Warnings: This story contains group sex, a little bondage, and a little lesbian sex, as well as oblique references to incest.
Note: This could also have been placed in Group Sex. But since the first 4 chapters are in E&V, I have included this one in E&V, too.
Thank you for your comments. It was your comments that made me decide to write one more chapter.
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Chris and I discussed our time at the home of Rajeev and Krishna quite a bit after it was over and we were home. We would relive it blow by blow in our minds. Of course I forgave Chris for secretly showing videos of my extreme sexual indiscretions to a third party (in this case Rajeev) but I made him swear on a bible he would never do that again with anyone else.
In the meantime, a week later, Rajeev sent over the videos of our wild sexual escapades that memorable night at their home. This led to some wild sex on our part. I was really enjoying my life with Chris.
My times at my new job were working out well, too. As I have said, modesty aside, I am about as good a legal secretary as one can find in New York, and my bosses were pleased with my work.
The problems began when rumors of my sexual promiscuity from my previous job reached my new job. Some evil and jealous former secretary had let it slip to a friend at my firm, and she had cleverly let the firm's primary sexual predator know about my past. His name was Mikhail, but everyone called him Mike. He began to come to me with work to do: memos to type, dictation to take, etc.
He was not one of my bosses, and technically he could not ask me to do work. But I did not know he was a sexual predator, and I still wanted to make a good impression, so of course I complied and did all the work he asked of me. I did it well, and quickly.
One Friday just before quitting he came with some dictation and said he needed it typed up urgently. I stayed late and did it. It took me a half hour. I walked it over to his office when I was done, planning to leave it on his desk for him to get Monday, or over the weekend if he decided to come in. We were not allowed to send documents by email.
He was still in his office, however, and he seemed pleased I had done this for him. He thanked me and said the only proper way to thank me was to take me to dinner. I thanked him but declined, explaining I had to get home to my 'partner.' That is the term for a husband when one is not married.
Mike was insistent, however, and we compromised on having a cocktail together. I thought Mike was quite handsome. He was tall and strong, and he gave off an air of masculine confidence. He even smelled of a great aftershave. He dressed well too, and he looked dashing in his fancy Italian suit, his soft blue shirt, and his striped tie, expertly knotted. Even his cuff-links were tasteful.
He took me to a very fancy bar in midtown and the cocktail was wonderful, and he was fairly charming with his conversation. I excused myself when he offered to buy me a second cocktail, and I descended into the subway and went home to Chris.
Mike was smooth, but I could tell he was interested in me, and I was both flattered and aroused by the thought that he wanted me. Chris was the immediate beneficiary of this, as I attacked him lustily soon after I got home.
Mike repeated this behavior each Friday, always giving me something urgent to do right before quitting time, and then taking me out for drinks afterwards. By the third time, I was letting him buy me two cocktails, and by the fourth time I had three cocktails, and I became good and drunk.
When I came home drunk with the smell of booze on my breath, I explained to Chris what was going on. Chris told me what he thought was going on: Mike was playing the long game to get me into bed. I of course had realized this on some level, but Chris stating it explicitly made me fully realize it.
Chris was excited; he loves seeing me get laid by other men, and he wanted to video it secretly. But I said no. I had already lost one job by "fraternizing" with two lawyers, and I did not want to lose this one, too. I really liked this job. Plus, I was disgusted with myself for having behaved like such a slut both just before I met Chris, then later in Key West, and then at the home of Rajeev and Krishna.
The next Friday, when Mike pulled the same stunt, I spoke to him after my second cocktail. I told him that I liked him a lot, and found him sexy, but that sex was off the table. "We work together, Mike. Not only is it a bad idea, but also I could lose my job. I love this job, and I do not want to risk it via an affair, no matter how attracted I am to you."
Mike took it well, and for the first time I let him give me a kiss goodnight just before I once again descended into the subway. He kissed me wonderfully: He was gentle and loving, and yet erotic in a rough sort of way. It all sounds contradictory but I swear it was like that.
I thought it was over and that I had handled it well. The next two Fridays we went out for a drink as had now become our routine, and we kissed goodnight each time. Evey kiss was wonderful and got me aroused.
The second time however, as we kissed goodnight, Mike put his hands on my ass and pulled me into him and he pushed his erection into my stomach. We stood at the bar's door kissing like that for a good five minutes. I wondered what the other bar patrons thought.
