Complex Infatuation

Ever hear of a business owner whose primary motivation for selling his company was because he didn't want to cheat on his wife?

Now you have, because I, Brent Voorhes, did just that.

It wasn't my only reason, but it was my primary one.

My business was the proverbial garage startup. I had a degree in biomedical engineering and after college worked for a big firm - the work was not rewarding. In my free time I became interested in quick test kits for various medical conditions that would inexpensively allow a consumer to test himself/herself at home to see if it was worth a more sophisticated follow-up test. Without boring with details not related to this story I wanted the tests to be capable of providing no false negatives if used twice at times two days apart. Up to 10% false positives would be acceptable as long as the consumers knew that fact.

Working out of my garage, I first came up with a test kit for Babesiosis, a relatively obscure tick-borne disease. I sold the patent rights to that to a nationwide test laboratory. After that I started working on other test kits, and by the time of my third test kit, despite the fact that I was in debt from all of the capital I had borrowed to prove the effectiveness of my kits, I felt confident enough to go out on my own and start Resikit Inc.

By the time that I was forty three Resikit was making scads of money, had over 250 employees, and was a purchase target of a number of different biomedical and pharmaceutical companies. It was at that time that I started getting interested in selling.

************

By the time that I had turned thirty six, I was divorced from my first wife. Kathy and I got married a year after college, and she was with me during the garage startup period. My long hours and going into debt to start the business certainly didn't help my marital situation, but what killed it was the fact that I cheated. My cheating resulted from a classic "entitlement" attitude I developed when I sold my second test kit patent rights. My paramour Sophia was young, impressionable, and thought that I was hot shit. After three sessions with her, however, I got my head out of my ass and cut it off. Unfortunately she didn't take the breakup well and reported my dalliances to Kathy.

When Kathy confronted me I didn't lie, even though Sophia had no actual proof. By then I felt bad enough that I wasn't going to compound my sins by lying. Confession may have been good for my soul, but it was the end of my marriage; fortunately we had no kids.

I thought that I felt about as bad as I could have until I learned 183 days (not that I was counting) after the divorce decree had been formally entered that Kathy had stepped out on me too, and more than just the three times that I had.

While my divorce settlement didn't significantly adversely affect my business or financial situation, primarily because I was in debt and Kathy had no faith that my efforts would ultimately succeed, it almost killed me emotionally.

I married my second wife Brenda when I was thirty eight, at a point where Resikit was starting to show real promise. I got good legal counsel, and Brenda and I signed a prenup. I insisted that a mutual morality clause be included in the prenup as an extra incentive - as if I needed one - to remain faithful. Sex outside of marriage was defined as any oral, vaginal, or anal contact - and even French kissing, although regular kissing did not qualify.

Before I married Brenda, or we signed the prenup, I had been completely honest with Brenda and had told her my past history with infidelity, and the great regret that I had about it. She seemed pleased with the morality clause. The prenup also provided that she would get nothing from Resikit (whether stock or proceeds of sale) regardless of the reason for any divorce, and I would get no part of the money she brought into the marriage (she was fairly well off). The penalties for violating the morality clause were significant.

My problems started when Resikit was in the midst of its best growth spurt, about the time that I turned forty. It was necessary to hire a full time experienced HR person, so I had the present part-time one (who was being moved to a different department, something that he was happy about) cull the resumes and let me interview the best four.

The first interviewee was Gail Preston, a five foot one inch tall woman with 5 inch heels who weighed maybe 105 pounds. If her personality and ability to fascinate were translated to size she would have been seven feet tall, 350 pounds. She had been married six years, was thirty five years old, and had impressive educational and work experience. However those facts barely registered with me. There was something about the way that she carried herself, her posture when talking, the flips of her lustrous brown hair off of her shoulders, and the way that she pursed her lips, that was beyond captivating. By the time that she left the interview, with a combination firm and sensual handshake, an hour later I was drenched in sweat with an uncomfortable sensation at my crotch.

