Sales Slut

Sales Slut

All characters are 18+

Let me begin by stating that most of this story is true. I'm writing it from my wife's perspective because that's how it was confessed to me years after the fact. The names have been changed, and I've left out critical business information just in case this is found by anyone who might have a legal reason to have issue with it.

It involves a young wife and mother being coerced and used by older men to keep her job. If you come to the category that specifically lists cheating wives, and you don't want to read about cheating wives... I don't know... maybe try the Romance category where wives only have sex with their husbands.

=================================

My name is Violet. My husband and I met when we were 23. I had been with nine other men by that time. 6 boyfriends, 2 one night stands, and one boyfriend's father (maybe a story for another time). I was actually dating 3 guys when my Willy and I met, though I was only sleeping with two of them. He jokes that he got there just in time because the first weekend we spent together, all three of them called while he was there. Kinda awkward, but we laugh about it.

I had been working on Wall Street when we met, and he worked uptown doing art for magazines. Our apartment in Staten Island kinda sucked, but it's what we could afford.

Then I somehow found a job in Nyack at a label and tag manufacturer. It was a big step up from billing clerk to billing manager, and eventually to office manager. Meanwhile, Willy landed himself a job in the art department, so we got to commute to and from work together, and have lunch together. It was nice... until shit hit the fan.

You don't shoot up in the ranks at a private company like that without stepping on a few toes... and I had. The bastards in question literally framed me and my husband for embezzling the company for thousands. It turned out, the same bastard who started the rumors actually had embezzled the whole company's retirement funds and ran off to South America with the girl who helped him do it. That didn't come out until much later.

So, we got offered a shitty deal. Chris, our VP, fired my husband, and made it clear that if we took any sort of legal action, I'd be next. They took me out of the office manager role, and made me the sales manager of the struggling division that did high end product labels and tags. Liquor brands, high end clothes, jewelry, watches, etc... and it was a lower salary. The silver lining is that I would get paid commission on any sales I made.

When I landed a huge contract with a liquor brand, I got a very nice commission check, and I'd see another every quarter while we kept them. I flew all over the country trying to get more, and did pretty well.

Then this happened.

I was brought into Chris's office, and he explained that we'd be going to Europe together for a week. There were a number of manufacturers we were going to visit, and I'd try to get sales at all of them.

By this time, I was 27. My figure wasn't the stunning 36-18-36 from my youth anymore, but I looked pretty good at 36-26-36. I walked 3-5 miles every day, so I had some nice legs too.

Anyway, we made plans and I left my honey alone to look after our 18 month old daughter. He was out of work again, and had been struggling to find anything good. I knew it preyed on his pride, but he was good at what he did. I knew it would just be a matter of time. Meanwhile, even with my commissions, it was tight. We bought a home closer to work, and it was eating away at our savings.

So, on the designated week, I packed up, kissed my hubby and daughter goodbye, and flew off to Switzerland. We rented a car, got to our hotel, and that night Chris took me to dinner.

Chris was about 60 at the time, married, and a consummate businessman. His boss was Johan age 55 or so, the President of the company and the son of the founder, Fritz, who was still alive in his early 80's.

Chris waited until after dinner while we sipped brandy before dropping this little bomb.

"Violet. We are very impressed with your performance, and we'd love to keep you on. Unfortunately, Johan's son, Freidrch (Fred), is looking to get into the company. This will probably be your last week."

I freaked! "Chris! I've got a daughter, and Willy is out of work again! How can you do this to me? And why the hell would you fly me out to Europe to tell me?"

"Well, this is why I wanted you to come with me on this trip," he said. "Fred is no salesman. He will lose us money if allowed to take your job. Even Johan knows this, but this comes from Fritz."

My eyes could barely see as the tears drowned them while I struggled not to start bawling there in the restaurant.

"We might be able to change his mind... but it's going to take a lot of effort on your part. And... you might have to be... flexible about your methods."

"What's that mean.?"

He frowned and folded his arms. "I know who you need to meet with for most of these clients. Some of these men are... influenced by pretty young women. Wear a skirt, show some leg, unbutton your blouse a bit, and smile. Be friendly. Let them flirt a bit. Maybe take them out to dinner or for a drink or something."

