Joanie: The Epilogue

This is my 11th and last Joanie story. I hope you have liked them. I'm even older now than I am portrayed in my stories, but the memories are clear as a bell. One does not forget these things easily, if ever. Thank you for having stuck with me and read the stories, if indeed you have. If this is your first Joanie story, you might want to read some of the others before reading this one.

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If you have read my ten stories of my college years, you know I had some pretty wild times, and that I was cruelly used by men for their own needs, be it promotions, money, or just plain sex. The common theme was that they exploited my two weaknesses, both tied to being drunk, those being exhibitionism and too easy to get into bed. At times I was even much too easy. Basically, when drunk I am a slut. I grew up too fast, I think.

Well I'm out of college now, even out of graduate school. I'm 27 years old, single, and I still have a great body. And I'm still short, only now I call it petite. I've joined the workforce, and I am providing computer security for, you guessed it, a bank in New York. I dye my hair blonde, changed how I wear it, and I go by my middle name. I call myself Susie, and nobody at this particular bank has yet fingered me for being "Joanie of Zurich," thank God.

I'm very careful about exhibitionism at work. My colleagues think I don't like alcoholic drinks. They respect that. I don't date my colleagues. I don't think I come off as a cold bitch or anything, just perhaps a private and reserved person who gets the job done. So far, the men I work with have respected that. Mostly they are geeks, anyway, a different breed of people than private bankers, traders and the like.

I have stopped several denial of service attacks, and prevented numerous people and criminal gangs from hacking into people's accounts. I even stopped the Russians and the Chinese, and that's not easy. I'm quite proud of myself. Even better, the bank realized just what I've done for it and desperately wants to keep me happy. Traders and private bankers having naked pictures of me, or pictures of me in sexual acts on people's computers is not the way to do that.

Anyway, those pictures date back 7 years ago, and 7 years is a long time. I was a foolish and carefree 20-year-old then, and I like to think, and hope, that I am more mature now.

I get paid good money, too. That's why I work at a bank.

The weekends are different. Indeed, sometimes they are very different. I don't have a boyfriend, really, although there are around three men who are after me. Of the three, Luke is my favorite. He's not a banker; he's a lawyer, quite a successful one. The big drag is that he is much older, being 38; that's an 11-year difference.

Last weekend he took me to the Hamptons, out on Long Island, to the most remote "Hampton," called Montauk, where he has a small place. He calls it The Chateau, ironically since it is anything but a chateau. Nevertheless, even a small place out there on the beach is worth millions. Montauk is at the Eastern end of the island, and the island is long, over 100 miles long. So at times out there I feel as if I am at the end of the earth.

It was a warm day, so we went to the beach. I wore my bikini, and he got interested. We began to make out together, as if we were still teenagers. But we're not, so when he tried to remove my top and stick his hand into my bottoms, I gently stopped him both times. I said, "Wait. Wait until we're back in the chateau."

"Susie," he said, "There's nobody around. We're alone on the beach. That's the advantage of living out here." I looked him in the eye, and then he tried again to remove my bikini top. I was not drunk at all, I had not a drop of alcohol since the previous weekend, but I let him do it.

He continued to kiss me, and clearly being pleased with himself for having gotten my top off, he fondled my breasts. It felt nice. I could feel him smiling through the kiss. We continued like this for a while. It was exciting for me to be topless on the beach.

He climbed on top of me and I could feel his erection through his swim trunks. He began to remove my bottoms, too. That would make me naked underneath him, and I knew Luke well enough to know that meant that inevitably we would be fucking on the beach. I pushed him off, stood up, and said, "If you are going to keep at this, Luke, you had better buy me a few cocktails first."

As I stood over him, topless, he was looking up at me, enjoying the view. I did not realize my bikini bottom had been pushed down so that it was barely hiding anything. I saw a flash of light, looked carefully, and could barely make out our neighbor, ogling me with a pair of binoculars. A lens had reflected the sun, and that's why I saw the flash. We had a voyeur.

It was then that I noticed the top of my vagina was poking out of my bottoms, and I instinctively moved my arms to pull it back up, when my arms just stopped. We had a voyeur. All the better, let him look. So I left it like that, and I began to get aroused.

