Isabelle Fifteen Years Later: Her New Career
Married with two kids, Isabelle goes to work to help with the family's finances and she does whatever it takes to make a sale
Warning:
This story contains cheating, interracial sex, reluctant sex, a threesome, bribes for sex, and a reference to fraternal incest.
All characters in this story are over 30 years of age.
***************
This story follows Isabelle Goes to College (in Incest/Taboo), but it takes place fifteen years after her freshman year. Isabelle is now married to her heartthrob Sam of her freshman year. This story can be read without having to read Isabelle Goes to College, but it might be more enjoyable if one reads the college story first.
**********
I married Sam when I was young. I was twenty-four. After the great Halloween fiasco of my freshman year, Sam and I broke up, rather brutally in fact. I went through a series of lovers, including Kevin who was my favorite, but I was never able to get Sam out of my mind. My brother Mathew convinced me to start up with Sam again. Mathew had always been my ballast, keeping me sane and sexually satisfied through it all.
I went after Sam, who had a girlfriend he was living with at the time, but Sam and I had always had a magical connection and it wasn't hard to relight the fire in Sam's belly that once burned brightly and exclusively for me. I had thought I had permanently blown it with Sam when just before Halloween I had a meaningless little fling with a handsome upperclassman Duane who had gotten me drunk and seduced me into his bed. Repeatedly, as it turned out.
Sam discovered my infidelity in the worst possible way, to wit by finding me with Duane
in flagrante delicto
with Duane's much too large cock buried deep inside my pussy. It also didn't help that Duane was black. I didn't see why him being black really mattered, but I did understand how a guy doesn't like it when his girlfriend is fucking another guy right in front of his nose. It's not rocket science.
If I had confessed my infidelity to him his reaction might not have been so extreme, but somehow the visual effect of watching me fucking Duane sitting up on his cock and moaning out my pleasure turned out to be rather brutal. He grabbed me and pulled me off Duane's cock just as it was erupting. He got some of Duane's cum on his clothes and socked him in the jaw so hard he broke one of Duane's teeth. It was a huge mess, and I was naked, dripping cum from the first time we had fucked, cowering in a corner. One doesn't easily forget these things.
I should have been loyal, or at the very least, more careful. I cried my heart out when Sam dumped me. Everybody, all but one of our friends, sided with Sam. My brother Mathew stood by me, and he comforted me the way only he can, and with Mathew nobody walked in on us while we were doing the nasty. Mathew was always super careful about that.
Only one of my friends, Claire, had some sympathy for me. "College is a time for sexual experimentation. You have to live a little. Sam should know that you love him, not Duane," Claire had said, but it was small comfort as Duane soon lost interest in me, too.
When you're a teenager, six years is a very long time, and winning Sam back took all of my cleverness and feminine wiles. I think what won him was that I was the ultimate sexual submissive with him, and he had free reign to use my body however he wanted. He took full advantage of my submissive attitude.
At first, he just wanted to humiliate me to exact some long-delayed revenge. It was surprising even to myself that his humiliations of me turned me on. He was fairly brutal sexually and rather unkind.
For example, he had a friend take pictures of him fucking me in all three of my holes, and while he didn't post them on the Internet thank goodness, he did print them out and let his friends pass them around.
He also fucked me outside, enjoying the risk of exposure. He remained dressed but I had to be naked and we were discovered by passers by more than once. I was so ashamed, but I did it all anyway. My orgasms were especially intense when we were discovered.
His revenge fantasies exhausted, we simply began to enjoy being together and as his anger ebbed his love for me returned. It took some time, but eventually Sam realized I was more than just a hot submissive slut to humiliate, and he began to see me as a woman, and one who was kind and loving.
I was so happy when Sam finally realized we were meant for each other and he dumped his girlfriend for me. You gotta love a guy like that. I do, in fact.
Sam's a great guy. Once his blind rage was spent and he got back in touch with his feeling for me, he realized the depth of my love for him and more importantly his own love for me. We married ten years ago. Sam gave me two beautiful children, Anna and Colin, now respectively ages eight and six. They're my hope for the future of the world.
Into every paradise however some problems arise. Ours was that money was tight and getting tighter. Even if Sam got a small raise (2% seemed to be the best possible and he hadn't gotten it yet anyway), we'd still slowly be sinking into a financial quicksand of debt.
It wasn't just the problem of paying the interest on our debt, or the college education of our two kids, or the monthly expenses of car payments, mortgage, real estate taxes, insurance, utilities, etc. It was also the repairs needed on the roof of our house, fixing the basement that flooded during every bad storm, replacing the refrigerator that sounded like a small war in the middle east whenever the compressor kicked in, etc. The house needed to be painted, too.
