This story is the result of a joint effort by two authors, 'mannydcamp' and 'traceekies' (trace_ekies on literotica.com). Although both authors have a number of other stories published on this site, Downhill Racer was submitted to literotica.com by mannydcamp and to eroticstories.com by traceekies. If you like Downhill Racer you will probably like 'Sunrise at Sea', written by the same authors and featuring the same characters.
For those readers who have the patience to weather a long teasing buildup, you should not be disappointed by Downhill Racer. On the other hand, if you expect graphically portrayed sexual intercourse in the first few pages you might want to read something else.
This story is about a husband who relishes the thought of watching his wife in the throes of passion with another man, a wife who delights in satisfying her husband's wishes and a male friend who believes that interest in a friend's wife does not diminish his friendship for either of them. If you find the views of these people to be unsettling, you are not likely to enjoy this story.
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"Our flying time today to Newark will be four hours and twenty-two minutes..." The 738 was still on its climb-out from McCarren International Airport in Las Vegas. Trace listened as the plane's first officer gave the obligatory announcements. It had been a year since he had seen Jackie at a conference in Orlando. In four and a half hours he would see her again, and her husband, Manny, who he had only met at their wedding. Trace remembered hiring Jackie.
A few days before, my secretary had handed me a resume to look at. I had taken a quick glance at it and guessed from the lack of job experience that Jacqueline Smith had probably just graduated from college. I needed another person in the department but I wasn't all that anxious to train someone. I was hoping to find someone with a little experience. I tucked the resume in my briefcase and quickly forgot it.
I had been to visit a company in Princeton, a couple hours from the office. Returning in the late afternoon, I had decided to head home instead of returning to work. I consulted a map to determine the shortest route. One of the towns I had to go through rang some bells. Then I remembered the resume in my briefcase and that the applicant lived in that town. I was already stopped for gas, so I took a look at the resume. Jacqueline Smith seemed to have the right credentials, even if she lacked experience.
I noticed her list of awards in gymnastics. Of course there was no picture and no physical description with her resume, but I still imagined that with her achievements in gymnastics, she was probably shaped alright, not that that had anything to do with the job, but it certainly had a lot to do with dinner. My wife had other plans for that night and I was going to have to fend for myself. I wondered if Jacqueline Smith would agree to being interviewed over dinner.
On my cellphone I dialed the number she had put on her resume. She answered promptly. Yes, she was still looking for a position. She seemed excited that I had called. Her voice was pleasant enough, a little on the husky side, almost sexy. I told her that I was coming through her town and asked if I could interview her over dinner. I quickly told her that she could bring her husband as well. She told me that she was single, but being a weeknight she had no plans. Plus, being interviewed in her home town would save her a forty-five minute trip to our office. We agreed to meet at a restaurant she recommended.
I got there about five-thirty. The
maรฎtre de told me that he had already seated Ms. Smith and took me to the table. As we introduced ourselves, I noticed a cigarette smoldering in the ash tray. She said, "I hope you don't mind. I smoke and from force of habit I requested a table in the smoking section." She looked at me fearfully, like she believed that she had already blown the interview.
She had stood up as I approached the table. She did indeed have a gymnast's figure. She was probably only five-four and couldn't have weighed much over a hundred pounds. Her body was tight, very little fat, likely all muscle. She wasn't going to win any beauty contests but she was cute. Her face was small, narrow and lean actually, and her light brown hair was cut short. She was wearing a snug fitting dress that came down to her knees and buttoned all the way up to her neck. Except for the dress being black, she looked like a pixie. I put my pack of cigarettes on the table and thanked her for choosing the smoking section.
She sat down with a considerable amount of relief. No, the smoking was not a deal killer and she knew from my attentiveness that she had made a good first impression. I told her about our business, investing in relatively small companies with a lot of potential. I made it clear that she would be expected to evaluate them both from a financial standpoint and a personal one. We discussed her schooling. I was right that she had no previous experience. I was going to have to teach her but I was beginning to think that I might enjoy that. She seemed eager to learn and convinced me that this was the job she wanted.
Dinner remained very professional, although I couldn't help but think of her in other ways. We talked a long time, much longer than if it had been the normal interview in the office. The restaurant began to fill up as other diners came in at the more usual times. Eventually I realized that our dinner had gone much longer than it should have. I assured her that she would be getting an offer letter from us and hoped that she would accept it. By the time we parted company at the restaurant door, it was close to eight. From the way she shook my hand I could tell that I would be seeing her again at the office.
Trace's daydreaming was interrupted by a flight attendant wanting his drink order. It was still morning for Trace and he asked for orange juice and coffee. As the flight attendant set the drinks down in front of Trace, he looked up at her. Her hair was brown and she wore it in a pixie cut. Even though the rest of her was not like Jackie at all, the hair alone was enough to trigger Trace's remembrances of Jackie at the office.
Trace was Jackie's mentor in more ways then one. He was 10 years her senior and had hired her as a smart good-looking kid out of college. Trace headed up a department for a major investment firm and Jackie was one of a team of young people that worked for him. Jackie was always his favorite, even back then. She was smart, hardworking and although Trace was a happily married man he would enjoy thinking about Jackie's young body.