02

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Chapter 1

The Sales Contest

My husband works for a mid-sized company as an outside salesman. This rough economy has had everybody scrambling to make their quotas. Few were coming even close.

Not unexpectedly at the last sales meeting the Vice President of Sales, George Grossman, laid it on the line. Either there was a major uptick in sales or there would have to be significant reductions in the sales force. In addition, he was revising the sales goals and would release them at the next sales meeting. My husband, as one of the more junior members of the sales team and, like most, significantly below quota, would logically be one of the first to go.

The odds of finding another job to support us weren't good. We have two young children and a mortgage as well as the normal living expenses that are part of an up and coming lifestyle.

He didn't sleep well for quite some time as he anticipated the new sales goals. As the meeting approached he became more fretful to the point of depression. The sales meeting arrived and with it Mr. Grossman's presentation of the new sales goals. His presentation put everyone in a state of shock.

For starters sales continued the slide we'd seen all year. The shockers included the release of two of the older salesmen, not to be replaced. Their quotas were to be redistributed to others in the sales force so everyone would have their quotas increased! I couldn't believe it. They increased quotas at a time when everyone was having difficulty even coming close to making their goals!

Hard as all this was to comprehend, it was nothing compared to the new sales contest. Usually sales contests had incentives which included a high end prize like a trip or top notch luggage. It was always something worth working extra hard for. This contest was entirely different. It was make your goals or else!

Grossman had shown that he was willing to fire salesmen and had increased everyone's sales goals. Now with the threat of job loss at a time when finding another was unimaginably difficult. He came up with a new sales contest. No trip, no luggage. This time the salesmen's wives were the prizes! The wife of the salesman who did the worst, percentage-wise on making his goal was to be a prize shared by the remainder of the sales force! Anyone who didn't want to participate could pick up his final check at the door. He had written them for each of the salesmen. They only had to be picked as the salesman left.

There was virtual pandemonium as each couple reacted to the unbelievable news. Not picking up your check was contractual agreement to the terms of the contest.

I reflected on when Bob was hired for his job. The company owner had come up with a wonderful product and needed salesmen to crisscross the country selling it. It was being manufactured in this god forsaken corner of the country where no good salesman would ordinarily live.

The owner had sweetened the offer of employment with a house on a beautiful new golf course he had built. The house was easily a seven figure item. The owner would hold the mortgage so there was no bank to convince to loan us the huge amount necessary to live there. We were, however, directly indebted to the owner who could foreclose at any time.

Now this. The salesmen were to be given their goals secretly and told not to share them with anyone, not even their wives. Nor were they to share their progress in any way.

At the next quarterly sales meeting everyone was to come, including wives. After dinner and the usual open bar, the performance of each salesman and the extent to which he made his sales goals would be disclosed, but only to the extent of learning who the big loser was. Actual goals and their attainment would remain a secret.

Chapter 2

The First Prize is Awarded

Bob worked his ass off that quarter. We didn't expect him to actually make quota, let alone exceed it. All we wanted was for him to do better than most of the others. What we didn't know was how well everyone else was doing. I didn't even know how well Bob was doing.

As the quarterly meeting approached, we both worried, but I think I worried more than he did. If the rules of the contest were followed, there was a real chance that I could be the wife that was presented to everyone else as a prize.

I've never been so nervous in my life. As we dressed to go, I didn't say anything about it to him. I kept a stiff upper lip, as it were, but I did put on really nice looking underwear. While I didn't want to think about my being the one passed around, I didn't want to have on shoddy underwear if that happened.

"Will all the wives stand." It was George and he was actually putting all of us on display!

He started reading from notes. He didn't call a salesman by name nor did he actually give the percent of goal, he just called the name of a wife, "Sally, you may sit." There were, of course, no women salesman.

Then "Jill, take your seat." After a bit he said, "Oh, by the way, these aren't in any order. It's just that the one left standing at the end will be the wife of the salesman who made the lowest percentage of his sales goal."

