"

"Yes, the firm's generous medical coverage is a benefit we're very proud of." Burke smiled. "You know, actually I'm glad you came in this morning. I want to talk to you about your recent job performance."

Herb stood pole-axed, staring uncomprehendingly at Burke. "My job performance," he repeated numbly.

"Yes. I want to discuss this with you

personally

because you've done remarkably good work for us for many years. And I understand that you're going through a difficult adjustment at home, what with Claire, shall we say, asserting her independence a bit more now. But you've been behaving rather erratically. And frankly, I can't just ignore this outburst."

"What are you saying?" Herb's stomach clenched. He thought he might vomit on his boss's carpet.

To his shock, Burke laughed out loud. "Oh, don't look so alarmed. It's nothing drastic. Simone and I are discussing a lateral move here."

"Lateral...?"

"That's right. For now, Matt's going to take over your managerial responsibilities and some of your litigation. Take some pressure off of you, while you work through this...whatever this is. And while we decide what your future role at Travis & Chandler will be."

"Matt Ellis."

Burke made the sort of face one might make while trying to explain long division to a fidgety seven-year-old. "Yes, Herb. Matt Ellis. I know you two are friends, and you work well together. So you shouldn't have a problem taking a support role and giving him a hand with the transition. Am I wrong?"

That was the last straw. Herb was not impulsive. He always scoped out every angle before walking into a client meeting or court presentation. He always had a plan, and a back-up plan, and a back-up for the back-up plan. He'd realized that storming into Burke's office was a mistake even as he'd turned the doorknob. But damn it, what

was

a man supposed to do in a situation like this? He saw that he'd boxed himself in and that there was only one path forward from here.

"Burke, I resign. Effective immediately."

Burke let his breath out slowly. "No. No, Herb, I can't let you do that. For your own good. You've been one of our key people for too long. You know our secrets--and we know yours. We have all that unfortunate video of you and those, how shall we say, 'informal social gatherings' with our clients and public officials. So I'm afraid you'd find any professional future outside these offices very, ah, limited."

"I did those things

at your direction!

"

"Nonsense. We're all sworn officers of the court. What you're claiming would be an incredible breach of ethics, not to mention criminal in itself. So I'm sure you won't find any records of such alleged guidance. Nothing written down. And any undisclosed recordings of our conversations you might have made without my consent would themselves be a felony in this state." Burke's face darkened. "Unless the D.A.'s office has you wearing a wire?"

The threat implied simply by Chandler's voicing such a suspicion chilled Herb's blood.

"I'm joking!" Burke laughed aloud. "I'd know if you'd gone to the Feds, for God's sake. Simone fucks the District Attorney and her husband on Tuesdays. What's happened to your sense of humor, old boy?"

Burke glanced at his watch. He lifted the receiver of his desk phone, paused, and looked up again as if puzzled that Herb hadn't just dissolved into the air. "Was there something else?"

Herb stood in disbelieving silence for another moment. "No. No, sir."

"Good. Get together with Matt after lunch and--no, sorry, do it in the morning. He and I have meetings later."

"Yes, sir." Herb backed away and quietly let himself out the door while Burke placed another call.

†††

Claire had been inside Simone and Burke's penthouse atop the Sabre on one previous occasion. They'd hosted a private reception for a Middle Eastern client. "If you want real privacy, live in the clouds," Simone had quipped while giving her the tour of the two-story glass-enclosed residence. She was only slightly exaggerating: rising one hundred and fifteen stories above the streets of the North Hills, the Sabre towered five hundred feet above the next tallest structure in the city. Like the old gods on Olympus, here the Chandlers did as they would.

"Darling!" Simone looked surprised as she opened the door to admit Claire.

"I'm sorry. Am I early?"

"Not at all. You're an indecently punctual woman," Simone purred. She wore a stunning peacock blue kaftan and evening makeup, with no jewelry other than her diamond and platinum wedding band, not even earrings. The dress laced up the front from a point a few inches below her navel and opened out in a widening "V" as it rose, barely covering her nipples. The lace tied in a loose bow at the round neckline to prevent the garment from slipping off of her shoulders altogether. The effect was to drape and accentuate the slender contours of her figure while leaving her torso essentially naked. After decades, Simone still moved with the spare grace of a runway model; blue silk floated and trailed behind her on the gold-veined Calacatta as she led Claire through the long foyer. "I confess I'd hoped I might have the fellows to myself for a little bit longer. We were all just catching up on old times. What are you drinking?"

"Riesling?" Claire had only a moment to wonder who "the fellows" might be, before entering the Chandlers' expansive living room to confront five of the most breathtaking young men she'd ever seen. All were over six feet tall and powerfully built, with broad shoulders and long limbs. Claire was sure she'd never met any of them, but they looked somehow familiar. Casually dressed, they lounged about the room with beer bottles or glasses in hand looking as if they'd just gathered at a bar to watch a game. "I'm afraid Burke won't be joining us this evening. He's got a late meeting." Simone took Claire's arm and guided her over to the group. "I called in a few ringers. This is Gabe Daniels. Gabe, Claire Henderson."

"Always a pleasure to meet Simone's friends," Gabe flashed Claire a wide, telegenic grin. The hand that reached for hers was nearly the size of her head.