I immediately realized that it would be dangerous to be around this woman, but it wouldn't be fair to her to not consider her just because she was as sultry as a never-ending tropical vacation; so I punted! That is, I called in my two V Ps and said "Jim and Judy, I decided that it would be best to distance myself from the process of hiring an HR director. Here are the four resumes of the most qualified candidates. You two make the decision - if a tiebreaker is necessary we'll have Ken pick between the final two," Ken being the chief of engineering.

"I thought that you just interviewed that little sparkplug who sashayed out of your office a half hour ago," Judy replied with a perplexed look.

"Yes - she's one of the top four. However, based upon that interview I decided that someone else should make the decision and I've nominated you two - so call her and have her come in for another interview, along with the other three," I muttered in reply, as that uncomfortable nether region feeling intensified.

Judy and Jim shrugged their shoulders, said "OK," and sauntered out of my office. I immediately left the building for the gym and worked out to exhaustion. "I hope that they don't pick her," I murmured under my breath at least a dozen times while performing various lifts or while watching TV on the elliptical.

A week later Judy and Jim came into my office first thing in the morning. "We both agree that Gail Preston is by far the best candidate," Judy announced. "She starts a week from Monday. We're giving her the office across from yours," Jim added.

I swallowed hard, plastered a fake smile on my face, and replied "Great."

************

It was as bad as I feared. I had to interface with Gail, or at least see her, every work day that I was in town. Since we also had a very sociable office, there were many parties, picnics, gatherings, retreats, and other activities outside of work where we interfaced, most - thankfully - with spouses. Gail seemed to be happily married to her husband John, a stockbroker. Brenda never seemed to warm up to Gail like she did to most other management employees, despite the fact that as far as I could tell Gail was always affable at these events.

At a holiday party after Gail had been as Resikit for about two years somehow Gail and I ended up dancing together, while John and Brenda did. When a fast song morphed into a slow one and Gail inserted one of her matchless thighs between my legs disaster struck. Not only did I get rock hard but as Gail chatted away - it wasn't like she plastered her head against my shoulder - I spontaneously ejaculated in my pants. That was the first time that that had ever happened. I don't think that she felt the wetness before we broke away from each other, but she had to have felt my hard-on.

On the ride home that night, Brenda was not her genial self.

After that night I became preoccupied with the idea of fucking Gail comatose. I spent way too many waking hours thinking about her, and when I saw her butt flouncing down the hallway at work I almost had other spontaneous ejaculations. It was then that I decided that for the good of my marriage, and for my self-image considering my pledge to never cheat again, that I needed to separate myself from Gail.

By the time of my calamitous dance with Gail I had had a number of serious inquiries from biomedical and pharmaceutical companies trying to buy Resikit. We had a significant portfolio of worthwhile patents, covering almost every aspect of our thirty one commercial products, with even more promising products in the pipeline. Plus, I had clearly amassed more money than I could ever use and I was impressed with the philanthropic attitudes of such notables as Bill and Melinda Gates and Warren Buffet so that I wanted to work to improve society rather than my personal wealth. I almost convinced myself that this second reason (devotion to philanthropy) was the main reason for wanting to sell. However, during those times when I was thinking of Gail as I was making love to Brenda I had to admit to myself what the real main reason was.

When I entertained suitors for the sale of Resikit I involved the six highest ranking members of the management team in the process, including Gail. Gail expressed nervousness to me about the situation since she seemed certain that she was the most expendable member of the team and didn't think that she could find a financially suitable alternative position. I counseled her not to worry while doing my damndest not to ogle her thighs as she sat across from my desk with her legs crossed and her skirt rising.

I ended up selling to the third - of eight - highest "bidder" (all bids were so obscenely high that it really made no practical difference to me from the monetary standpoint which one I selected) because I considered them a good fit and also because they didn't balk at giving Jim and Judy two year iron clad employment contracts, and Gail a five year one. I individually swore those three to secrecy regarding their contracts. Gail had tears in her eyes and despite my hesitation threw herself on me and hugged my neck tightly while kissing my cheek with tears in her eyes. In a totally juvenile reaction I didn't wash her dried tears off my cheek for two days.