I must admit that the wives all tended to be good looking. I think it must have been a part of the hiring process to examine the wives as well as the salesmen with the goal of making sure that each salesman had a good looking wife on his arm whenever it happened that his wife joined him during client outings.

Over half the wives had been seated and I was still standing. I started to sweat. I mean really sweat. It was running down my back and my armpits were soaked. I could see this was true of others.

I looked out the window at the golf course and our homes on spacious lots surrounding it. We couldn't sell our house if we wanted to. We were stuck here.

Everyone in the room avoided eye contact. The air was close. Bob held my hand tightly. Only George looked others directly in the eye as he pronounced their fate.

"Ellen, you may sit." He was dragging it out. Bob was holding my hand so tightly it hurt, but I didn't care. I needed the support.

There were only three of us now. I was actually dizzy with fright.

"Remember, these aren't in any order." He didn't want anyone to know how close they had come to being on top or on the bottom.

"Georgeanne, take your seat."

I didn't sit. I fell into my chair. I put my head down and cried. I didn't cry loudly, but the tears gushed from my eyes for several minutes. The silence in the room made me realize that everyone was watching my reaction.

I recovered and raised my head drying my face with my napkin. When I looked at George, he smiled. Apparently he was waiting for me to recover. Suddenly I realized that he didn't want anything taking away from the next name because reading the next name would leave only one wife standing.

It was between Freddy, Sal's wife, and Caroline, Henry's wife. The four of them looked terrified.

"Well, for this last name, why don't we have the two wives come forward." I realized later that what he actually was doing was to get the wife of the loser away from her husband just in case he had a strong reaction. Certainly neither could afford to lose his job, but you never knew just what might happen when one of these two realized that his wife was going to be passed around in a few minutes.

I looked at the men who's wives had been given permission to sit. Certainly there was relief on their faces, but I thought I also saw something else, pure lecherousness. We didn't know how this was going to play out, but these guys were anticipating having sex with one of the women standing at the front of the room. How that would take place was yet to be disclosed, but whether in public or in private, standing up or lying down, each of these guys was fantasizing about the orgasm to come.

The two women stood on either side of George. He had put his note cards away. He knew which it was to be so there was no need of notes.

"I'll bet each of you has chosen pretty underwear for tonight. Let me just take a peak."

My god, I thought to myself, he's going to get a little something from both. Neither knows which is going to be pawed so neither knows whether she can tell him no.

He turned Freddy toward him and pulled the top of her dress out as he peered at her underwear. "Very nice," he murmured into the mike. "She has on a white-on-white lacy bra. I'll bet her panties match."

He then turned Caroline and pulled her dress outward. Caroline stumbled a bit as he pulled since the fabric didn't want to give much. He held her off with one hand while he forced the bodice outward so he look down her dress. "Oh, my, Caroline didn't bother with underwear." He was obviously surprised. He didn't release her. He pulled the dress out more exposing her completely to his view. I half expected him to just jerk it down.

Eventually he straightened up and said, as he kissed her cheek, "Caroline, you may sit down."

She did. Right there on the stage at his feet. Her legs must have just given away.

Ignoring her, he said with grandiose effect, "Freddy is our prize for tonight." He held both her hands up over her head as if she had won something.

"Now let me show you that pretty underwear she's wearing." He set his mike down and, standing behind her, slid his hands over her breasts and began unbuttoning her blouse.

The men moved closer and I realized that we were to watch George as he removed her clothes, item by item. She stood solidly but gazing at the stage floor as George continued to massage her breasts as he slowly unbuttoned the sheer blouse. He would release a button then feel her breasts and move on to the next button. He took his time.

After the last button he pulled the blouse from the skirt, unbuttoned the cuffs, pulled it off her shoulders, and dropped it unceremoniously. It landed in a heap, but I may have been the only one who watched it fall. The others, especially the men, stared at her bra, waiting.

These were the same men who only moments ago waited so anxiously to learn the fate of their wives. Now they couldn't wait to enjoy the fruits of their last quarter's labors. Did they think they had earned this?

