Legal Tender

After her husband was caught tampering with evidence, Katie Hanson struck a secret deal with two of his law firm's top partners in order to let him keep his job.

Part 2

"Good evening, Ms. Hanson."

Inside, beyond the open door, the large room exuded luxury: leather upholstery, rich, dark mahogany walls, a marble fireplace, shelves full of crystal... the view beyond the sliding glass door sparkled with the lights of the city landscape seen from above. Everything here spoke of sophistication and wealth, but the muted lighting and deep wood tones gave the room a warm feeling, a cozy intimacy that made the expansiveness of the room seem smaller and less intimidating.

Mr. Chance gently took my arm and brought me over to the bar, where a tall, blond man stood, his eyes upon me as I approached. I had worn a soft, low cut cashmere top over high waisted pants that really emphasized my flat stomach and slim thighs. The pant legs flared over a pair of high topped leather boots. My hair was pinned at the top of my head, librarian style (I had thought of this last vestige of prim propriety at the last second, as it also had the effect of exposing my long, thin neck). I could tell the overall effect was favorable by Mr. Massey's continuous stare as I approached.

He put down his drink slowly, and addressed my escort. "She's every bit as beautiful as you described her, Kevin," he said. It was then I realized that not only had I never met Mr. Massey, I didn't even know either of their first names until this second. Somehow, this tiny realization made the madness of what I was about to do seem more powerful than it had at any point over the last crazy week—even when Dwight came rushing home to me overjoyed that, though demoted, he still had a job, and even when I received the email from Mr. Chance informing that his end of the deal had been satisfied, and my end was set to begin. And more powerful, even, than at any time this morning as I prepared myself for them. I had had little difficulty in convincing Dwight that I would be visiting my sister for the weekend, and knew there was almost no chance that he would double-check my story. He would be busy all weekend anyway, trying to do his best to handle a huge caseload in order to impress his employers—two of whom stood right in front of me.

"Thank you, Mr. Massey," I said, blushing, for lack of anything better to say. "May I have a drink, too?"

The two partners looked at each other, and Mr. Chance said, "We'll have your drink ready in a moment, Ms. Hanson. For now," he said, steering me toward a door across from the bar, "I've laid an outfit out for you on the bed in the next room. We'd like you to try it on for us."

I blushed again, realizing again that this was really happening. "Certainly," I said, doing my best to smile bravely and look worldly. Mr. Chance opened the door leading to another well furnished room, the centerpiece of which was a plush four-poster bed with one small box on it.

****

When I emerged, I felt their eyes upon me, staring. There was no pretense of anything else: no political correctness, no apologies, no glances aside. I don't even think they blinked.

I was wearing red silk babydoll lingerie, with matching panties. A bright red bow was placed at the gather below my breasts, and the stretch lace above gathered my breasts together, making them quite apparent through the plunging neckline. When I had dressed before the mirror in the room I noticed I could see the outline of my nipples, and the panties did little to hide anything else. In fact, there was hardly anything that served to cover me, though as I stood there in the doorway I saw that what effort it made seemed only to whet their appetites. Their eyes drank me in, and I found I loved it. Like I had discovered in the slutty Rocky Horror outfit I wore the night I met Dwight, it was unbelievably exciting to be stared at.

I moved forward, taking my time. I had taken my hair down, and I could feel it flow onto my shoulders as I walked. I looked directly in Mr. Chance's dark brown eyes, then moved my attention to Mr. Massey's blue eyes. However, I noticed that they weren't holding my gaze, but letting their eyes travel up and down the length of my body.

Mr. Chance broke the silence first. "Ms. Hanson, your drink," and he extended his hand. The glass was shaped like a brandy snifter, and the liquid within was a warm, brown color.

"Thank you."

"Ms. Hanson," he continued, "if you don't mind, Mr. Massey and I would like to get to know you a little better. Would you mind sitting on the couch," he indicated a plush brown leather couch in the center of the room, one which seemed to receive a good amount of light from lamps placed slightly in front of it on either side. It didn't take much imagination to realize that they had set the room up for this exact view of me.

"Not at all," I said, and slowly walked ahead of them to the couch. (I expected they had planned this, too, so I took my time.) While they walked to their chairs I took a long sip of my drink, and it immediately soothed my nerves, which until then I'd been trying awfully hard to disguise.

