A String of Minor Disasters

As if penetration itself were not a bad enough word, Clifford asked me about 'deep penetration.' Sam continued the metaphor by constructing a scenario where we might benefit from 'deep penetration' via heavy advertising, then 'pull out' for a while, and then dramatically 'thrust back in.'

Clifford jumped back in saying we could 'overpower any resistance' by 'binding up' the television advertising market in selected cities like Tampa, Tallahassee and Jacksonville. 'Unprotected penetration, even deep penetration, could result in contagion' to neighboring markets.

I felt as if my tits were presenting themselves as a template for the men to sketch sexual double entendre innuendos via white boards. What was going on? Just having nipples poking out so dramatically should not have inspired this level of rude behavior towards an esteemed colleague such as myself. Unless... I looked at Carl.

Yep. Carl was smirking in his seat. He nonverbally told me what was going on by looking at his phone while his head gestured towards the head of the table where Sam and Clifford sat. He was letting me know that he had shown them his cell phone pictures of my naked body bound to my hotel room bed! Maybe he had even told them how we had fucked our brains out last night, how he had destroyed my lingerie and how I had borrowed a shelf bra for the presentations today? Most of all he probably told them what a submissive I was and how easy it was for him to get me into bed. This was a disaster.

Could I really have been so wrong about Carl? Could he really have done all that? I looked at Clifford's eyes. Yes, he certainly knew something he should not have known. He was looking at me in too knowing a way. He was undressing me in his mind.

My mind flipped back to my original state with Carl. He was a colleague who was nice but he was a zero on my sexual attraction scale. And yet, I had behaved like a wanton woman giving him free access to his darkest desires just the evening before! And I had loved it, too! What the bleep was wrong with me?!

As I was speaking over and over again about penetration the men were staring relentlessly at my boobs and trying to suppress chuckles. It was pretty damn cold in there - completely chilled. I did not know air conditioning could ever make a room so cold!

I could not look at my nipples while giving my penetration, excuse me, my presentation, but it did not take a rocket scientist to realize my nipples had to be seriously poking at my camisole and my blouse. Finally finished, I sat back down.

Sam, the alpha male head honcho asked the next man to present his report, and he did of course. Throughout the banality of his presentation however, Clifford, the beta male head honcho, kept right on staring at my boobs. I found a way to check myself out by looking at a reflection of myself in the window and whoa!

I understood all right why they were staring. I might as well as have been at a carnival show: 'Hey everyone, come look at the woman with the huge, erect nipples!' I was the next best thing to a bearded lady. A hell of a lot sexier, too, I'm sure.

I kept my calm and acted with aplomb. It was my only option, actually. I had been dealt a bad hand. That was the last time I was flying Delta, that's for sure!

We broke for lunch. I was seated in between Sam and Clifford. This was my chance to make a good impression and advance even faster in the company. I had my A game on and I think I impressed the two men. I was little unnerved however when Sam complimented me on my perfume. If my guess was right, then they both knew I was without panties because Carl had cut my only pair off me the previous night when he ravished me. Fortunately, they kept their hands to themselves during the lunch. Sleaze was not their style. Thank goodness for that!

I went back to the B&B to dress for dinner. My carry-on that I had checked had finally finished its peripatetic travels and was waiting for me (along with the dildos artfully placed once again on my pillow) in the Eros Room. I quickly put on a clean bra and panties. I put the dildos in a cabinet, out of sight.

I figured with a high degree of certainty that the men had enjoyed looking at Carl's erotic pictures of me. That was either beyond horrible or a good thing. On the chance it was a good thing I wanted to dress to kill. Not having expected this development I had packed nothing that would transform me into a siren for the evening. Situations like mine are why God gave us Madison Avenue.

I called Visa and got my credit limit raised. I was surprised how easy it was to do that. All they wanted in exchange was my first-born son. I explained I had not yet reproduced and they were willing to take a promise on my giving them my first-born.

I went out shopping and since time was short I skipped the three-hour tour of boutiques I would have loved to have done and instead I went straight to Saks Fifth Avenue. After all, the store backs up onto Madison Avenue. It was not hard at Saks to find the perfect dress. It crisscrossed my breasts, emphasizing them dramatically, and it hugged my ass as it clung to my body like a second skin.

