An Unorthodox Sales Contest

We never had the conversation, Bob and I, but we were clearly of a common mind. I could hardly wait until he watched while I was being fucked. I was going to make that happen. I knew he'd love it.

I reported the gist of our agreement to the girls. They reported similar agreements, not as specific as mine perhaps, but agreements that showed that the guys were game to let their wives get fucked as long as they could fuck the other guys' wives. Seemed fair enough.

We were pretty sure that the other girls were in general agreement, but we hadn't actually spoken to everyone. We'd have to deal with girls that didn't find themselves in sync as the process unfolded.

Now all that was left was for us to let George's meeting take it's course.

Shortly before the next meeting, I sent George a text: "last meeting out of control. Pls add more rollaways."

He responded within moments: " # ".

"Hrd to say. # avail?"

"Maybe 5"

"OK. More if poss"

"Will do. When you avail?"

"1 thng @ time"

"Cant wait"

When Bob and I walked into the meeting, I dropped him at the bar and sought out the curtained area I'd found at the last meeting. Finding it, I poked my head inside the curtains and began to count the roll aways. There were certainly more than five, but before I finished counting I was pushed inside.

I recalled that touch and the smell of alcohol on his breath. I was not surprised when the initial assault was followed by exploring hands. I relaxed as George went so far as to pull my top over my head and extract my breasts from my bra. I allowed him to continue his exploration even to the extent of sucking his fingers clean of the juices he had found in the cleft between my legs.

"Don't cum," I said kneeling in front of him, "I don't want your cum all over my face and chest when we leave here." He nodded and I sucked him until he tapped the top of my head urgently. Not wanting to leave him in distress, I let his cock slip from my mouth, but continued with my hand until he shot across the small curtained area we shared.

I hurriedly dressed and left, leaving him with a dripping cock hanging out of his pants.

Things proceeded more or less as they had in the previous two meetings. George took the stage and asked the women to come up and stand with him. He began his examination of lingerie, but was brought up short when Sara, his first examinee, said (loudly enough for all to hear), "Why do you get to look down at our underwear, but no one else gets to see what you get to see?"

Clearly confused, George stepped back and said, "What did you have in mind?"

Sara said nothing, but turned her back to Freddie standing next to her. Freddie pulled her zipper down and Sara let the the bodice of her dress fall to her waist. She stood, her lingerie fully exposed to everyone.

"Oh, I see," George said, obviously disoriented.

Of the sixteen, twelve followed suit. The others nervously let him look as he had in the past.

Twelve now stood rather revealed to the men of the sales force. Four didn't quite know what to do. At that point those of us who had revealed ourselves, buttoned up our blouses and pulled up our bodices ready to proceed. In his confusion, George became strictly an observer and the question about panties matching bras was forgotten. He missed an opportunity because the planned response was to be Why don't you see for yourself.

Still a bit rattled by the reversal of control, George continued toward his goal, though now it was clear he wasn't clear what that might actually be. And he was right, our plans differed materially from his. Nonetheless, we thought he'd appreciate what we had in mind as much as what he had in mind.

He started the "count down". "Georgeanne," he called. Bummer. I hadn't wanted to sit down, but I made my way back to sit with Bob. Together we would watch the evening unfold. Bob squeezed my leg. I reached over and squeezed his cock.

When there were but three left, we waited anxiously. Our idea for the evening's festivities was about to be unleashed. George called out "Naomi". This left Joan and Suzanne. No one had lost two in a row, though this was only the third meeting in the contest, so I expected that Joan would be the "winner".

So did she. She hadn't been in on our plans and had been one of those who did not participate in the lingerie show tonight. She put on a stoic face, but I could see she was not doing well as she waited for the pronouncement. Suzanne, for her part, put an arm around her waist to steady her. Suzanne had been aware of our plans, but was at best lukewarm. She had agreed to show herself, but her bra, even with it's lace, was one used for complete coverage. It looked more like a sports bra with lace than one used to proclaim femininity.

George stopped and looked at the two still standing, then at the audience. There was not a sound.

"Bruce," he said, "participated most uniquely last time." He said it in a manner that seemed more of a musing than anything else. "Can't help but wonder about Jim."