I noticed the room lights dimming a good deal, and then the gentlemen came over and sat in two leather arm chairs, facing me. They were both dressed formally in expensive suits, their jackets still on. I noticed the lamps did not illuminate their chairs, and in fact made it quite difficult for me to see them. I felt as if I were on stage, and the effect that had on me was thrilling. I took another sip of my drink, and felt the jitters slide away once again.

"Ms Hanson," Mr. Chance began, "Before we begin, we just want to make sure that you are comfortable here, and that nothing is happening within this room that is contrary to your wishes. Things can still be called off, if you should so desire it. We are not holding you against your will."

"I'm fine," I said, sipping my drink. It felt warm going down. I was finding that I actually enjoyed this, and didn't have the slightest desire to stop this. I enjoy their gaze upon me. Though I couldn't see their eyes, I knew there was little of me they couldn't see.

"That's good, Ms. Hanson." There was a pause. "Next, I want to tell you how ravishing you look."

"Indeed," said Mr. Massey. "Ms. Hanson, you're a stunning woman. Dwight is a very lucky man."

"Thank you," I said. "I consider myself lucky to have him, too."

"If you don't mind," Mr. Chance said, "may I ask you if Dwight is the only man you've ever been with?"

"Oh, dear, no," I said, giggling slightly. I was surprised at how easily this was all coming to me. I felt totally at ease under their gaze. "There were definitely others."

"That's fine, Ms. Hanson," he said, his voice low and soothing. "Who was the first man you were, shall we say, intimate with?"

I hadn't thought about it for so long, and the candor of my answer surprised me.

"Well, I should say that depends. I was made aware of them, I guess, long before I actually saw one close up."

"Interesting," he said, his voice seemingly coming out of the dim recesses of the room. "Would you mind telling us about them?"

"Well, the first penis I ever saw," the word seemed clinical in this environment, but it seemed like the right one to use at this time, "was my brother's I guess." A part of me couldn't believe I was saying this, but the words just continued to flow. "I was looking for something I thought he had taken from me, and I went through his drawers, and I found that beneath his bottom drawer he had a stash of photos. Polaroids. I reached in and took them out, and saw pretty quickly that they were of him and his girlfriend."

The two men seemed to shift a little, and then Mr. Chance's voice drifted through the air toward me.

"Can you describe the pictures, Ms. Hanson?"

"Oh, there were all kinds," I said, again wondering how I found this so easy to talk about now, when I had never mentioned this to a soul before, not even Dwight. "There were shots of her, naked—she was beautiful, and I was so jealous of her."

"Why?"

"Oh, her figure. She was slim and had beautiful breasts. Bigger than mine."

"I find it hard to believe that you, Ms. Hanson, could be jealous of another woman. Your breasts are absolutely gorgeous." Mr. Massey echoed this sentiment.

"Thank you both," I said. "But hers were huge."

"There are many men who like their women slimmer, you know, Ms. Hanson."

"Thank you again." I said.

"Were there photos of them, um, interacting?"

"Yes," I said, and for the first time I felt as if I might have been a little breathier when I spoke. I took another sip of my drink and felt better immediately. "There were several."

"Tell us about them, Ms. Hanson."

I thought back. "There were some of him touching her breasts, standing behind her, like he had set the camera on a timer. His hands were holding her breasts, cupping them." I began to feel warm as I spoke.

"That's nice. Tell me about the others."

"There were some of her, um, going down on him."

"That's fine, Ms. Hanson. Don't feel you have to couch your terms. We know the expressions, and we want you to feel free expressing them."

"Okay."

"Describe those pictures, if you would, Ms. Hanson."

I took a sip of my drink. "Um..." I started, searching for words. I took another sip.

"Take your time. But tell us what you saw. Completely."

I decided to plunge ahead. "They were pretty close up, and showed his, um, cock..."

"You're doing fine, Ms. Hanson."

"...Well, her mouth was about halfway down on his cock. Her cheeks were bulging."

"Did she look excited?"

"Yes," I said. "She looked as if she were enjoying herself."

"Were there other pictures depicting oral sex, Ms. Hanson?"

"There were several. Some, he was in her mouth, and some, he was out, and she was licking him."

"I imagine he was quite erect, wasn't he, Ms. Hanson?"

"Yes," I said, and took another small sip. "He was extremely hard."

"Was this the first penis you had ever seen, Ms. Hanson?"