George continued to take his time. He ran his hands over her now bare midriff. He ended each circuit of her midriff with his hands on her breasts. He was smiling, almost drooling. I glanced at his crotch to see how he, himself, was reacting. There was no question based on the bulge in his pants. It was so obvious that I half expected to see him cum in his pants.

Instead of unfastening her bra, he slid his hands inside both cups and continued his exploration for a few moments, then lifted her breasts from the cups holding them out on display. She had jumped noticeably when he put his hands inside her bra, but now she squirmed and turned a bit.

"No, no, my dear," George warned her. "You know the rules." What rules, I thought. I expect she thought the same thing, but she relented and allowed him to turn her back to her audience.

Now he released the catch on her bra and removed it. It landed on top of the discarded blouse.

That Freddy had a good figure was plain when she was dressed, but seeing her naked from the waist up underscored the fact. Her breasts stood out with a slight upturn giving her hard nipples an erotic prominence. George ran his hands over her breasts ending by lightly touching the tips of her nipples then pinching them lightly.

He looked at the others and holding her breasts out as an offering, he said, "Ralph, feel these tits and tell me what you think."

Ralph stepped forward onto the stage and felt her breasts as George had done. His cock was already trying to free itself. Now it pulsed in his pants. Maybe no one else was looking, but I was fascinated. I couldn't help but wonder how big it was as it pulsed in his pants. I like men's cocks and began to fantasize about what this picture would be like if all the men had to be naked while they felt up this woman. I like to watch men cum and wondered if they would cum spontaneously if they were naked.

Bob looked at me curiously as I squirmed slightly in my seat. My panties were getting wet. I was thinking that I could make them cum in their pants if I were the naked one up there.

I leaned over to him and said in a whisper, "Aren't you going to join them?" I nodded toward the stage where most of the men were now taking turns feeling Freddy's breasts.

"You wouldn't be mad," he asked incredulously.

"Nope," I whispered. "All that work this quarter. You earned it. If I were the one up there, you can bet that Sal would be up there feeling me up. And, if George continues this contest, it could well be me up there next time so you better get what you can now." I winked at him. To tell the truth, I was getting off on the display on the stage. I wondered what it would feel like to be the object of so much attention. To have so many hard cocks surrounding me.

I decided that if I were the one next time, I'd make the men show me their cocks as they explored my body.

Bob left for the stage. I watched his butt as he walked away wondering if his cock was hard. I'd make him show me when he got back. I realized just how much I was getting off on this when I began to picture Bob naked as he walked toward the stage. A small orgasm overtook me before I calmed down.

I shook myself back to watching what was happening on the stage. George was now holding Freddy's skirt up far enough to reveal her panties. He slowly continued raising it until it was at her waist and her panties in full view.

"Sam, would you hold this up for me," he asked one of the men not involved at that minute in feeling Freddy's boobs.

Sam took the skirt holding it high. He was now in profile for me. His cock was also quite noticeable.

George reached down the front of her panties. "Aren't these a beautiful pair of matching panties?, he opined as he maneuvered his way inside those 'beautiful' panties. We could all see his fingers exploring her lips, rubbing them and squeezing them together. She jumped when he apparently found her clit. He began to concentrate on it. She squirmed. Her hips moved in this direction and that with his finger following her every move. Finally the movement of her hips switched from escape to sexual undulation. He continued until her breathing quickened and became a series of short gasps as an orgasm flowed through her body.

He stopped playing with her and standing back slightly, he told her it was time for her to remove the rest of her clothes. She looked startled for a moment, then a flash of anger. As I watched the emotions cross her face, abruptly the resignation returned. Even as Sam continued to hold her skirt, she unzipped it. Sam let go the hem he was holding and it fell. Without stopping she stepped out of her skirt and followed by stepping out of her shoes.

Only her panties remained. As she made ready to remove this final piece of clothing she asked George, "Will the men be able to, you know, ah, will you, ah . . . ."