A low rumble brought our attention back to the stage. The noises came from behind a stretch of curtains across the stage. George stopped apparently waiting for the noise to die down, but, I suspected, more to add to the building suspense.

"Jim and Bruce would you like to come up here?" A scraping of chairs and the two made their way hesitantly forward.

When the arrived, they instinctively took places alongside their wives. How strange it must have felt to know that in a few moments they would see their wife stripped naked to be used by the men in the crowd including the man who stood in front of them.

Last time Bruce had valiantly offered himself and must have thoroughly enjoyed it as women excited by his nakedness had thoroughly used him and had him use them. Was he anticipating a repeat? Did he want a repeat knowing his wife would be used as well?

Jim had been around for a while. He knew everyone here well and, of course, he had participated in using Freddie and Suzanne in the previous two meetings. In fact, for all I knew, he may well have one of those who used me. I squirmed a bit thinking about how close we were to our planned orgy.

Bob moved his chair quite close and slid his hand under my skirt. I looked in the direction of the scene being played out at the front, but felt his hand move upward along my leg. I spread my legs a bit as he moved slowly toward the inside of my thigh. He spent time there, his fingers a promise of ecstasy. I spread my legs more.

As he found his way to my mound George was saying, "If Joan is our winner, what thoughts do you have?" He held the mike to Jim.

Jim was unsteady in his response. "Well," he said, "I guess I'll have to work harder next quarter."

"Great thinking," George said, "but any thoughts about right now."

"Could I do what Bruce did?"

"Are you asking me, Joan, yourself, who?"

"I don't know." He was sweating.

"What about you, Bruce? That is, if Suzanne is our first winner two meetings in a row." George had turned toward Bruce pointing the mike so as to catch his response.

"Well, I worked really hard this quarter, so I'm not worried," he confidently responded.

"Actually, that wasn't the question," George prodded. "The question involved the hypothetical about tonight activities. You seemed to rather enjoy yourself at the last meeting." Then he added, "I am right, you did enjoy yourself last time, did you not?"

"I sure did," he blurted. "Suzanne never said whether she enjoyed it," he concluded.

Suzanne's eyes were the size of saucers. I could see her chest heaving.

"I don't think I have much in the way of answers from either of you so you may both return to your seats." George had a smirk he could hardly contain as they walked away. When they reached their seats, George called out, "Don't bother to sit." They stood looking very uneasy and wary.

"In a few moments all the guys will be busily removing their clothes in preparation for the evening's activities. I'm going to give Jim and Bruce a head start. Boys, just pile your clothes on the table." He nodded in the general direction of the tables at which they had been seated.

The logic was overwhelming and the directive was clear. They hesitated and looked at each other as if waiting for the other to start. George said nothing. Everyone was watching.

Bruce started first. Maybe because he'd been through this before, but whatever the reason, he pulled his shirt off just as he had at the last meeting. This time there were no fawning women to help or at least cheer him along, but without any hesitation he continued to strip until his clothing was piled on the table. All except his shorts. The bulge was quite apparent. "All the girls are waiting, Bruce." George said mildly.

He pulled his shorts off in a single movement. His cock sprang up. Instinctively he turned to show it off to everyone. There was a smattering of applause from the ladies, including me. He looked at George.

It was a splendid performance from my perspective. I was really hot and Bob could tell. Without my panties on, I would have been dripping. As it was I believe there was a damp spot on my skirt where I sat on it.

I could see Jim take a deep breath. He really missed the chance to either go first or at least strip at the same time as Bruce. As it was with him wearing an open dress shirt, he not only had to unbutton his shirt, but he also had an undershirt to pile on the table. He accomplished neither with any erotic flourish.

He's not fat by any means, but he has a tiny bit of a roll. I debated not watching, but I thought that might be insulting. My level of excitement dropped with every item he removed.

Finally he got to his white boxers. As these topped the pile on the table, we were treated to a cock so shrunken that it looked as if it was trying to find refuge in his belly. It was difficult to see his balls at all.

All eyes turned back to George who was still wearing his smirk. "Well," he said, "the party has started. Come up here and join your wives."