"Yes."

"How did it make you feel?"

I thought for a moment. "I was very excited."

"Even though it was your brother's penis?"

"Maybe a little because it was Brian's penis."

"Very interesting, and thank you, Ms. Hanson," he said, his voice a little more raspy than before. "You're doing excellently. Describe his penis for us."

"I had nothing to compare it with at that point of my life, of course. But as I found out later, it really was pretty big. It wasn't smooth, like some I've seen later...it had a prominent vein running along the length on the upper side...um, the side toward his waist."

"You said it excited you."

"Very much."

"That's nice, Ms. Hanson. Were there other pictures?"

"There were some of the two of them...um..."

"Fucking?"

"Yes," I said, and sipped a little of my drink. I felt better now. "They were fucking."

"Describe the pictures, Ms. Hanson."

"They were mostly from the side, like he had a timer or a remote switch. He was on top for some of them, from the front or the back, but there were two with her on top."

"How clearly could you see what they were doing?"

"Very," I said. "Brian seemed to pose every picture so you could see his cock."

"Even when he was penetrating her?"

"Yes," I said. "In the ones where she was on top, she was leaning backward, and you could see her, um, pussy. It was spread, and his cock was inside her, in one almost all the way, and in the other, all but the tip was out." I couldn't believe I was talking in such a manner.

"Excellent, Ms. Hanson," he said. "This is excellent. How did these pictures make you feel?"

"Very excited, Mr. Chance. And Mr. Massey."

"Did you..." he paused for a moment, "...masturbate later?"

I didn't even hesitate to admit the embarrassing truth. "Yes," I said, my voice a bit breathy. "Yes, I did. Often."

"Ms. Hanson," he said, his voice low and steady. "Show us."

Funny, but I had no question about complying. I just wanted to know how.

"Should I take off my..."

"No, Ms. Hanson, leave your teddy on. "You may use you hands on the outside, or slip them in. But leave your lingerie on for now."

"Yes, Mr. Chance."

I let my right and left hands slide up to my breasts, cupping them from underneath. I let my forefingers trace my nipples...the feel of rubbing them through the lace made them especially sensitive. My nipples puff out when I'm excited, and I could feel them doing that right now.

"Describe why you liked seeing your brother's penis so much, Ms. Hanson."

"Mmm...," I said, my right hand slipping down across my abdomen toward my lap, "I guess, first of all, I'd never seen a penis before. Maybe on a statue, or in some art, but never a real person's. And certainly never hard. It was fascinating. It looked so strong. So intense. It looked like everything inside him was ready to burst."

"I'm sure it was, Ms. Hanson. What about it being your brother's excited you?"

I thought for a second. "I think I've always been fascinated by sexual things that are kind of, I don't know, dirty. You know, wrong. Like," I said, slipping my fingers down between my legs and looking directly across from me at the spot where I assumed Mr. Chance's eyes were, then Mr. Massey's, "well, like this..."

"This?"

"What we're doing right now."

"Does this appeal to you, Ms. Hanson?"

"Yes," I said, my voice suddenly low and husky. The forefinger of my right hand was making lazy circles between my legs, which I realized for the first time were spread scandalously open. "Yes, I find that it does."

"That's good, Ms. Hanson. We like this, too."

I felt myself slipping into, well, something like another form of reality, like a waking dream. I felt as if I were floating outside of myself, and that the person on the couch was just an manifestation of me, and that I could feel to express myself however I wished. I felt wonderful, as if on a small raft floating down a lazy river.

"Do you masturbate often, Ms. Hanson?"

"No," I said, then thought again. "Um...yes," I said. "I think I probably do. Maybe once or twice a week. Is that often?"

"It's perfect, Ms. Hanson," he said, his voice floating down the river with me. Since I couldn't see them clearly, I shut my eyes and concentrated on the sound of it. It seemed to free me even more.

I let my first and middle finger play over my clit, back and forth. My left hand squeezed my breasts, alternately. I could feel that this really exposed them to my audience, though somehow my nipples were still completely covered, what little good that did. "Am I doing this correctly for you?"

"Ms. Hanson," he said, "you're doing beautifully. This is wonderful."

"Thank you," I said, smiling.

"Ms. Hanson, tell us about the first time you actually saw a man's penis."

