She Strips To Conquer

"Come in please, Carol."

It was Carol's supervisor, David Jenkins who was speaking. He was sitting at his desk and didn't look up at her as she stood hesitantly in the doorway to his office. He continued to look at his computer screen which Carol couldn't see from where she was standing.

"Come in please Carol. And close the door behind you."

His voice was flat and neutral. She couldn't infer anything from his tone. Mr Jenkins wasn't really her supervisor, he was her supervisor's boss, the head of the department. The supervisor, Jeannie, was on vacation for two weeks and Mr Jenkins was having to assume her duties as well as his own. Carol closed the door behind her and took a step forward. He looked up at her finally. He's not bad looking, she thought. His hair's thinning a little but he seemed to keep himself fairly fit and trim. It wasn't as if she had the hots for him or anything, but she'd caught herself looking at him sometimes and wondering what he might look like naked. Carol's husband Jim had told her that a way not to feel intimidated by someone in authority is to imagine them naked. The only trouble was, once she started doing that, she began to imagine them REALLY naked, thanks to her overactive libido.

One evening, after a couple of glasses of wine, Carol had told her hubby about that little problem. "If it's a woman I'm imagining naked," she'd said, "I start to picture her pussy. Is it a bush? Is it shaved? And if it's a guy, then I find myself "seeing" his penis. Is it thick or long? What does it look like erect?" She'd been surprised that this confession had aroused her husband and they'd made love, urgently, on the sofa without even waiting until they went to bed. So, yes, a couple of times shed watched Mr Jenkins walking through the office and she'd pictured him naked. But not now, standing on the fake oriental carpet in front of his desk. She felt a twinge of nervousness, like a schoolgirl in the headmaster's office, although she was sure she hadn't done anything wrong.

Unless of course he was a mind reader. It seemed Carol was almost always horny these days and Carol found herself fantasizing about having sex with her husband in every way imaginable. Some days, she'd get really wet and would race home to rip his clothes off and insist that he fuck her hard and fast right on the living room floor. Sometimes, try as she might, she just couldn't wait until she got home. She would sneak into the ladies' rest room and find a stall at the end, listen to be sure she was alone, then pull her skirt up and lean against the cool partition wall. Pulling aside her panties, she'd dip a finger into her hot, wet pussy, then roll the moist fingertip over her turgid clitoris, making tiny rapid circles until she shuddered silently into the release of her climax.

"Carol," said Mr Jenkins, shaking her from her reverie, "I believe you borrowed the departmental

digital camera over the weekend. Is that correct?"

Oh, is that all it is, she thought. No problem.

"Yes. Jeannie lets me borrow it. I always sign it out. I returned it to her desk on Monday morning. I use my own memory card, not the company ones."

"And what do you use it for, Carol?"

Carol felt a twinge of uneasiness. "Uh, just to take pictures around the house, the yard, stuff like that."

"Stuff like that," he echoed drily.

Carol realized she'd stopped breathing. This wasn't going well.

"I have a suggestion for you, Carol," said Mr Jenkins softly, his eyes still fixed on his computer screen. "Come around to this side of the desk and I'll tell you."

Slowly, Carol moved around the desk, an icy grip on her stomach, as Mr Jenkins continued. "My suggestion, Carol is that you should always remove your card from the camera before you return it to the office."

By now, Carol was beside Mr Jenkins and she could see what was on his screen. Twelve small photographic images. All of them showing her. A lot of her. Mr Jenkins clicked on one image which immediately filled the screen. There, in full color, was Carol sitting on a low stool in her living room, legs spread wide, head thrown back in ecstacy. She was wearing only black stockings, high heels and sheer, lacy black panties through which her pussy was clearly visible. He clicked again, and now Carol saw herself in close-up with one hand inside her panties, fingers obviously probing her pussy.

"Stuff like that?" asked Mr Jenkins. Carol was speechless, rooted to the spot. "Of course, I shall have to give this to Human Resources. You'll be fired on the spot. No references. Such a pity." He shook his head sadly.

"No! Please, Mr Jenkins! Let me explain..."

"Oh, I think this explains everything. Certainly you'll be dismissed."

"Isn't there anything I can say, anything I can do...?"

There was a moment's silence. Mr Jenkins looked from Carol to her image on the screen. "Well, Carol, there might be. It's obvious that you have an extremely attractive body that you're proud of and that you like to show off."

"Only to my husband!" said Carol.

"And apparently to me," interjected Mr Jenkins, nodding at the screen. "And to anyone else to whom I show this file."

Carol held her breath as he continued. "I think we might be able to forget about this little incident if you will help me take care of a... ah, situation." Carol said nothing. "Tonight I am entertaining four foreign buyers at a hotel suite. Their business is very important to this company, and to me, too. They expect more than just food and drink. They want a little... shall we say titillation? And you, my dear Carol, will be it."

"I... I couldn't..." she stammered.

"Of course you could and you will, unless you wish to be instantly dismissed. How will you explain that to your dear husband?"

Carol blushed and bit her lip. After all, it was just one evening. She imagined they'd be four fat, sweaty balding businessmen, eager to see some naked female flesh. And she'd be able to keep her job and get her pictures back.