I already did most of those things to get a sale, so it didn't seem all that bad, so I just nodded. "Okay. That should be easy enough."

"And you might consider doing the same with Johan." Chris added. "He likes you. He really does. And he'd rather have you in this position than his son. Besides, Fred is probably going to be taking my position when I retire. It would be a shame to lose such a good salesperson as you just to vacate a position for a year or two."

"But that's his son," I argued. "Of course he'll give him my job if it benefits him."

"Johan wants some benefit too. A hot sales rep can be more useful than a kid with no practical experience."

I gawked at him for a moment, hardly believing my ears. "Hot sales rep?"

Chris snickered. "Oh, you know what I mean. You're effective. But, yes. But let's be honest. You are quite easy on the eyes. A pretty girl can get what men can't sometimes. You'll see. Now, I think we should go over the first one we'll meet tomorrow. It'll be like a rehearsal."

He called the waiter over, handed him a credit card and said, "Send up a bottle of FLY to room, 803."

"That's my room" I said.

"I know. I thought we'd have a nightcap while we practice your delivery. Go on ahead, change into something that will impress tomorrow."

"Oh. Umm, okay." I was starting to get a little nervous, but a nightcap was a good idea. "And, umm. What's fly?"

"Pomegranate vodka. I think you'll enjoy it. I'll settle here and be right up."

My room overlooked a lit courtyard with a pool and hot-tub, and despite the chill in the air, I was hoping to soak in there before we had to check out in the morning. Guess that plan was shot down now. I knew the schedule Chris had us on would put us in a new hotel every night, both here in Switzerland, and when we crossed the Alps into Italy.

I got out of my traveling clothes, and picked out a black pencil skirt, a white blouse, and modest two-inch heels with pantyhose. I was just buttoning up when Chris arrived at my door with a red bottle, two glasses, and looked me up and down in the doorway before entering.

"The skirt is too tight," he said at once. "Do you have anything else?"

"Sure. I have a pleated..."

"Go change into that. And I think you'll need taller heels."

"I have a pair, but they're not very comfortable to wear for a full day."

"I want to see them," he insisted, and started pouring us drinks.

I went to the bathroom and put on the other skirt and taller heels, came out, and Chris was seated on the bed, looking me over. "Nice. The heels work well with your legs. Skirt's still a little long. Maybe we'll just have to take you shopping."

He was starting to make me a little uncomfortable, the way he was looking at me and suggesting edits to my wardrobe. "Chris, I'm not sure this is appropriate for..."

"If I'm going to give you the best chance to keep your job, you should worry less about appropriateness, and more about effectiveness."

I huffed, but shut my mouth. I needed the job, and he knew it, so I just hid my concerns behind a sip of that Fly stuff. Wow! Potent, and silky smoothe! Just enough sweet to make it a good nightcap, but with a hot burn of alcohol that lit my mouth up.

"Right. Walk to the window and back."

Chris coached me through using my heels to walk with more 'wiggle', back straight, head up, all the posture training I had in Catholic School. He taught me how to greet formally and informally in German, how to ask politely to speak English, and how to shake hands with a man to show respect and deference.

I was just starting my third drink when he said, "Alright. Let's sit at the table."

I sat as I usually did, legs crossed, and he frowned.

"No. Don't sweep your skirt down like that. Do it again."

I blinked at him, got up, and just sat without adjusting my skirt.

"You see, this is why you need a shorter skirt. Do it again, and lift your skirt enough to sit your ass on the chair without the skirt under you."

"Chris!" I gasped at him.

"Just do it. This will help."

I rolled my eyes, but the liquor was making me a little silly, so I laughed it off, stood, and lifted my skirt in the back before sitting again.

He shrugged. "Hmm, better, but we definitely need to get you a shorter skirt." He then looking me up and down again, and leaned closer, brushing back my hair. "You have a nice neck. You should show it more. Maybe put your hair up in a bun."

I lifted my hair and held it like that for him to see what it would look like. While I did, he lowered his eyes to my chest, and bold as brass, unbuttoned one, then two, then three buttons until my cleavage was completely uncovered.

"Your breasts are probably going to help a lot. We should consider that too."