They made their way forward again with Bruce leading the way shoulders back, his cock swinging majestically. Jim followed. Everything about him was, at this point, unremarkable. I knew him to be a very nice person and a good friend, but at this moment he was just a naked and humiliated man.

Both took their places at their wives' sides.

"Well," George began (I wished I'd counted the number of times George started a comment with "well") the next decision is up to the wives. You see, this quarter we have a tie so we'll have two women to enjoy."

He let the comment hang in the air. Both couples looked at each other and around the room in confusion and realization of what George had just said.

George continued mildly, "Ladies, do you prefer to have your husbands remove your clothing or would you like me to do it? Doing it yourselves is not an option. Which do you prefer, Joan?"

Joan looked surprised, but without hesitation she opted for her husband. Suzanne followed suit.

"Alright gentleman, who is going to go first?" George stepped aside to give everyone a clear view. "Shall we flip a coin?" He produced a coin as he spoke.

The four nodded assent, though not in unison. The coin rose in the air. "Call it Jim," George said.

Jim was taken by surprise and managed a call of heads only after the coin had landed. Without looking at it George showed it lying on the the back of his hand to the four. Apparently it was heads as George said to Jim, "You win. What's your preference?"

"Bruce can go first," he said with some relief evident.

Again without hesitation Bruce turned to Suzanne. She stepped back as he reached for her and almost fell as her heel bumped against the stage. He caught her and turned her so her back was toward us. Carefully, slowly, he unzipped her dress. There was no communication evident between them and the move seemed to surprise her. As the tight black dress opened it revealed her tanned back broken by the bra strap running horizontally across it.

He turned her around. She was graceless in the turn stumbling a bit and still looking confused. With the dress unzipped, he moved behind her and pushed it off her shoulders revealing the plain white bra, the sports bra with lace I had mentioned earlier. Obviously undressing Suzanne wasn't one of Bruce's skills because he tried to push the dress downward rather than taking if off over her head. Her hips, while not overly wide, provided a barrier to this direction. She didn't seem to know what to do as he continued to try to push the dress down.

Joan took half a step toward them and said in a loud whisper, "Pull it over her head."

He quickly reversed course, grabbed the hem and jerked it over her head. The lack of finesse resulted in total destruction of all efforts she had expended on her hair. It seemed to piss her off as much as being stripped naked for a second time. She flailed at her hair to straighten it without any success. Lip reading I saw him tell her he was sorry. I expected that they might have some conversation later in which he would offer his apologies several more times.

Every dutiful, however, he continued on his assignment. Suzanne was now in a half slip and bra. He made the choice to pull the slip up and over her head resulting in more messing of her hair. What was going through her head I could only imagine, but I expected that she was plenty hot, and not in an erotic way.

He looked at her as she faced him. He was unsure of himself for the first time. Tentatively he reached under her arms for her panties probably because the bra catch was now rather inaccessible. She swatted his hands away and in one smooth move unclasped her bra, let it slide down her arms and handed it to him. He took it, but made no immediate further move. She continued, shucking her panties and throwing them at him. She turned her back on him giving the audience their first view this evening of her nakedness. She put her hands on her hips momentarily, then realizing the predicament was only beginning, she stood awkwardly waiting for something she didn't want to happen.

George continued watching. The smirk hadn't left his face. "Jim," he said turning in his direction.

Jim seemed more adept. He stood in front of her and began unbuttoning her blouse.

"Stand behind her as you do that," George instructed.

Jim moved around behind Joan. It didn't make any difference, she'd be naked soon enough.

He continued with the remaining buttons from behind. He removed the blouse like he'd done it before setting it neatly on the stage behind him. He unzipped the skirt and guided it to the floor. Joan stepped out using his proffered hand to steady herself. Again, the garment was neatly placed on the stage. I saw him take a breath, then realize that she still had shoes on. He said something to her and she stepped out of the shoes. He took a deep breath again and reached for her bra. It fell away from her breasts. Instantly she covered them with her hands.

Another deep breath and he started moving her panties toward the floor. As soon as her neatly trimmed pubic area began to appear, she shifted her hands covering her breasts with an arm and her pussy with her free hand.