The dress was backless of course but it was more than just backless. It was seriously backless. It was cut so low in the back that you could even see the top of the crack of my ass. I'm sure it would make a man want to stick his hand down the back of my dress to fondle my bare ass. I felt all tingly at that thought! It had two long slits, one on each side of my body. It looked best if I wore it without a bra and without panties. A C-string thong would have worked but I don't own one. Anyway, I felt as if not wearing underwear had become my new style.

In theory there are strapless, backless bras one could have worn with that dress. I did not have the time to try to find one, however. Besides, Clifford had an unholy fascination with my nipples, and this dress too showed them off to great effect. Wearing a bra would mostly kill that effect. In addition the crisscross ended up showing a hell of a lot of my boobs. It exposed them just up to the nipples. Even parts of my areolas were visible if I were to suddenly move.

Just then I was thriving on Clifford and Sam's lust for me. It was my only route to salvation in this mess I had created for myself, with Carl's help of course. I was going to do nothing to dampen that lust! At this point my career might well have depended on it.

I needed to be an object of desire given the hole Carl had helped me dig for myself. I could not however be thought of as a slut! Men love what they cannot have. I needed desire and impossibility wrapped up in one sexy package, namely me, but not in a cheap nor tawdry way.

I did realize I was treading on thin ice. It's a fine line between teasing nicely and being damned for being a tease. I would have to play this just right. I did not just need my A game that evening, I would need my A+ game!

The big drag was the cost of the dress. Do people ever really pay that much money for a dress? I could see buying it on sale. Perhaps at 70% off? But full price? Well, this was an emergency, wasn't it? The good people at Visa Cards would understand, I'm sure. Right.

I viewed it as a career advancement move. It might have also been a career destruction move. It was definitely a hostile move towards my savings account. The best feature of the dress was that no alterations were needed! It was ready to wear. Prêt-à-porter.

I modeled it again in the seclusion of the Eros Room. A few minutes after it was on and I was twirling in front of the full-length mirror, Beatrice knocked on the door. I opened it and she said, "Oh my lord, Ashley, you look stunning! It's remarkable! Who's the lucky guy tonight? Carl?"

I gave her an executive summary of what was going on.

"A date with two men tonight? You go, girl!" Beatrice said.

"It's not like that. They're my two bosses," I said. "They seem to like having me in the role of a temptress. Clifford at least is married. We're not looking at a three-way. It ends with teasing, not with sex."

"Honey, if you wear that dress tonight it damn well IS like that! And if I'm wrong, then why the dress? No red-blooded man is going to able to resist you in that dress!"

"Ah, but that's why I'm safe, you see. They're not red-blooded men. They have blue blood. Is the dress too much?" I nervously asked.

"It's too much for a man like Carl. I don't know your two bosses. I do know men, however, and you are sending a fairly clear signal with that dress. You know that, don't you?" Beatrice warned.

I giggled. "You didn't see the way they looked at me all day when I was wearing your shelf bra. The air conditioning turned my nipples into two miniature Eiffel Towers. The men were mesmerized for a while."

"So, you got their attention. What are you going to do with it?" Beatrice asked, cutting to the quick.

"Commit professional suicide, most likely," I said.

"The other possibility?" Beatrice asked.

"I'll be put on the fast track to advance in the company. I'm very capable, and only a man's erect cock can break the glass ceiling I'm bumping up against, to put it crudely," I said.

"Just as I thought. Okay my dear, here's what you do. Listen carefully. We don't have much time," Beatrice said.

I learned the style of my two bosses at the dinner. At dinner for some reason it was only the three of us. I had not expected that and it made me nervous. Beatrice's warnings began to resonate. They kept complementing me on my presentation and the great results I had obtained in only my two months on the job. They could not take their eyes off my dress which meant of course they could not take their eyes off me. Especially Clifford.

"I regret we have not penetrated the Florida market further," I stupidly said. "I will do all I can to achieve better penetration in the future."

At that point Clifford lost it and began laughing. Sam joined in. They were acting as if I had just told the world's funniest joke. I did not understand. I made it worse, saying, "Penetration of the Florida market is not to be taken lightly, gentlemen! I don't just want penetration, I want a deep, profound penetration. I want something big," I said.

