On being elevated to the position of personal assistant to the CEO, I was well aware that my looks and manner were as big a factor in my selection as my other skills. I'd only returned to the workforce about six years earlier, having honed my computer skills and administrative knowledge during my time as a mother and homemaker, keen to resume the career which I'd voluntarily postponed in favour of motherhood.
By virtue of little things like having a nose job, collagen injections in my lips and my matronly bosom surgically restored, as well as kilometres of running, I looked pretty good for forty-plus years. I wasn't at all averse to using my femininity to advance my career, although I'd have drawn a line at screwing for promotion, if I'd been asked. Fortunately, I never was.
On my very first interstate trip with my boss I was propositioned several times by a rather guileless executive named Roger Hulme. Although I liked a laugh, he had a good sense of humour and I found him attractive, my convent instilled moral attitudes and innate reserve kept me faithful to Ned for the first few trips away.
One night a group of us went out to a night club where, in addition to the cabaret act, there was a sex act as well. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw what was going on, a normal looking woman I'd seen earlier was in some kind of studio dressed in an erotic costume and doing a striptease while an intimate camera conveyed her every move to us via a large video screen. She was quite uninhibited and, after showing us it all in her dance, she sucked off a nude man before shagging him with apparent enjoyment. I was surprised at how quickly the guy recovered and was ready to fuck again, but there was a trick, I discovered later. I was fascinated at their efforts, cringing at the thought of my own body being scrutinized in that manner, but feeling an increasing randiness as I watched them shagging so enthusiastically. Their sex was more a show than two people fucking for pleasure, getting into very difficult positions to give us a better view of his thick prick sliding in and out of her hairless snatch. This continued until four couples alone and then a hot foursome had done their thing.
We were all from different firms, but there seemed to be a fair degree of familiarity among the group with several of the guys daring some women to a session in the studio with them. There were a lot of blushing refusals with one woman saying that none of the guys would be able to keep it up if there was an audience, so she wasn't going to risk embarrassment by trying to get a limp dick up, and failing.
I was aghast; naively thinking that their objections were morally based, not due to a potential lack of performance from a casual partner. Although I was aware that there was some sexual misconduct among my peers during the course of a trip, I really didn't think it was that blatant.
"I'd never let you down like that, Marcie," grinned the guy. "I've taken medication to be sure. Now I've got a horn on that a mad dog couldn't chew through in a week."
"Let me see," she frowned and Denis moved to sit next to her and open his flies. "Well it's definitely harder than I remember Terri telling me."
"So?"
"So, I'll do a foursome," she told the table, about a dozen of us.
The others, including me, hmm-ed and hah-ed and seemed more than a little self-conscious at the prospect of being asked directly to participate in an adulterous sexual display so publically. Roger looked at me with an eyebrow raised in query as I glanced back through slitted lids to register absolute refusal combined with contempt. He got the message and offered his body to the blushing Alison who eventually caved in to great pressure and agreed to partner Bryce with Marcie and Denis.
Ten minutes later Ali and Marcie appeared on screen dressed in thigh-high boots with impossibly tall heels and skimpy, sequined bikini costumes while they danced to muffled music. They looked coy as they unfastened the others' garb, prancing about with their big, silicone filled breasts bobbing up and down in time to the beat.
The guys then appeared wearing loincloths which their rock hard erections held up above the horizontal.
"Jeez, Bryce's nicely hung," breathed Helen in wonder. "I'll have to be a lot nicer to him in future."
"Yeah," agreed Manda. "Gena says he knows what he's doing in bed too. I'm looking forward to trying him out."
I asked Helen about sex within the group as it seemed to be a fairly easy matter between them. The rules were, she told me, that anybody could ask to have sex with anyone in the group without it being seen as demeaning to the member asked. There were about thirty people of our age and position cohort who came together in different mixes on these trips. That particular group hadn't been together before, except for Ali, Marcie and Roger, so there had been no sexual contact, although the gossip informed everyone as to who had done what with whom, their pluses and minuses in relation to sex.
The women on screen sucked off the men, then changed partners to get them fully erect again, straddling their supine bodies to achieve penetration in squatting position. They continually swapped partners until they all came pretty well simultaneously and the screen faded to black, leaving me wanting to stick my hand down my knickers and play with myself.