The panties joined the rest of the neat pile of Joan's clothes.

"Jim," George began in a stern voice, "take hold of your wife's wrists.

He did.

"Now, Jim," George's voice was still stern, "pull her arms around to her back and hold them there."

Clearly he was not happy with this instruction, but complied. She did not resist. Again I was surprised at what beautiful women were married to our salesmen.

Both women and their husbands now stood naked in front of us. Jim continued to hold Joan's arms in back of her.

"OK gentlemen," George had turned to the naked foursome, "please find out if your wife prefers the table," here he moved onto the stage and patted the cushioning on the table. It was the table that he had secured Suzanne to last time. "Or the mattress." It was unnecessary to show them what he meant by mattress.

I could see the decision process in the eyes of the women. It was a choice of looking into the face of someone you knew as he made use of your body or turning your back and not having to watch, but risking someone wanting to use an entrance you preferred they not use.

The four drew closer to each other in whispered conversation. "The women want to know if they'll be gagged," asked Jim now perhaps emerging as a spokesman.

"I don't think will be necessary," George responded.

"Neither of them wants someone to use, you know, their . . . you know," it was Jim again after more whispered conversation.

"Well, I'm not sure exactly what you mean," George began, "but if you mean they don't want to have their ass poked or aren't up to blow jobs, I suggest that they both make the men's use of their pussies the most exciting thing that's ever happened so that other avenues aren't considered. The bottom line, if you'll excuse the pun, is that I'm not taking any positions off the table. Again, forgive the pun."

They both opted for the beds but made no move to lie on them. That was fine with me because I wanted to start on the table. I rather liked that helpless feeling for the first few cocks.

"OK ladies," George said somewhat impatiently, "take your places."

They moved the few steps toward a bed. Joan was the first to actually sit on one. Suzanne just stood alongside the one she selected.

"Gentlemen, your wives are about to be fucked. Would you please have them lie in the proper positions. These mattresses are what they, themselves selected." George was clearly annoyed.

Both men put their hands on their wives as if to get them into position and were immediately rebuffed as the women actually lay on the beds without further encouragement. They didn't look ready to fuck from my perspective. Arms and hands covered important parts and both had their legs clamped tightly together.

I had noticed earlier that there were large video screens hanging from the ceiling, but I hadn't paid any attention to them presuming they were there for another function. Now, as they became active we could see that ceiling mounted cameras were focused on the stage. Unseen hands moved the cameras so that the view in each screen was one of the couples.

"The ladies don't seem quite ready. Jim, test your wife's pussy and let me know if she's ready to be fucked." Jim knew what he meant and didn't play dumb or argue. He just sat on the bed by Joan, gently parted her legs and slowly inserted his finger. His verdict was that she wasn't. Without being asked, Bruce did the same with the same result.

I did notice that both cocks reacted positively to the assignment. Jim's actually began to look more like something that could be used to fuck a woman. We all also noticed that the cameras followed the fingers zooming in so that the finger and pussy filled the screen. The camera followed each husband's finger as it performed its mission and as it exited with its result. Once the mission was complete, the cameras panned over the women's bodies alternating between panoramic views of their bodies and excruciating detail of individual parts, mainly breasts, nipples, and pussies.

"Well," George said let's give you guys a few minutes to get them ready. I want you to use your mouth on her pussy, anyway you choose, to get her ready. And, oh," there was that smirk again, "Bruce you do Joan and Jim you so Suzanne."

Their cocks responded instantly. I must comment here, though, that I was thinking that while Bruce's cock became majestically hard at this point, I was routing for Jim who's cock, while clearly hard did not have the majesty of Bruce's.

To belabor the point, Bruce's cock had more color to it and I could make out the veins. The helmet looked like just that with an eye to it that promised a woman her fill of his seed. From his body it was just above horizontal (Ok, OK, I was staring), and pointed a bit to the right. It was long and thick without being frightening. It looked like it would fill me and, if used properly, bring me to multiple pounding climaxes. I considered pointing it out to Bob, but thought better of it. He knew I was staring and that was bad enough.