"And hard?" Clifford asked, suppressing a chuckle.

"I'm not afraid of a challenge. Success can often be hard," I replied.

Sometimes I can be so dense. So opaque. Not only did I say that, but I said it with my nipples providing their own serious penetration of my dress. The crisscross had left a lot of boob exposed right from the get-go and now it was separating, just a little bit, giving the two men quite tantalizing little peeks. It was a struggle but I managed to resist adjusting the top of my dress. I simply let the dress do as it pleased. I discovered later what my dress wanted was to show off the color of my areolas.

I squirmed just a bit in my seat. The way the two men were looking at me made me both scared and wet.

"Let's put discussions of work aside and just enjoy our dinner," Sam said.

"Yes, the food is so good. The lemons are so sweet I could just suck on them forever," I said.

"They're Meyer lemons," Clifford said, trying mightily not to laugh as he said it.

During the dinner I could not help but notice the elegance, the intelligence, the knowledge, and the insightful nature of these two men. Most of all I was in awe of their power. These were men who ran the lives of hundreds of subordinates and did it fairly. They reeked of power. Power for me is an aphrodisiac.

The smell of the power of these two men was intoxicating. It drove me to an arousal that I had rarely, if ever before, experienced. I've always enjoyed being an object of desire of powerful men, but this time it was a bit over the top.

"You look so pretty tonight Ashley, we want to show you off," Sam said. "Cliff, let's take her dancing, shall we?" Nobody asked me if I wanted to be 'shown off' or to go dancing. Luckily like many women I'm a good dancer. They took me to a club they knew down in Greenwich Village, or at least I think that's where we were. The geography of New York below 14th Street is a bit incomprehensible to me.

They spun me around the dance floor and the two slits of my dress made the front and back into essentially large flaps and they rose high as they spun me. I was a little worried since I was commando under the dress. It was obvious I was without a bra but how could they have known I was without panties, too? Of course, there were no panty lines, which is exactly why I was commando, but I could have had on a thong for example. Maybe they did not know? Maybe they did not even care and were just having fun with a pretty woman? Who knew? Not me.

After the dancing the two men escorted me back to Twilight House, the B&B. Beatrice greeted me, smiling with open arms, telling the men I was her favorite and most loyal client. She laid it on thick. She sat the men down and gave them port wine, cake, and cookies. Sam eyed the Scotch whiskey in the glass doored cabinet. It was a Bunnahabhain 12-Year-Old and Sam complemented her on it. He announced that it was his favorite Scotch. That was all it took for Beatrice to bring out the Scotch whiskey.

I noticed Beatrice had changed her clothes. She was truly a pretty woman and even though she was close to 50 years old she looked sexy as hell. I also knew this was part of her plan. She offered the men a tour of the B&B since she finally had a few empty rooms. They praised the place, as well as her desserts and libations, and in spite of my concerted attempts for it not to happen, we all ended up in the Eros Room. Even though I had earlier taken the precaution of squirreling away the dildos, the maid had apparently taken them out and there was, once again, the dildo array on my pillow. I died in embarrassment even worse than I had earlier done when Carl saw the dildos.

Sam in particular seemed to be mesmerized by Beatrice. Try as he might, he could not take his eyes off of her shapely body. I wondered if he would go after her once I was back in Arkansas. She was doing nothing, absolutely nothing, to discourage his interest, either.

The men enjoyed the artwork of the nymphs and the centaurs on the walls. Sam noticed the ceiling mirror. He raised an eyebrow, looking at Beatrice. She giggled. She had a fetching giggle.

"You'd be surprised how popular the ceiling mirror actually is, hon," Beatrice said. "With men as well as with women." Sam smiled knowingly in response. Beatrice had looked straight at me when she said "with women." This was not lost on Sam, of course.

"I'll leave you three lovebirds alone now," Beatrice said, as she left with a knowing wink to Sam and Clifford.

"Lovebirds?? You're leaving us here?" I said anxiously as Beatrice disappeared out the door of the Eros Room.

I began to panic. Events were moving quickly down a road I did want to take or even to be on! It was what happened with Carl all over again. These two men, my bosses, had wined and dined me, taken me dancing, and I had worn a dress that made me look exactly like a temptress! To make matters as bad as possible, the three of us were in the most erotic and suggestive hotel room in all of New York, if not the entire United States!