All the old feelings from college came rushing back, and I got wet at the idea of having a voyeur, even if it was probably just our neighbor. Thinking back, I guess I got aroused especially because it might be our neighbor. He was a hunk, and I had a crush on him.

If he was the voyeur, we could do lots of things for him. Ideas raced through my head.

I walked back to the chateau topless, not to titillate Luke although it clearly did, but to give more of a show to the voyeur. Aroused still, I wore no bra under my blouse when I dressed for town. I had not done that since college. Luke did not even notice, he was so used to my conservative way of dressing it did not enter the realm of possibility in his brain.

I kept one short skirt out at the chateau. Twenty-seven year old professional women who work in banks don't wear mini skirts like I did routinely in college, but for my usual wardrobe, this was fairly short. I also went without panties. Luke did not know that, either.

I had had some sort of brain freeze out there on the beach, and was acting like my old exhibitionist self from 6 years earlier. It felt good. I knew I would not do this again, it was too risky, but I wanted to make the most of this one time.

Luke took me to Southhampton, party central for the Hamptons, and he took me to a bar where boys meet girls, girls meet boys, girls meet girls, and boys meet boys. It's also where NYC professionals go to get their ya-ya's out on the weekends. A lot of drinking happens in those bars, and a lot of girls get drunk and get laid. I wished Luke were not there; I wanted to go native, to go wild, to get drunk and get laid.

I saw one girl who was really drunk. She was around 24, 25. I thought she was pretty, but there was a sadness in her eyes. Her blouse was unbuttoned and her bra was unclasped. Two men, one on each side of her, had a hand on each boob. She was kissing a third man while they felt her up, and giggling when she was not kissing.

She did not have a care in the world; the booze had removed them. I had the feeling though except for tonight, she had a troubled soul. The men exploiting her drunken availability obviously did not care what the hell her concerns were, or even if she had any, as long as nothing impeded their goal to use her. She gave every indication that all three of them might reach that goal that very evening. For a fleeting moment, I wished I were she.

Later she left with the three men. They did not get far. I looked out the window and saw one of them fucking her right there on the sidewalk, while the other two looked as if they were waiting their turns. I told Luke I needed another drink.

I was getting seriously drunk, and began to play a game with myself. I decided with each drink I would unbutton a button on my blouse. I told Luke and he approved. Luke said I already had had three drinks, and I was holding my fourth, so he unbuttoned three buttons.

There was a mirror behind the bar. There usually is in bars, and often it reflects the bottles lined up in front of it. I always find it a pretty, appealing effect. That's probably why all bars do it, I guess. I looked at myself using that mirror, and I could see a lot of boob. I tried leaning forward, and I could see all of my boobs save the nipples. I looked forward to finishing my fourth drink; then I would really be on display. I took my time, though. A lot of the fun is the anticipation.

I said to Luke, "I'm feeling wild tonight. After I finish this drink and lose my fourth button, shall we pretend we're single? You try to pick up a girl, and I'll try to pick up a man. Let's see who wins first. The one who gets kissed first is the winner. What do you think?"

Luke is handsome, rich, and smooth. I was pretty sure he would get someone right away. There were a lot of NYC secretaries who came out on the weekends expressly with the hope of meeting someone like Luke. Many of them were here, and most of them were drunk. Quite a few were already paired up, but quite a few were not.

I have low standards, but to my eyes every one of the girls in the bar looked pretty. Most also looked sexually available. Not necessarily from the way they dressed, although there was certainly that aspect, but from the way they moved, and the looks in their eyes. I always think that the sexiest part of the body, man or woman, is the eyes. Broadcasting sexual availability in the eyes is the best way to get laid. I knew how to do that; it came naturally to me. It also did not hurt that my boobs were on display.

Indeed, pretty, drunk, unattached girls were in heavy supply that evening. I was sure I would lose to Luke. Also a lot of the men would prefer the young tarts to a 27-year-old professional woman. But I would have fun trying. What I did not realize was the effect exposing my breasts in a tantalizing way would have.

Luke said, "Okay, I'm game. But he has to kiss you. You cannot kiss him first, or ask for a kiss; that's cheating. And we need a prize. How about whoever wins, we bring him or her home for a threesome? Assuming the victim is willing, of course."