When the fornicating foursome returned to our table, in their street gear, they were still blushing, but clearly pleased with themselves at having had an experience that very few other women would have attempted.
"Are you the first to do that, out of our mob I mean," Helen asked of Ali and Marcie.
"No," Denis informed her. "Rose Pelligrine and Penne Dawe have definitely done it, with Baz and Paul, but I also heard that Darla Shea and Corine Day have put on a show with two guys I don't know."
"Yeah," agreed Ali. "That's true, it happened, I'm reliably informed."
Nobody else was up to it that night and so we all took taxis back to our various hotels where I got out at the same level as Rod Tranter from across the country which made me feel much safer in accepting his offer of a night cap in his suite.
"So what did you think about Marcie and Ali's performance?" he asked me.
"Very daring," I replied.
"Does that mean we could see you giving it a try in the future?"
"Not really," I blushed. "I have a very low threshold of embarrassment. I could no sooner have sex in public than fly unaided to the moon."
"How are you at sex in private then?" he grinned amiably.
"I understand what you're asking, but I should tell you I've led a wholly blameless life and have never cheated on Ned."
"So he keeps you completely satisfied?"
"No, not really," I mumbled, flushing deeply. "I don't get enough love or sex."
"There's a difference?"
"Of course. Sometimes I just need a quick nooky, even a bit rough on the odd occasion. Others I like to be wooed slowly with real love. Ned's pretty good at that, but not with the more recreational stuff."
"You talked about swinging?"
"He's mentioned it, but I just couldn't come at that."
"And you've never considered casual sex or an affair."
"Oh, I've thought about both, but I've seen the disastrous results of an ongoing affair. On the other hand, just having casual sex seems so slutty."
"Have you never fantasized over being really slutty. Every other woman I've asked has admitted to enjoying the thought, some going on to realize their fantasies, like tonight. Those two didn't just make up their mind to try it tonight; they first went there nearly a year ago and it was Ali who suggested that we go there tonight."
"So, how many of those girls have you had it off with?"
"Only Marcie, Ali, Helen and June. It's expected now; there was a time in recent past when the blokes went out to drink and the women did whatever it was women do away from home. Suddenly they decided that it was all too boring, we blokes were boring, indicating that normally untoward suggestions would be considered in a more tolerant light by them in future. With others, I've asked a lady who appealed to me whether she'd care to join me in a nightcap in my room. She agreed and we spent most of the night together, the rule is that they don't stay all night."
"Have you done the closed circuit TV thing?"
He nodded. "With Tori Donaldson...at her instigation. She made me take an aphrodisiac of some sort, viagra or something. I was horny for hours afterwards."
I giggled.
"Fortunately I was invited in by Sally Seaward and Melissa Doyle, after I got back to the hotel, and we were at it 'til the early hours. They kept on about that old "sex pills" joke and I was at considerably less than my best during the next day. Mind you, I'd be persuaded to try it again. I took my wife away for a weekend recently and, despite being completely shagged for the entire following week, gave her a fierce time by dropping only a couple of pills."
"Does she know you play up away from home?"
"Yeah. After our dirty weekend she cried and apologized for being naughty with a couple of other blokes while I was away. I also confessed to my sins in the area of sex and we had a great chuckle, reaffirmed our love for each other and got drunk."
"So did you promise to be faithful from now on?" I enquired.
"Au contraire," he smiled. "We realized that knowing the other was having sex elsewhere hadn't made either of us jealous and gave carte blanche for a casual nookie as the opportunity arose. I do want to share a swing with her as a matter of priority; I'm dying to see her at it with another guy."
"Yeah," I told him quietly. "Ned's sort of suggested that he'd like me to do that while he watched. It must be a blokey thing; I don't have any great desire to watch him shagging another woman."
"I guess," he grinned. "But Sal and Mel were fascinated at my dick moving in and out of the other's pussy, up close too."
"Ooh, you mean gynaecologically close?" I gasped. "I can't really imagine that being a particularly pretty sight."
"It is to blokes," he grinned. "A woman who lets a guy look at her snatch is hungry for something to fill it, in my experience."
"That sort of woman would," I said without thinking about it. "I've never displayed myself like that."
"Not even to Ned?"
"Especially to Ned, it's just too tarty. It shows a lack of self-respect. I can't believe a guy feels anything positive about any woman who does that sort of thing, or vice versa."
"Well, I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he chuckled.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