"Mmm..." I said, squirming a little in my seat. Knowing that their eyes were on me, watching my growing arousal, gave me the most amazing pleasure. I wondered how wet my panties were becoming.

"I was best friends with a boy about my age—Alan—who had already told me was gay. He and I were swimming at a pool his uncle owned... we had the pool to ourselves, and there was a tall privacy fence around us." I filled my left hand with my right breast, then slipped my hand inside the baby doll top and repeated the action, this time letting my fingertips play over the nipple. I had a distinct desire to push the top aside.

"Very nice, Ms. Hanson. You're extremely beautiful, and very enticing."

I smiled. "I find myself wanting to expose myself to you. I want to take off what little you have me wearing..."

"All in good time, Ms. Hanson. All in good time. Tell us about Alan."

I lay back, and let my fingers play upon me as I spoke. "Alan worked at a book store, and it was there he met a college professor who asked where the Gay and Lesbian Studies section was. They were lovers within the week, and at the pool it was all he talked about."

"Did Alan speak specifics?"

"I assume you mean of their love life," I said, and I slid the fingers of my right hand inside the top of my panties. I felt the small strip of hair, and traced it down until the moisture began. "And yes, Alan was very specific. He kept telling me how much fun he had, what a pleasure it was going gown on a man, what it felt like to have a man inside his mouth, how much he liked making him come...he went on and on..."

"You didn't discourage him."

"Not really, Mr. Chance," I said. My fingertip flicked over my clit, and it felt like I had touched an electric circuit. "Alan was my guide, in a way. He told me what men were like, what they wanted. He loved to talk about sex."

"What did you learn from him, Ms. Hanson?"

I let my finger flick my clit, and I slid my fingertip down between my legs along my slit. I was unbelievably wet.

"He let me know that men were incredibly physical, and were very visual. He let me know that they were turned on less by emotion and more by contact." I rubbed my clit, and let my finger drive me on. I wanted so much to let them see me, to bare myself. I felt the wetness inviting me, pulling me in.

"He let me know that for men pleasure was an end in itself, that there was nothing wrong in achieving that pleasure for the sake of that pleasure itself. There didn't have to be an emotional attachment."

"Can you do that, Ms. Hanson? Enjoy sex as its own reward?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Chance," I said, letting the tip of my finger slide briefly inside me. "I'm enjoying It right now. I'm ready for more, Mr. Chance. I want to please you."

"Ms. Hanson," Mr. Chance said, his voice low and steady, "you can't see us right now, but I think you ought to know that Mr. Massey and I are, shall we say, fully enjoying your display. I..." he paused, and seemed to consider his next words carefully, "..I am completely erect... You're doing wonderfully. If you don't mind," he said, his voice kind and gentle, I have a few more questions..."

"Fine," I said, and brought both hands up to my shoulders and slid the straps down over each arm I was naked to the waist, my breasts free. I cupped each breast with my hands, squeezing them for their benefit, letting my fingers trace my nipples. "I knew you said for me to wait, but I couldn't..."

"That's all right, Ms. Hanson," he said, his voice low and husky. "You're very beautiful."

I brought both hands to my panties, letting my upper arms encase my breasts and squeeze them, knowing it would enlarge them and make them seem huge.

"Tell us what happened at the pool, Ms. Hanson."

"We were lying on lounge chairs beside the pool," I said, hearing the hoarseness of my own voice. "He was being very dirty, I'm sure. I remember at one point he told me how much he liked kneeling in front of the professor, who sat in a chair. He said it made him feel very much like he was serving him."

"Did his stories excite you?"

"Yes," I said, the fingers of my left hand between my legs, separating myself. My right forefinger slid up and down my slit. "He always told me how wonderful it was to make a man come."

"Did that excite you, Ms. Hanson?"

"Oh, yes," I said. "I thought it was so mysterious. I didn't know anything about it, but it fascinated me."

"What did Alan tell you?"

"He told me about how exciting it was to feel a man getting ready to come. How a man became engorged right before, how he pulsed, what if felt like when the first blast hit him, how he loved to take it in his mouth, but how he liked to take him out and watch him come, too."

I was so wet.

"What happened then, Ms. Hanson?"

"I noticed how he was on his stomach, but he was kind of rocking back and forth while he talked to me, and I thought it would be funny to make him turn over. I told him to, but he wouldn't at first. I got up and tickled him, and he eventually rolled over to stop me."