I just sat there, feeling very open and vulnerable as my boss checked me out. He adjusted the collar of my shirt, and let the back of his fingers slide along the swell of my cleavage, judging my reaction. When I didn't pull back, he did the same to the other side, and slipped a finger inside the top of my bra, and I jumped.

"Now that's a problem," he said. "A reaction like that could be considered insulting." He did it again, and I held still this time, one hand still up behind my head with a fistful of hair.

He stroked the other side again, dipping his fingers in far enough to brush my nipple, and despite the situation, and my nerves, I could feel it get hard at once. He did it again, really feeling the hard tip against the back of his fingers, then switched sides again, tugging my bra aside a bit to expose more of me.

"This division was doing nine-hundred-thousand a year before you took over," he said. "Now you hit, what was it? Two million last year?"

"Two point two." I corrected him.

"Just relax and be cooperative. With my help on this trip, we can probably get you over four-million this year. Trust me, Violet It will all work out... if you let it." His fingers closed around my nipple, making me twitch.

"Chris." My voice sounded like I'd been trying to swallow my tongue. "Chris. I don't want to do anything... awful."

He then used both hands, stroked over my tits, pulled the bra open further, and gently pushed until my hard nipples popped out. "I think you'll be just fine." Then he unzipped himself, let out his hard cock, and took one of my hands and placed it on his shaft.

"Chris!" I gasped. "Oh my God! What are you...?"

"Shush!" He hissed. "Hold it. Stroke it, like this."

At first I resisted, meowing like a sad kitty, "no, no, no, no..." over and over while he made me stroke him up and down. Then he cupped one of my tits, giving it a good squeeze while closing a finger and thumb around the sensitive tip, tugging at it just right. My 'no, no, no' turned into 'oh, oh, oh...', as he found one of my secret hot buttons.

"Now you're getting it," he said, and made my hand go a bit faster. "How about we consider the deal closer."

I had no idea what he was talking about until he took me by the arm, and pulled me slowly off my seat and the floor on my knees. I looked up at him like a scared rabbit waiting for the oncoming truck to run me over. He pushed his pants down a bit more, let his hard-on stick up out of his shorts, and pulled me hard toward his lap.

"Chris!" I pleaded. "I'm married. You're married! I can't..."

"Would you rather be unemployed?" He said, and I whimpered my defeat.

You have to understand. I didn't mind giving head to someone I was into, but I wasn't much for taking cum in my mouth. I've since learned to like it, but back then, not so much. I got "Plea..." out before he shoved my mouth down on his cock.

At first he just moved his hips, making his shaft slide in and out a little until I got all of him wet. Then his hand came down on my head and urged me to go deeper and faster.

"Take it all," he said, shoving me down until my lips kissed his pubic hair. He wasn't terribly long, so I had no trouble swallowing all of him. On the plus side, the cologne he was wearing was like an aphrodisiac. I was loving that part.

Then the face fucking began. He pushed my head up and down, forcing me to gulp and gag as he rammed into the top of my throat. I held on, taking his cock the best I could until he got up, standing over me, and I had to get up on my knees to take him again.

"Take off your top!" he demanded, and my hands went to work on my blouse even before I realized what I was doing. I struggled out of it, then unhooked my bra and let my big 36D's out.

"Good girl!" he growled. "Now, go faster. Come on. Show me you want it."

I didn't, but I needed the job, so I sucked him off like a proper whore until he started grunting and groaning while his cock jerked in my mouth. All of a sudden, he pulled out and shot a spurt of cum over my face. Gross! Another shot right onto my forehead and hair, then he pumped and stroked to dribble out the rest all over my exposed tits.

When the heat of the moment was over, that wash of guilt hit me like a ton of bricks, and I could feel tears starting to well up in my eyes.

"No. We can't have that." Chris demanded. "This won't work if you start crying after winning a sale."

"You expect me to give these men blowjobs to get a sale?" I shouted at him. "I'm not a whore!"

Chris smiled down at me, rubbed cum from my face down to my lips, and stuck his cummy digit into my mouth. "Suck it off."

I huffed, and obediently sucked the cum from his finger. He did it again, and again until he made me eat most of the cum he splattered my face with.

I swallowed the last of it and he grinned at me. "You see. You are a whore."

