Door-to-Door Sales

I had a job selling door-to-door one summer in college. I won't say it was frequent, but it was definitely not uncommon—at least once a week--for a woman to answer the door wearing next to nothing.

One I remember with clarity was a really good-looking brunette probably in her early- or mid-30s. She flung the door wide open, unusual it itself for any stranger, and there she stood in nothing but a man's old-fashioned undershirt, the kind made of rib knit cotton, with big arm holes.

Having a dark complexion and big, pendulous tits with wide, dark areolas, she might as well have been naked in that thin thing. I could see her brown bush easily through it, and when she sat down, it hiked up to show most of her nice ass and pubes.

The big diamond ring on her finger shouted she was married, but she was home alone, as she must have said half a dozen times. No, she was not trying to freak me out; this woman, patting my leg and brushing those yabbahoes against my arm, was on the make. Though she was not yet showing, she said she was pregnant with her first child, and that there was, therefore, "nothing to worry about."

She no doubt wanted to fuck me right then and there--and that would have been great--but I was there make money. So, I remained professional but did unabashedly flirt to take advantage of her horniness and make the sale. She placed a huge order. Then, the phone rang, and it sounded like it might be hubby, so I took the stack of signed order forms and politely excused myself for the next house.

No one came to that door, but while on the porch, I rifled through the forms and calculated that I'd made a bit over a $1000 on Mrs. Undershirt. Wow!

After her stuff was shipped about a week later, I phoned to follow up and make sure everything was OK. It was, and, though she had the catalogue, she wanted me to come by with some samples. Samples! Indeed!

I stopped by, and, like before, she answered the door in the white see-through undershirt, wasting not a moment in making suggestive comments. This time I "accidentally" jostled a boob when taking the form from her, to which her response was a giggling, "Oooooh, that felt good."

She turned around and bent over to get the pen she dropped, positioning her bare pussy a foot from my nose, lingering long enough for me to actually smell it. Once again, I got a large order from her.

Excusing herself to "tinkle," I took that opportunity to gather my things and position myself at the front door so that I could say thanks and leave without being hemmed in. When she returned, she was completely nude, smiling sexily and boobs a swaying.

I lied that I was late for an appointment and unfortunately had to go right away. She said she'd look forward to seeing me again the following week, when we would "really get down to business," and lingered at the front door twiddling her nipples until I was out of sight. I was actually going next door, but skipped over to the next block in keeping with my story.

I know you're thinking why I just didn't boink that booby beauty, but I was simply doing what female salespersons typically do to men. They only seem like they MIGHT fuck as a way to make the sale. As long as the man appears more interested in sex than she, she has the leverage. Fuck him, and she loses all leverage. Reverse the genders, and that's exactly what I was doing.

Sure I was horny for that woman, but I did not lose sight of what my real goal was--making money. Further, I was helped by the luck of having an especially "wet" summer with three of the local townie girls.

It would be August on my next sales call to Mrs. Undershirt, and with a month of summer left, I certainly wanted to make more big commissions off her. On my next visit, I figured she'd immediately jump my bones, and I'd either have to fuck her or cause a scene resisting--either of which would probably spell the end of sales to her. So, what to do?

I was the top new salesperson, and the manager asked me to take along another new salesperson to help her learn. What better customer to coach her on than my best--Mrs. Undershirt?

It worked perfectly. Mrs. U was forward, but not so bold as to make a move on me with the young salesgirl present. Even so, Mrs. U wore nothing but the undershirt, though she did keep it pulled down, and continued to make the occasional double entendre. I made another big sale, the largest yet, promising to return again soon.

The new salesgirl actually learned a lot: She was cute, and would use her sexiness to sell to MEN. Our company had reams of marketing research, so it would be an easy enough matter to call on single/divorced males or visit married men when their wives were not home. That's exactly what she did, and the next week, her sales soared.

Well, our sales manager was extremely happy and pulled me off the job for a day to go to corporate to demo my sales technique. By this point, I had several appointments every day with repeat customers, and I did not want to forego sales by being away. My sales manager said he would personally call on those accounts in my absence, and, yes, Mrs. U. was one of those appointments. Well, he was a crack salesman who'd been promoted to manager because he had the 2nd highest sales record anyone had ever posted, so I said OK.

When I returned, first thing I did was check my daily sales, and I was stunned: His one-day sales for me looked like an entire week! I literally ran to his office to get the lowdown. Thumbing the thick stack of order forms, he said the gigantic number was attributable soley to a huge sale to none other than Mrs. Undershirt.

"She came to the door naked and hot to trot. I sold her a bunch of stuff, then made out with her. I sold her some more stuff, then played with her big titties. Sold her more, then ate her pussy. Stopped before she came, then sold really a lot before resuming oral duty until she came. Sold her still more, then she sucked me off, and I fucked her silly. Actually, she fucked me silly until I blew, but she bought more stuff. Took a break and then did a replay, she buying stuff at every base. Only she got out some hot oil and slathered it all over us, and begged me to butt-fuck her. I filled her ass with cream. She loved giving head, so I got an order for that high-dollar leather ottoman first, and then she sucked the final load out of me."

"Thanks for 'filling in,' boss. I've got an enormous commission check coming."

"Oh, no prob, man," he said said, "Thank YOU. You know me--I've been to bed with hundreds of chicks--but that one was the best piece of ass ever!"

Until he told me all that, I thought I'd managed her quite well. I guess that's why he was the sales manager!