Claire was not an avid basketball fan but she knew that name and now she recognized the star shooting guard for the New Derby Demons. Twenty-eight-year-old Gabriel Daniels was not only celebrated for his on-court performance. He was a cultural phenomenon with his own global brand. His image seemed to be everywhere in the media all the time, on television and the web, his game face glowering from the eight-story video billboard over City Center.

Her knees gave way beneath her. Gabe easily caught her in one steely arm, no more trouble for him than if she were an unstrung toy marionette. Even as she cursed herself for a starstruck idiot, she knew that it was not his celebrity that had overwhelmed her. It was just...

him

. He embodied raw masculinity and charisma combined with easy self-confidence and stunning good looks. His dark, gold-flecked eyes betrayed a flickering shadow of protectiveness as he set her back on her feet.

"Gabe, why don't you carry on with the introductions?" Simone gave him a light peck on the cheek and headed for the bar. "It looks like Claire could definitely use that drink." Claire barely heard her, already intoxicated by this man in a way that nothing from her hostess's famously well-curated wine vault possibly could.

"Yes, ma'am." Gabe's teammates quickly formed a tight circle around Claire. "This here's my squad: Vince, J.D., Marcus, and Bobby."

"Man...Simone said you were hot, but God

damn

." Vince held her hand as he spoke. His voice rumbled through her bones.

"T-Thank you," Claire struggled to regain some composure. The players all towered over her, young giants in their prime, every one of them exemplifying the upper bounds of human physical endowment. Her imagination was afire with the promise of the evening. Her thighs grew warm.

"Now man, you know she always delivers," Bobby said.

"Simone and I go all the way back," Gabe explained. "She does all my team negotiations herself. She got people to handle my brands."

"Yes...I handle

everything

, darling." Simone returned with drinks in hand. Claire accepted the offered tumbler with uncertain hands and took a quick gulp. Her throat burned and her eyes watered.

"That's scotch!"

"Scotch and

Riesling

," Simone corrected cheerfully. "I really didn't think a little white was going to cut it tonight." She hugged Claire reassuringly, then stepped back from the group and undid the bow of her gown with one pull. A shrug of her shoulders and the garment drifted to the floor around her feet, leaving her nude other than for knee-high doeskin boots. Standing with legs planted wide, she raised her own champagne flute high and announced "So much for the preliminaries...Gentlemen, we are gathered here this evening to christen this vessel, the good slut Claire Henderson!"

The guys cheered. Without a word, J.D. lifted Claire's cocktail dress from behind. His hands slid up her outer thighs, over her buttocks and hips. Marcus reached for her. She drew back instinctively. The Demons excited rather than frightened her, but she was overwhelmed by how quickly events were moving.

Gabe got that. "Back off, guys. Show some respect. Let the lady make herself comfortable." His teammates fell back at his command.

Swallowing hard, Claire grasped the hem of the black jersey dress and pulled it slowly up over her head as the men watched. She unbuckled her heels and kicked them away. There were sharp intakes of breath from several of the men when the bra came off. They stared in open-mouthed astonishment at the ravishing creature in their midst. They'd come here expecting to have their fun with two sexy middle-aged women, but not this: from her small, pedicured feet to the silken flesh of her long elegant legs, her tiny waist, and finally her big beautiful breasts with their large nipples, she was physical perfection. Claire's confidence grew as she turned slowly, clad only in white thong panties, displaying herself for these studs as she had for Simone in the office that very morning.

"Have a good look at what you'll be fucking tonight, fellas." Simone stood between Bobby and Marcus running her hands up and down the impressive bulges tenting their slacks. Claire wet her lips and teasingly slid a hand under the little triangle of fabric covering her vagina.

"Who wants to do the honors?" Her eyes roamed over the group, briefly meeting Gabe's before moving on.

Later,

she thought.

Make him wait

. She was taking her cues from Simone about how to wield her feminine power to get what she wanted, when she wanted it.

"J.D." she announced. He was on her him a moment, taking hold of the elastic top of her thong with both hands and yanking so hard that it broke like a cheap rubber band. The panties fluttered to the floor, leaving Claire completely naked.

"Check out this jewel box," J.D. muttered. He ran a blunt finger along the top of her slit. "You ready to get opened up wide, girl?" Claire leaned into him. The penis that stirred against her belly was a big one. She glanced down to see the dark bulbous glans push up past the top of his low-cut jeans and then poke completely out of them, and she realized with a start that he was still only beginning to get hard. She looked around questioningly at his teammates. A couple nodded at her with knowing amusement.

Dear God

, she wondered,

Are they all like him?

A few seconds later, she had her answer. Bobby pulled her away from J.D., kissing her hard. He pushed a leg between hers while undoing his trousers and shoving them halfway down his thighs. She groped and found his iron-hard cock. She couldn't close her hand around it. The rest of the Demons stripped down in no time and, sure enough, their cocks were enormous and all at least as thick as Bobby's.

Claire dropped to her knees before Bobby and J.D. She took turns attending to their stiffening cocks, drawing her tongue along their lengths then kissing and licking their ball sacks. It was a challenge to slide her lips over either of their cock-heads; Bobby's was the smaller of the two and it was like trying to stuff a whole ripe plum into her mouth.