"Take off your panties," George directed. "I, for one, want to get my cock inside you." That seemed to answer her question. She stopped with the waistband of her bikini panties beginning to fold over as she finally understood what George meant. She clearly didn't know what to do.

"Take them off now," George said again with a lascivious smile. "You don't want any of these fine men to cum in their pants."

I could see her suck in a breath, then push the panties a bit further. She hesitated as her pussy began to come into view. Then with a much more obvious sucking in of her breath she bent and completely removed her panties. She stood quickly and asked George, "Where do you want to have me?"

"Bend over and grab your ankles," he replied moving behind her. She complied and he slowly inserted a finger. She gasped, but said nothing.

He unzipped and brought out a cock he could stick in me any time. It was hard and pulsing, long and thick. The veins stood out almost making it appear ribbed. I squirmed as I watched him slowly insert it. As his hips met hers he grasped her tits and began to fuck. I watched as the now shiny cock moved in and out. I rubbed my clit as I watched. He sped up and I sped up. When he came, I came. He groaned with pleasure as his cock spewed into Freddy.

I must have screamed as I came. I'm pretty sure I almost passed out because when I was able to focus again, everyone was looking at me as I bent over, my head almost on my knees, one finger on my clit; one deep inside my pussy.

"I'm glad you enjoyed that almost as much as I did," George said to me from the stage. "Maybe next time we can do that together."

I was so embarrassed I looked for something to crawl under, but Freddy was still getting most of the attention and within seconds, I had been forgotten.

Things were well in hand, so to speak, on the stage. A roll-away bed was on the stage and on it, Freddy. I couldn't see her face, but she had her legs on the shoulders of whoever lay atop her. I could see his butt as he pumped in and out. I watched as his movements increased to a crescendo, then stopped suddenly as he collapsed on top of her.

As he moved to make way for the next, I saw his partially erect cock slide out, wet and shiny. I wondered what if would have felt like to have been Freddy. As for her, she didn't seem to be taking it too badly. I wondered.

Next in line was Bob. Good old Bob, his cock ever ready for action, stood looking at Freddy. She held up her arms toward him. "Come on, big boy," either she was saying it or I was. I felt his cock enter me even as he knelt on the bed and slid it inside her. I felt each pumping motion as I had so often. I put my finger on my clit moving it slowly so as to be ready to match my orgasm to his.

He moved slowly inside her the way I always like him to do. I couldn't see clearly how she was reacting, but I was sure she was enjoying it exactly as I would. I'd make him do it to me later just the way he was doing her.

As his motion increased in tempo, so did my finger. Now I didn't care if anyone heard me cum. I loved watching my husband's ass as he pumped in and out. His timing was similar to when we made love. I watched, my finger continuing to excite my clit. My breathing was short. I knew he wouldn't be long. We both sped up and came practically together. I was lightheaded. No one seemed to pay attention to my grunts as I came again.

The men stood around looking at Freddy as each took a turn. Several took her a second time, but no one was allowed to put his cock in her mouth or her ass. That's a relief, I thought. I hate it when Bob sticks up my ass. I let him do it occasionally, but I don't really like it. It's something of a birthday treat, or for a promotion, but he has to go clean himself off right away.

On the other hand I definitely like giving a slow, languorous blow job. So if my turn comes, I'll tell George that I'll do blow jobs.

Nothing more seemed to be going on so I walked up to where Bob was standing (naked, of course) on the stage. I ran my fingers down his back and butt, then took hold of his now resurrected cock. He was absolutely glowing as he smiled at me. I looked down at Freddy who really didn't seem much the worse for wear.

Releasing my grip on Bob, I knelt by Freddy and whispered in her ear, "How was it?"

She rolled on her side, no longer concerned about her nakedness, and whispered back, "Some of those guys are pretty good. I might want a repeat." She held her face in a neutral expression, but there was no doubt about what she meant. Aloud, but still to me she said, "I'm going to hurt in the morning."