***************

After I had transitioned out of Resikit, now a division of Megabucks Pharmaceuticals, Gail kept in touch and invited me to lunch a number of times. I tried to turn all of those invitations into events with our spouses, and was usually successful although I got the impression that Gail was sometimes miffed by my attitude. During those outings I sensed a gap forming between Gail and John, and Brenda was usually more reserved for a few days afterward. Finally I started to make excuses for not meeting Gail.

I immersed myself in my philanthropic activities and was actually enjoying life, although my pre-occupation with Gail hadn't waned a significant amount.

I had been gone from Resikit for almost two years - and had not returned Gail's last several calls - when it was time for the annual end-of-the-year holiday party. As a separate division of Megabucks, Resikit still had its own social events. Of course as the prior owner I was invited. I called up the person in charge of the event and asked if Gail and John were coming. I was assured that they were not, which left me free to go.

Of course I wanted Brenda to come with me the Friday night of the party, but she begged off saying that she had a business trip that would not allow her to return until Saturday morning. Brenda continued to work because she got enjoyment out of it; we certainly did not need the money.

When I got to the hotel where the party was being hosted I was enthusiastically greeted by almost everyone there. It seemed that all of the employees were grateful that I had sold to Megabucks (which apparently was a good employer), and were pleased with the ten thousand dollar bonuses that I had given to each of them when I left. Then, despite what I had been told, I saw Gail there. When she saw me she approached with fire in her eyes. "Why have you been avoiding me Brent Voorhees? I thought that you liked me, and you sure looked out for me when you left by getting me that five year employment contract," she chastised, pointing her index finger in my chest.

I noticed that her words were a little slurred. Gail rarely had more alcohol than a glass of wine at a time, but that night she seemed near drunk.

"Uh...well...I haven't...uh...avoided you, Gail. I've just been really busy," I defensively stuttered, already starting to sweat. "Uh, where's John?" I continued, hoping to change the subject.

"He's not here - and don't try to weasel out. I know that you've been avoiding me and before the night is over I'll get the reason why. Now dance with me," she ordered.

Gail and I danced five or six dances together, including one painful slow one, before I convinced her that I had to talk to the division manager and his wife, as well as other management employees brought in by Megabucks. "Only on the condition that after the party is over that you meet me for a drink at the hotel bar to discuss a few things."

"Uh...sure," I mumbled.

Before I talked to the division manager I called Brenda on my cellphone and got voicemail. I left a message.

My hope that Gail wouldn't track me down once the party wound down was a false one. She grabbed my arm and hustled me into the bar before the band's last number. We found an isolated, dark, table near the back of the bar, and ordered drinks, she a Cherry Bitch, and me a Virgin Mary.

Actually, Gail didn't need another drink because for the first time that I had known her she was plastered - or close to it. However, I wasn't about to tell her to order a club soda. I just grinned and prepared myself for what was to come. (I've removed all slurring from her conversation).

"So, Brent, let me be direct. I think that you've been avoiding me because you have a real thing for me. Admit it!"

"What makes you think that, Gail?"

"Because you've always been super nice to me, yet guarded. You get rock hard when we dance, and you can't keep from ogling my thighs, although I can't figure out why since they're nothing special," she chided - followed by a burp and giggle.

"Uh, well I like you, but I don't really think that I have a thing for you..." I started to reply before she called out "Bullshit."

"Admit it - you have a 'thing' for me," she snapped while glaring at me. "If you don't admit it I'm going to sit on your lap," she chuckled.

"Uh...well...you are sexy; I guess most hetero guys would have a thing for you," I responded, taking off my tie - my collar was really getting tight.

"No they wouldn't. I have tits that barely fill an A-cup, not enormous honkers like most guys cherish," she shot back.

"Uh...TMI, Gail," I muttered. It was ignored.

"Plus, my ass is too big - I look like a Hottentot my buttocks sticks out so far," she snickered.

Actually she had what to me looked like a perfect bubble butt.

"And what is it with you staring at my thighs. They're too big, and I got them too muscled skating and skiing when I was younger," she continued, followed by another burp and giggle just as our drinks arrived.