Even if Sam got a small raise (2% seemed to be the best possible), we'd still slowly be sinking into more and more debt and having to pay the exorbitant interest Visa cards charged on the debt. We decided that not only might it be a good idea for me to go back to work, it wasn't even an option. It was a necessity: I really had to do so. Since the kids were both in school and in after school programs, going to work was feasible and we desperately needed the money to maintain our lifestyle.
I was trained in marketing and so naturally I went into sales. I started at the bottom like everyone else, despite my ten-year-old degree from Wharton Business School. The Wharton degree did secure me a decent starting salary, but I had to produce. I had to earn my pay and then some. The pressure was intense.
I did everything right, but I was only closing a pathetic amount of sales. I couldn't seem to catch a break. My boss gave me some advice, but before taking it I thought it best to discuss it with my loving husband Sam.
"I don't see what the problem is. You of all people must know that sex sells. What's the harm in giving the men something to look at? You may be 29 for what, the fifth time? But you've still got your pretty face and you've still got a dynamite body. You're sexy as hell. Your boss is right. Dress sexy and act sexy and you'll make more sales," my loving husband said.
"Really? You're really okay with that?" I asked. I kept thinking of my time with Duane, so many years ago, and in particular how Sam reacted to it. I remembered how he took sexual revenge on me even six years later. I remembered everything. Did ten years of marriage and two kids and financial responsibilities change him that much?
My mother always said that leopards don't change their spots. Were Sam's spots really moving around?
"Isabelle, we need you to be a success. We need the money. Our family needs the money. Think of little Colin and Anna; you'd be doing it for them. In ten years Anna will be going to college. We need to start a 529. Our friends started 529s for their kids at their births. We have zero savings; indeed, we've got too much credit card debt. Anyway, it's just a sartorial change. A little change in your dress. It's no big thing, really," Sam said. "Looking sexy will attract the customers and your talent at selling will do the rest."
I was a bit surprised. I think Sam was being just a wee bit naïve. He's really quite innocent to the ways of the world, even if he is four years older and wiser than I am. Maybe he's not that much wiser, actually. Sometimes perhaps he's not wiser at all. He didn't seem to understand the risks. Still, to be careful, the next morning I modeled my outfit for him.
I showed him my outfit, turning around so he could see how my super short dress tightly hugged my firm bubble ass. My dress, which has a zipper down the front, showed off my cleavage to great effect if I let the zipper down far enough, which of course I had done. The dress was cut so that it came in dramatically to emphasize my tiny waist, in effect underlining my slightly exaggerated feminine hourglass figure. I was giving Sam full disclosure over how I would look to all those older, lecherous, male prospective customers I would meet that day. I had bought the dress for this very occasion, and Sam had not seen me in it before.
Sam gave me a wolf whistle. He gives a great wolf whistle. "Jesus, Isabelle, you look hot to trot! What are you selling? Yourself?"
"You know what I'm selling: Boring software packages to a boring industry, and to amazingly boring men. But of course, you're right in some sense. I am in fact really selling myself. My company prides itself on service after the sale. Personal service. You have a problem, call me. Day or night, I'll be there," I said, pulling no punches. This was my sales pitch. Male potential customers could imagine what my "being there day or night" actually meant.
"Might they get the wrong idea?" Sam asked. Good, apparently Sam could also imagine the not-so-hidden meaning.
"We hope they do! We want them lost in a state of sexual delusion, and in the midst of the haze of their sexual fantasies over me, they'll sign the papers. I'll get a big commission, and when they need help we'll send Henry over. He's our software expert," I said, giggling a little.
"Might not they get angry when they see Henry and not their expected sexpot?" Sam asked.
"I don't think so. They might get embarrassed for having had the thoughts they did, and disappointed, yes, but really Sam, what they would have been thinking is disgusting and doubtless they'll be ashamed of themselves," I replied. I believed that, too. Now who's being a little too naïve, I thought to myself?
"You're walking a thin line. It's a dangerous game you're playing. What if you have to cross it to make a sale? Would you do that?" Sam asked.
"Sam, No! I'm a married woman! I'm no cheater! You know that," I said. Then after a pause for a reality check, I added softly, "Don't you?" I worried he was reliving Halloween my freshman year. Once you see your girlfriend in the throes of fucking another guy, I imagine the image is hard to get out of your head.
"What if the commission is huge? Would you go the extra mile?" Sam asked.
"You mean, the extra five inches?" I said, and I giggled nervously. It had to be clear to Sam now!
"Maybe it would be the extra seven or eight inches? No way to know until you're in his hotel room with him, right?" Sam said, and he chuckled. "You used to be pretty casual about sex, back in your college days."
I knew it! He would never let that go, would he?