I knew Luke had wanted a threesome for some time, but I had always said no. With this game he was likely to get one. It was not a priori obvious to me at least, that whoever we picked up would be up for sex, let alone a threesome. I was naïve.

I was wrong about everything. Once men realized I was single, they were all over me. I was a mature twenty-seven years old professional, not one of the early twenties bubblehead secretaries. I was a bigger catch. My breasts got them interested in me, and they stayed around hoping they could seduce me.

For what it's worth, and self-description is hard for me, I have a pretty face and a nice body. My body has been around the block a few times, actually quite a few times, between the ages 18 and 22, but since then not that much. Looking back, it seems like my body back then was running around the block continuously in a sexual marathon. Still, the upshot is that I know my way around a man, better than most women ever do, their entire lives.

I was enjoying it and felt no need to rush things. The men did though, and before long I was being kissed. What happened was one of these guys, Zeke, asked me to dance, and while we danced he began to fondle my boobs. He was cute and he wasn't a banker, so I let him. Next thing I know he had unbuttoned my blouse completely and was exposing my boobs to anyone who could see me in the crowd.

When I let him do that, too, he began to kiss me. It was a good kiss, a sweet kiss, and an open mouth, sexy kiss.

Then a friend of his, named Elijah, cut in, and immediately began also to fondle my boobs, since they were on display, and he too kissed me. I moaned a soft "hmmm" and Elijah stuck his hand under my skirt, right there on the dance floor. This made me very nervous but I did not stop him, I just leaned in closer.

His hand soon found my pussy, and Elijah realized I was commando. He got a big smile. My skirt was a short straight skirt, and it hugged my ass, giving a sexy effect, not that anyone cared at this point. But he began to start pushing it up slowly, and I realized he wanted to expose my private region to the dance floor, too.

This was too much, too fast, and I pulled away from him right into the arms of Zeke. I said "Excuse me, boys, I'll be right back." I had enjoyed the kisses it a lot, but I wanted to let Luke know I had won. I found him kissing one of the drunken bubbleheads, named Mary. We decided it was a tie, and we should bring all three of them home, if they were willing. They were.

Before we left the 5 of us hung out together, and when Luke kissed me, Zeke and Elijah put the moves on Mary, who gave them no resistance at all. When they tried to undress her however, right there on the dance floor, she resisted and got upset. Elijah pointed at my blouse, and she saw that my entire boobs, nipples too, were visible under my now almost completely open blouse.

After that, Mary let Elijah and Zeke take her blouse off, and she was dancing only in her bra. Her bra was lace, and you could see her nipples through the fabric. During a slow dance, Zeke put his hand under her bra and cupped her breast. She giggled and ground a little into his cock.

Meanwhile I had gone back to Elijah and was dancing with him, and Luke was left alone. That's not healthy, and soon enough he had bubblehead number two in his arms. He began to kiss her, and inspired by Mary and me, after some prolonged resistance she let him unbutton her blouse all the way.

Her name was Samantha, and she went by Sam. Her bra was a standard white bra, nothing sexy or revealing. But the context of her reluctance and finally giving in to Luke was symbolic of surrender to him, and I found the whole situation sexy.

I left Zeke and successively picked up two more guys. Probably because my boobs were hanging out for all to see, picking up the two guys was like picking low hanging fruit. My two new ones were Andrew and David. After quite a bit more drinking, the eight of us, five men and three women, were headed back to The Chateau. I was a little nervous about what would happen there.

I felt sure it would have been better to have three men and three women. The bubbleheads however were feeling no pain. I'm not even sure they were aware of the imbalance between men and women.

Everyone was drunk, so we left our cars in Southampton and took Uber to the Chateau. We'd return to get our cars tomorrow. We were in three Uber cars, since there were 8 of us, and the drive takes some time. In my car, I was in the back seat with Zeke on one side, and Elijah on the other.

Zeke began to kiss me. I broke the kiss and asked the driver if he minded. He had already been checking out my boobs, and he said, "Not at all, miss. Mi coche es su coche," or something like that. So I let Zeke kiss me.