My only surprise was that there were no plaques on the wall saying things like 'Marilyn Monroe was laid here.' I was not famous so there would be no historical plaque commemorating my indiscretions. That was something, at least.

Sam pulled me towards him. His tug was quick and strong and without thinking my body was pulled quickly flush against him. Shit, he was already hard. I could feel his cock pushing up against me. He was big, too, I was fairly sure. I pushed away from him but his arm around my waist was too strong. My pushes went nowhere.

Sam smiled at me. His smile was enigmatic. Not knowing what to do, I spoke.

"Tomorrow will be a busy day, gentlemen. Thanks for a lovely evening. Shall I walk you to the door of the Twilight House?" I said. I thought that was pretty clear.

"Of course. We should all get a good night's sleep," Sam said. I relaxed. Probably my body language showed it, too. "How about first, though, a little kiss goodnight? You look so pretty and sexy tonight, my dear," Sam added.

"Hear, hear!" Clifford said. "Well put, Sam."

I smiled. "I'm not sure it's a good idea to kiss men I work with. Wouldn't you agree?" I asked. "I really enjoyed your company this evening. Let's keep the memory of today perfect as it is, okay?"

"And seal it with a kiss?" Sam asked again. He still had his arm against me and was holding me up against himself. My back arched to give a little distance between our two faces. Sam's cock began to twitch. I figured he was twitching his cock on purpose, to emphasize his attraction.

"A goodnight kiss might lead to another one, and then we could go down a path we'll all regret later," I said.

"I can promise you one thing. I'll never regret anything that happens with you, Ashley," Sam said. "A kiss on the cheek? We can pretend we're French, right?"

"Right!" Clifford added. "A little kiss on the cheek between two French people is nothing. It's like shaking hands."

"If you say so," I said.

"We do!" both men said at the same time. I giggled.

A nymph from the painting caught my eye. She entered my head and seemed to whisper in my ear to give them a real kiss. I shook my head and blinked. A centaur from the painting whispered in my ear, "You were amazing. One of my best ever. Pretend Sam is me, okay?"

I was really freaked out. The whispering voices in my head convinced me to a moral certainty I was, to put it technically, totally bonkers. Reality, however, dictated action, and I decided to take charge.

Still held tightly against Sam I leaned forward to kiss his cheek. Sam moved his head! My lips landed on his! Damn it all! His hand moved up to behind my head and held my head there in place, and I felt the nymph entering my head and attempting to control me. Trying to fight off Sam and the nymph at the same time was beyond my abilities. I ended up losing both battles.

I stopped resisting and simply returned Sam's kiss, nothing more. However, that one action sealed my fate. Sam and I kissed for a long time. I no longer could summon any resistance. It was unreal.

I melted my body against Sam's as he pressed his lips against mine. I opened my mouth to welcome his tongue. I moaned softly as the kiss entered its second minute and his hands stroked my ass lovingly. I was somehow a spectator to what I myself was doing.

Cliff looked on with a growing lump in his pants as Sam's hands went under the flaps of my dress to stroke my bare behind. This was decision time. Stroking my bare ass was totally out of bounds and inappropriate for my boss to do to me, but so also were the types of kisses we were exchanging. My head was fuzzy. I could barely form those thoughts. To my horror I found that my response was only to continue moaning. I could sense the two men smiling as I kissed Sam while he fondled my bare bottom.

When the kiss finally ended I stood still as if I had been glued to the floor. Sam lightly pushed straight down on my shoulders and I responsively sank to my knees. At eye level was the large lump in Sam's trousers. I heard the nymph calling to me. I felt a compulsion to obey. The compulsion was too strong to deny.

Following the nymph's wishes I freed Sam's erect cock from its confines. At the same time Clifford moved behind me and slowly, almost painfully slowly, lowered the zipper of my dress. The nymph in my brain forbade me to protest and I did nothing to stop Clifford.

Clifford pushed the dress off my shoulders so that only my breasts were still holding it up. The dress clung to my body which is why it did not simply fall. Cliff pulled me up to a standing position and I had to abandon Sam's lovely cock. I knew however the interruption would be only temporary.