"Have a good week, Beth."
As I walked through the office on my way to the elevator, I heard that over and over. My colleagues wished me well for the Wednesday to Friday training session I was leading in our Austin sales center. That's what they were thinking about.
"Hope your flight's on time, Phipps."
Yes, they had the normal concerns appropriate for a common business trip, but I was thinking about sex.
You wouldn't think my visit to Austin had anything to do with sex, but it did. The outward purpose was related to my job as a sales support manager for our company's product line. The new office management software products had been installed in Austin and I was going to retrain the team. But I made sure the training ended on a Friday so I could stay the weekend by myself.
Why by myself? So I could try out my plan to revolutionize my life.
I was twenty-eight, rather attractive in a Mediterranean way. I did well in college, had friends, and lots of men tried to date me. But my needs were not being met. Not at all.
What I wanted from men was not the formula evening followed by a roll in the sheets. I wanted something much more energetic and explosively fulfilling. I wanted it to last and last until every ounce of erotic potential was wrung out of me.
I gave up on finding that in Chicago, where I was based, but was pretty sure I could find it in Austin. As I left for my trip, I already had the date set up for Saturday evening. I was prepared to go all night if necessary, until I was satisfied. That's the deal I made through an adult classified ad service on the Internet.
I wrote and deleted my personal ad about twenty times before I hit the Post button. I was confused at first, not sure what to ask for, not really certain I could go through with it. But when I finally committed myself to the process, I got a small flood of replies from seemingly sincere people, asking their own questions and making good suggestions.
After sifting through all the messages and photos, I picked Hammer and Roxy, a man and wife couple. Of course the names were fake - I called myself Gwendolyn - but they promised they would rock my world.
They provided a cleverly seductive photo. Hammer was dressed as a Viking warrior with almost nude Roxy clinging to his leg like a slave wench. And in the background of the photo? Various leather restraints hung on wall pegs while a low table was littered with sex toys.
What sold me was Hammer's message.
"Gwendolyn, get here as fast as you can. We're going to violate you in every hole until you scream. You'll beg for more and I'll make sure you get it."
Bingo! He knew the mood I was in.
~~~~~~
The two and one-half hour non-stop flight to Austin was uneventful. I used the time to read some hot romance ebooks on my Kindle. I was storing up that heat for my Saturday night rendezvous.
The business part of my trip went as expected. I had been to Austin before and knew all the people. After a coordination meeting during breakfast on Wednesday, I got into the training. Each day we worked through lunch and had a group dinner after six. When I got back to my hotel, I didn't have much energy left.
But whatever I was doing, whether standing in front of the group in training or lying alone in my hotel bed before sleep, a part of me was keeping warm by thinking about Saturday night.
"I wonder what Hammer was visualizing when he promised to make me scream?" I wondered as I squirmed in bed.
~~~~~~
After work on Friday night, I changed hotels, moving to another part of town. I didn't want any connection between my job and what I had planned for my entertainment. Everyone in the Austin office thought I went straight back to Chicago.
The arrangement I had with Hammer and Roxy was to meet them at a club called The Pit, on Austin's East Side.
The meeting was still more than a day away. I was boiling over with excited anticipation, with visions of Hammer and Roxy and what they were going to do with me. I couldn't wait. Driven by my growing horniness, I decided a little warm-up wouldn't be a bad idea.
That was easy to arrange. Around eight-thirty I went down to the hotel's bar for a drink. Sitting alone at first, I was soon joined by Stefan, a businessman who was stranded in Austin for the weekend. He was nice enough for my purposes.
We talked, drank, danced, drank, and eventually went to his room. Once there, barely inside, I surprised him by dropping to my knees to give him a wild blow job, just to get things started. He reacted well but I stopped before he came, wanting to preserve him for my own pleasure.
On the bed, I stripped my clothes off while helping him get out of his.
"Stefan," I purred as I got on hands and knees, turning my back side to him. "Give me a good pounding."
He had no argument with that suggestion. I moaned as he slipped into my amply wet pussy and gasped with every stroke that he slammed into me.
When I got tired of being fucked on my knees, we switched so I could ride him as a cowgirl.
I had my arms up, both hands on top of my head, bouncing and breathing rapidly, noisily. He kept his eyes on my wildly jiggling breasts. When I could see he was going to come, I got off and lay on my back with my mouth open, pushing my tits together and tweaking my nipples.
"Come on me now; I want your cum," I told him. I stuck out my tongue.
With a big groan, he let go an ample shot, painting cum lines across my boobs and face with some going right in my mouth.
I sucked the last drops out of his cock, smeared around his cum then licked off my hands.
"Yum! Thank you so much," I told him teasingly, as he collapsed on the bed.