Truth be told, Gail's thighs are world class; while they certainly are muscled, they are on the sexy side of muscled, not the gross side.

After a couple of sips of Cherry Bitch Gail continued on a roll. "Plus, I'm tough to live with. I have a high libido and when I want sex I don't take 'No' for an answer. And woe be it to John if he's not in the mood to lick my pussy - it needs daily close-up attention," she snorted.

She proceeded to give a litany of all of her perceived flaws (she snored, was grumpy in the morning, hung up her panties in the bathroom, etc., etc., etc.); I followed each declaration with a mumbled "TMI," each of which was ignored.

After a good forty five minutes of her denigrating herself with the ostensible purpose of telling me that there is no way that I should have a "thing" for her and that we should just be friends, in fact she was just making me more intrigued by her. She was a real life person - in addition to being a sex goddess.

Once Gail polished off her second Cherry Bitch she got glassy-eyed.

I gently grabbed her arm, stared into her poorly focusing eyes, and asked "Gail, are you all right? You look like you're about to pass out."

"I am a little loopy," she giggled, remaining glassy-eyed.

"Let me call a cab for you," I continued.

"I'm staying in the hotel tonight," she responded, reaching into her clutch and after considerable fumbling, including spilling some make-up which I picked up for her, she pulled out a key card and waved it at me.

"What room are you in? I'll help you up there."

"Shit, I can't remember - probably on floor sixteen - maybe seventeen; I think that it's 1705," she muttered.

"Let's go to the front desk," I responded, helping her up and scooting her toward the reception area as she hung onto me to keep from falling.

When we got to the reception desk I handed her key card and my driver's license to the desk clerk, who had a name tag that read "Madeline."

"Madeline, my friend Gail Preston here says that she's registered in your hotel but doesn't remember her room number. Here's her key card - can you tell me what room she's in?" I proposed.

"Uh...well...I'm not sure if I should..." Madeline started to reply, clearly noticing Gail's intoxication.

"Look, the reason that I've handed you my driver's license is because you're going to record the information from it to make sure that I don't do anything to Mrs. Preston. I'm just going to drop her into her bed and leave a note for the maid not to wake her up. If she overstays checkout time I'll pay the overcharges," I continued in my most reasoned voice.

I could tell that Madeline was still unsure so I continued "Please check with the manager, Madeline. I don't want to get you in trouble, but Mrs. Preston needs help."

Madeline did go into the back room and returned two minutes later with a big smile. "The manager says that it's fine. I'll photocopy your driver's license and then check the key card for her room number."

After photocopying my license - amused by Gail's giggling and clutching at my chest and arms - Madeline ran the key card through a machine on her desk and wrote down the room number on a piece of paper and handed it to me. "1825" the note read.

"At least she got the first and last of the four numbers right," I chuckled to myself as I led Gail toward the elevator.

Gail was very talkative - although little that she said made sense - as I virtually carried her to the elevator, and from the elevator to her room. When I opened her room up she kissed my cheek and said "Thanks, Brent. I need you to take my dress off and hang it up - if I sleep in it it will be ruined."

I didn't think that was a good idea, but didn't see how to avoid it. I unzipped her slinky dress, and as it fell to the floor realized that it had a built-in bra. The only clothes remaining on her body after the dress dropped were a thong (is there such a thing as a "mini" thong?) and her four inch high heels.

Her tits may have been A-cup, but they were breathtaking if you like oversized nipples, because they looked to be half nipple (and puffy ones at that). I happen to LOVE oversized nipples, especially puffy ones.

Plus, her now fully exposed thighs were even more than world class, if there is such a thing, and her butt was as perfect as it looked when she was clothed.

After readjusting my iron-hard cock so that it wasn't busting my zipper, I helped Gail sit on the bed, then removed her shoes from her sexy feet, put her shoes in the closet of her room, and hung up her dress. Then I swung her legs onto the bed and pulled the covers over her delicious body, after getting one more good look at her exquisite puffy nipples.