Mike said, "Come here, sweet Jeanie," and he pulled me over to a dark corner of the bar. We sat down, and he ordered us both another cocktail, and then a fourth, and then a fifth, and I was plastered. He kissed me while we were sitting there in the bar, and he stuck his hand under my skirt.
I felt fairly well protected, since I had on panties of course, but also pantyhose. I was not worried, and probably because I was horny, attracted to him, and thoroughly drunk, I let his hand remain under my skirt.
My first mistake was to let him lead me to a dark corner table in the bar. My second mistake was to let him get me drunk. My third mistake was to make out with him in public in the bar. But my fourth and biggest mistake was not to remove his hand from my left leg under my skirt.
As we kissed some more, and I loved every kiss, he suddenly added his other hand, and they both rose to my waist and ripped down my pantyhose and my panties in one sudden move. I heard my pantyhose tear. I became alarmed. I broke the kiss and said, "What the hell do you think you are doing, Mark?"
"Kiss me, babe," he said, and he began kissing me again, and my outrage and resistance melted away. My inner slut, which emerges when I am drunk, had come out to play.
With my privates now accessible, he began to finger me, right there in the bar. I relaxed a bit, and as he kissed me and fingered me I began to moan ever so softly. I was aroused. I was indeed seriously aroused, and Mike not only knew it, he was counting on it.
"Oh my God," I said, "Look at the time. Chris will be worried. I have to go."
Mike said, "Just text him that you have to work late." I took out my phone but did not text Chris that I had to work late. Instead I texted the address of the bar to Chris. He knew what this meant. He knew I had succumbed and that I was letting him know where I was, so that he could do his thing.
We sat there and kissed and Mike fingered me for another 20 minutes or so, giving Chris enough time to get there. When I finally saw Chris enter, I was already breathing heavily and was not putty in Mike's hands.
I said to Mike, "You are driving me crazy Mike. We have to stop. We work together, and I do not want to get fired." To my alarm, I noticed my speech was a little slurred as I spoke.
Mike said it would be our secret, and he knew a discrete and fancy hotel a few doors down the street, where I could rest and recover before heading home to my lover.
"I'll bet you do," I silently thought to myself. I left the bar with that sexy womanizer. I was so drunk that I was unsteady in my high heels. When I made no protest to being mauled in public on the sidewalk, I guess he knew that he had me. And if he did conclude that, well he was right.
He pushed his luck and unbuttoned my blouse as we walked and stuck his hand under it and fondled my breasts over my lacy bra. His other hand was on my ass, and he stuck it up under my skirt as we walked, pushing my skirt up and revealing my torn pantyhose covering my ass. He even slipped his hand through the tear in my hose that he himself had made, caressing my panty-covered ass. Anyone walking behind us could see.
"You're embarrassing me," I managed to say even without slurring my words. "This is a public sidewalk." There were literally dozens of people walking all around us, and a few were staring. Mike ignored my remarks.
I was too drunk to protest further, or to stop him. I was just trying to remain upright. I felt like a total exhibitionist slut letting Mike expose me like that on a public sidewalk in midtown New York. I was not showing skin, but I was showing a man taking liberties in public.
Chris was following us. He saw Mike's behavior, and my acquiescence. I knew, because I took out my compact with the excuse of checking my lipstick, and saw Chris behind us in its mirror. He was smiling. I was relieved he was there. My protector, even if I knew he would do nothing to protect me. He would do nothing at all.
Mark was greeted by his first name at the hotel desk, which spoke volumes about how often he seduced women and brought them to this very hotel. Like the women before me, I suppose, at that moment I was too drunk to care.
The hotel clerk could see my blouse was seriously unbuttoned and doubtless could see quite a bit of my lacy bra. It was no mystery as to what was going on. We each got a key card, and I slipped mine to Chris as we walked to the elevators.
To give Chris a head start, I suggested to Mike that we have a drink at the hotel bar before going up to the room. Mike wanted me to be as drunk as is possible, so he quickly agreed, and we went to the bar. I was so drunk however I was worried about getting sick to my stomach, so I pretended I did not like the drink when it came. I kissed Mike and told him I needed to lie down; I was just too drunk.
Mike took me to the hotel room with alacrity. He lay me down on the bed and we kissed. He pulled off my torn pantyhose and my panties, pushed up my skirt, and fingered me expertly. When I was close to an orgasm, he stopped and undressed me completely. He then took a picture of me lying there naked with my legs spread. I went ballistic.