After we snuggled for a few minutes, I asked, "Again?" I expected a negative reply, but I was wrong.
He stayed on his back as I licked his cock hard. With vigorous hand and mouth motions I got him off again in only a few minutes. I kept it in my mouth, sitting back as I made swishing sounds with his load. Finally, I swallowed it all.
He seemed really pleased with me and with his own performance. He worked overtime to return the favor, licking me into a solid orgasm.
My hours with Stefan were quite enjoyable, a pleasurable prelude to the wild circus of excess I expected the next night. On my way back to my own room, I was smiling broadly, warmed by memories and anticipation.
~~~~~~
Saturday went by very slowly as I waited for the evening to arrive. I had so much emotion invested, I grew anxious. Maybe nothing could measure up? Maybe I couldn't do it? I wrestled with such questions until gradually those doubts ebbed, overtaken by my newly energized deep desire for slutty sex.
I would have started right away if I could have, but I had no influence over the schedule. I kept myself busy preparing my outfit, redoing my nails and hair, shaving and re-shaving.
When at last the hour arrived, I took a taxi to the club, timed to get there at ten p.m. When I got out of the cab, all I could see was a line of young people, dressed to impress, in front of a black facade. A small neon sign said "The Pit" in dripping red. Music was blasting through an open door, but a black panel just inside made it impossible to see anything.
Walking up the short flight of stairs, I attracted a lot of hoots and whistles, attention for my outfit. The black backless, sleeveless mini-dress had only two vertical sashes above the waist, rising to cover my breasts and tie behind my neck, leaving a deep V plunge in the center. Lots of skin and boob curves were on display. The hemline of the tight skirt was far up my thighs, closer to my crotch than my knees. My heels were stripper tall.
My shoulder length hair hung softly loose and I wore no makeup or jewelry. I only carried a tiny purse.
The part I was hoping to play dictated the look, or so I thought. I didn't really know much about what was going to happen, but I was more than ready to jump in.
A large man in black pants and matching skin-tight turtleneck guarded the velvet rope in a spotlighted area at the head of the line of wannabes agitating to get in. I had been instructed to tell the gatekeeper that "Hammer sent me." Supposedly I'd have no problem.
I walked straight to him, ignoring the line. Someone booed.
"Hammer sent me," I announced when I stood in front of the huge guy.
"That'll be a hundred bucks," he murmured, while inspecting my cleavage.
"What do you mean?" I asked him.
"Cost you a hundred to get in. Didn't he tell you?"
"No, nothing like that. Is Hammer here?"
"Cost you a hundred to find out."
I was starting to feel nervous about the situation, but against my own better judgment I took a wad of folded bills out of my purse and counted five twenties into the gatekeeper's hand. The bills disappeared in a flash. As he opened the velvet rope for me, he slipped a Queen of Hearts into my hand.
"Hold the card so it's visible. Hammer will find you," he advised.
I walked into the dim interior.
The crowd surged up and down in time with the deep-toned music managed by an elevated DJ. Laser lights flashed and slashed the gloom. But that wasn't what got my attention. In four alcoves around the walls of the room, spotlights illuminated nude women secured to the wall, dungeon style. Each was different; standing, sitting, hands behind back or held wide by shackles. They were mixed type, color, and age but all moved with the music, as best they could with their restraints. Judging from body language and expressions, the victims were ecstatic from the treatment.
My own reaction was a rush of heat as I realized I could be there soon. That thought was reinforced as one woman was removed from the wall and immediately replaced. The one taken down was cast onto a mattress where a knot of men were waiting to openly have sex with her. She seemed very happily eager to get started.
The replacement, the woman newly attached to the wall, began her ordeal. Men walked up and jerked off on her, wherever they wanted. Black painted cubes were used as steps by men who wanted to reach her mouth or higher.
I could barely stand there, I was so turned on by the scene. When would I get my chance?
"Gwendolyn? Is that you? I'm Hammer," a man said, using the pseudonyms from our emails.
He was short and bald, older than I imagined and very unlike the photo he sent. His Superman costume just added to the ridiculousness of his persona.
He held his arms wide and embraced me. His hands roamed my body, cupping my buns and breasts.
I broke the hold, feeling far less enthusiastic than Hammer seemed to be.
"Yes, Hammer, it's Gwendolyn. Is Roxy here?"
"Oh, yes she is. But plenty of time for her after we do some business."
"What? What are you talking about?" I stared at him.
"Three hundred for Roxy and me to split plus expenses. We had to spend a lot to be here to take care of you, y'know?"
Now I understood. The whole arrangement was designed to lure me to The Pit where they would slowly extract from me as much cash as possible. And I was so horny that I could have fallen for it if Hammer didn't look so crazy in that dumb costume.
In a few seconds I went from steaming aroused to steaming angry.