I started weeping again, but he ignored it, helped me to my feet, and pinched one nipple to get my attention. "If you do this tomorrow, and land this sale. We're looking at a one-million dollar sale. And that's the smallest one we're going to see on this trip. Go to whatever length we need to make the sale, and I'll kick another one percent commision your way." His grin was still a little cruel, but some of his normally kind nature showed through. "Do the math, Violet! No whore makes that kind of money!"

A whole percent on a one-million dollar sale is huge! We got paid on the margin, but our margins were pretty good. This would probably be a one or two thousand dollar blowjob! While I was standing there with him pinching and tugging at my nipple, I became aware of him moving me toward the bed, and I was reluctantly letting him. He pushed me with my thighs against the mattress, then bent me over to lay my upper body down.

"Please," I whimpered as he started tugging down my pantyhose. "My husband can never know about any of this."

He pulled my pantyhose and skirt down, kicked at my feet to make me part my legs. "Not a word." he promised.

I thought he was going to fuck me, but the next thing I knew, his face was between my butt cheeks and he was licking my pussy from behind. Now, I may not be a fan of giving oral, but I am huge fan of receiving it! My honey is amazing at it. He knows just where to touch, and where to lick, and suck, and rub, and all of it. Chris, on the other hand... It was like the comparison between a souffle and scrambled eggs.

Chris went at it like a starved man at a BBQ, just stabbing his tongue in deep and hard while grabbing my ass and giving the occasional spank, which I kinda love. I mean, I love a nice souffle, but sometimes an omelet can just hit the spot! I stood there, legs open wide, humping my hips at his face, silently trying to get him to find my fucking clit! It was maddening!

Then, after what must have been at least ten minutes of this torment, he stood up, grabbed me by the hips, and shoved his cock into my pussy in one wet thrust. I didn't want to be there, didn't want my boss to make me suck him off, didn't want him to fuck me, but holy shit I wanted to cum so fucking bad!

"I knew you had a nice ass under those mommy clothes," he chuckled, and spanked me hard. The shock went right to my pussy, and I cried out.

It felt like an out of body experience. I could hear this crazy woman moaning and shrieking, begging. "Deeper! Harder! Yes! More!" I could hardly believe it was me saying those things. A good fifteen minutes of solid fucking later, and I finally got to cum! I made a racket, yelping and crying. Then Chris told me to shut up, or they'd send the police.

While I came down from my climax, Chris kept fucking me until he was ready, then pulled out, and spun me around to shove me to my knees again. This time, he wasn't interested in the facial.

I got a taste of my own pussy as he shoved his length down my throat and held me there. His cock jumped and throbbed between my lips as he groaned at me, and a gush of cum filled my mouth. I was looking up at him through tearing eyes as he glared down at me, holding his cock as deep as he could go while I choked and held my breath.

"Swallow it!" he demanded.

I squinched up my face in disgust, and swallowed with an audible 'gulp!'.

Only then did he pull out and let me gasp for air. The aftertaste was worse than the initial slimy, salty mouthful, and I was desperate to wash my mouth out.

He left me there on the floor while he pulled on his trousers again, drank the last of his Fly, and nodded down at me.

"Good girl," he said proudly. "You'll do just fine. Get some sleep, and we leave at seven tomorrow morning."

He left, and I crawled over to the table, swallowed the last of my drink, filled the glass again, and took it with me to the bathroom to sip while I cried. My boss just used me like a whore. He fucked my mouth, my pussy, and made me eat his cum, TWICE! And all for money!

At first I thought I'd just tell him that I changed my mind. That I'd quit. That I'd charge him with sexual abuse. Something! Then I saw the phone. I told Willy I'd call. Checking the clock, I realized he wouldn't even be awake yet, and it made me feel even more alone and cut off.

If I was going to get through this, it would have to be up to me. We definitely needed the money, and until I could find something else, this was what I had to work with.

The next morning, I got dressed into the same outfit he undressed me in the night before, and Chris never made any comment about what he had done to me. I felt like ten miles of rough road after the night I had and the jet lag took its toll. I stared out the window of the rental car, wondering how much of this I'd be able to take before breaking.

We pulled off the main highway and went into a small town with beautiful, if unimaginative, charm. I just remember how clean it all looked. No graffiti, no loose trash. It looked like a Stepford town.