I thought this was fairly harmless, but of course Zeke began to fondle my boobs. They were already on display, after all. Elijah was watching this going on. Not content only to watch, he stuck his hand under my skirt. He knew now that I was without panties. I tried to say no, but Zeke was holding my head, pushing my face into his, and I could not get away from the kiss to say no.

I grabbed Elijah's wrist, the one attached to his hand now under my skirt, and I slapped it. Elijah smiled and slapped my bare thigh. That of course is not what I meant, but damn it, it felt good. Seeing my reaction he slapped it again. I was so aroused now I began to squirm.

Zeke saw what was going on and broke the kiss. The two men lay me down with my head in Zeke's lap and my ass between them. I'm so short I could lie down flat in the back seat of this large Uber car. I thought Zeke was going to unzip and want me to blow him, right there in the car. I did not want to do that, I was no longer a drunk 20 year old, and I was not looking forward to saying no.

But I was wrong. Instead in one quick coordinated move, Zeke lifted my prone body an inch or so off the seat and Elijah pushed my skirt up to my waist, exposing my bare ass and my cunt. I was horrified and turned on at the same time.

Before I could protest or try to push my skirt back down, Elijah slapped my ass. He slapped hard, and I cried out. I stopped trying to push down my skirt: it was too erotic. My cry was not one of pain or protest, but one of eros. Zeke took over the slapping, which was hard and relentless, while Elijah began to finger me roughly. I was already sopping wet, so it turned out not to be that rough.

It also turns out (and I didn't know this until then) that being spanked was a huge turn on for me. I had been spanked once during my wild times, but nothing like this. I could not see my ass, of course, since my face was buried in the crotch of Zeke's pants, but Elijah told me later that my ass became beet red. Elijah found my clit, and I had a noisy orgasm.

The driver had been watching all this in his rear view mirror it turns out, and at one point he pulled over. He turned around and said, "The ride is free boys if you will let me fuck her."

Now I was offended. Did he really think I would fuck someone for money? And even if he did, the price of the Uber ride was small - he was implying I was a two-bit whore. I sat up, pushed down my skirt, buttoned up my blouse, and said, "I think it's best if you just drive us to the destination, please."

He shrugged, got back into the driver's seat, and I did not let the men do anything to me, not even kiss me, for the rest of the ride home. I kind of understood, however. I was not giving a great impression letting two men treat me that way, and exposing myself, in his car. What was he supposed to think? But still, I was furious. It certainly did kill the mood.

One problem was that I was still turned on and wanted more. Both men had tents in their pants. The driver did too, I noticed, when he asked to fuck me. I knew I was in for some sexually heavy times at The Chateau.

We were the last of the three to arrive. As we left the car to walk up to the house, I heard the music Luke had already put on the sound system. All the lights were on, and the blinds were up, so we could see into the house, and so could anyone else who happened by.

The music had a nice beat. We entered and saw Luke sitting and sipping a cocktail, while Andrew and David were dancing with Mary and Samantha. Excuse me, Mary and Sam.

Sam was already naked above the waist, and her tight pants were still on, but they were unzipped. Mary was dancing in just her panties. All three men were fully clothed. The girls were dancing with drinks in their hands, occasionally spilling them as they moved and were groped. Most of the time they were giggling. Sam would reach over from time to time and give Andrew a sloppy kiss, then dance away from him, giggling.

A slow song came on, and the men pulled the two girls close to them. As they danced and ground their pelvises together, David pushed down Mary's panties, and she stepped out of them, kissing him while she did so. As if inspired by this, Andrew peeled off Sam's tight pants, taking her panties off with them. Now both girls were dancing naked. Everyone applauded them.

That left me, fully clothed. Zeke and Elijah looked at me hungrily. I looked at them and shrugged. They pulled me up from the couch where I sat next to Luke, and removed my blouse. I was now topless. Quick as a bunny they also removed my skirt, and I was now naked, like the other two girls.

Luke left to get his camera. He posed the three of us naked, me, Mary, and Samantha in a line facing him, and he snapped away. He wanted some "sexy pictures," so I stuck a finger in Mary, and she stuck a finger in Sam. Sam had nobody to stick a finger in, since we were lined up and my cunt was too far away, so she stuck a finger into Mary's asshole. Mary jumped when Sam's finger entered her ass; she had not been expecting it. This caused cheers among the men. Luke snapped away.