"All you'll need to do is put on a show, like you do for these photos, particularly this kind." Mr Jenkins tapped the screen on an image showing Carol with both hands in her panties. "Now as for what you'll wear..." He reached across from his chair to Carol who was still standing beside him. He pulled up her skirt. Carol suddenly remembered that she was wearing the same black stockings, garter belt and sheer panties that she'd worn in the last photo session. She'd planned to surprise her husband that evening by taking off her skirt and blouse in the garage and walking in on him wearing only her sexy undies. "Oh, perfect!" said Mr Jenkins. He gave he a slip of paper. "Be at this address at six o'clock sharp. Well, off you go."

***

Carol sat in her car in the underground parking garage beneath the hotel. She'd called Jim to say she'd be working late... a big new account... don't wait up. Her hands were shaking and there were butterflies in her stomach. But still... Somehow there was a frisson of excitement. It was daring, an adventure, and Carol liked a challenge. She checked her make-up in the rear-view mirror and sprayed a little cologne on her neck just above her breasts. It was show time.

She got into the elevator and punched in the code that Mr Jenkins had given her for the penthouse level. The walls of the elevator car were mirrored and she checked her reflection appraisingly. Dark gray business suit with the skirt's hem just above her knees, white silk blouse. Her legs were beautifully shaped, she had to admit, and they were emphasized by the black stockings and three-inch black patent leather heels. She drew her shoulders back and noted the way her firm breasts thrust enticingly against the conservative jacket above her trim waist. Not bad, she thought. Not bad at all...

The elevator stopped at the penthouse and she stepped out. The double doors facing her opened at once and Mr Jenkins stood there in an open necked sports shirt and slacks. "Right on time. Come on in," he said with a smile. Carol walked past him with a swish of nylons and felt his eyes roving over her as she put her small Gucci handbag on an elegant hall table.

He put his hand on her arm and spoke to her softly. "You don't have to socialize with them, You don't even have to say anything. They're expecting you. You're the floor show. Just go in there and give them a good show while you take your clothes off. And Carol. Remember that they expect to see you playing with yourself, like you do in the pictures."

"Oh my god..." whispered Carol.

"Just tell yourself you're posing for photos. You can do it. You can't change your mind now. Go in there. You're on!" He propelled her through another set of double doors. "Gentlemen! Miss Carol!"

Carol paused to take in her surroundings. There was a small circular riser in the middle of the room. It was about six feet in diameter and two feet high. It was covered in carpet and was probably used by the hotel during trade exhibitions. There were four spotlights, one in each corner of the room focusing a warm light on the round stage through tinted filters. A sultry bossa nova was playing from a stereo. As her eyes became accustomed to the dim light around the stage area, she became aware of four men seated in a semi-circle. She was pleasantly surprised to see that they weren't the fat, balding types she's envisaged. All were tall, athletically built and blond. German or Eastern European, she guessed. They were all wearing open-neck shirts and slacks. There was a hush of expectancy in the room as Carol felt all of the men gazing at her approvingly.

Suddenly, she felt a rush of something she couldn't exactly pinpoint. A self-confidence she had never felt before; a realization that she, Carol, was the center of their attention, the object of their desire. It was an exhilarating feeling of power. In a few minutes, merely by taking off her clothes and caressing her body, she would awaken in these four grown men, simultaneously, a desire to penetrate her with their stiff, erect cocks, taking her one after another, each impatient for his turn to impale her. But frustrated, knowing they could only watch, consumed by lust for what they couldn't have.

She stepped up onto the riser and stood motionless, looking at the four silent men surrounding her. She savored the moment, reveling in the knowledge that she had total dominance over their every thought and breath, even over the flow of blood to their loins.

She began to move gently to the rhythm of the sultry music. She swayed her hips then began to move her feet in time with the beat. She felt the heat from the lights warming her as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back. The aroma of her cologne, intensified by the warmth of her breasts became more perceptible now and she inhaled it as if it were an aphrodisiac.

Still swaying gently, she brought her hands to the front of her jacket and undid the three buttons, pausing between each one. Slowly, she shrugged her shoulders free of the jacket and continued with her sensuous shuffling dance steps as she let the silk-lined dark grey material slide down her upper arms until it caught at her elbows. After a few more seconds, she straightened her arms and let the jacket slither gradually to the floor behind her. Carol smiled inwardly. She had the men enthralled. And all she had done was remove her jacket!

She was vaguely aware of Mr Jenkins discretely removing the jacket from the stage behind her as she began to unbutton the crisp, white silk blouse. Through half-closed eyes she looked at the four men on the edge of her circle of light. All were sitting with their legs open, growing bulges evident in the straining front of each pair of trousers. One man was languidly stroking his groin as his eyes drank in every newly-revealed inch of Carol's cleavage. With the last button undone, she began to pull the white silk up and out of the waistband of her skirt. She pulled up just a little at a time; an inch here, an inch there, keeping the unbuttoned front almost closed allowing only a glimpse of the treasure hidden inside. Increasing the movement of her hips to rhythm of the music, Carol opened the blouse fully, letting it slither down her arms behind her. She drew her shoulders back and breathed deeply in and out, knowing how this made her full breasts rise and fall temptingly in the cups of her lacy black brassiere.

She could see that her audience was obviously impressed. In the gloom, all four men were stroking their crotches through their trousers. One man had unzipped his slacks and slipped his hand inside to fondle his cock as he watched Carol's breasts shuddering in her bra.

Carol leaned forward and saw their eyes move from her breasts to her legs as she bunched the material of her skirt in her hands and began to inch it up from her knees. But she was teasing them. With only a few inches of her thighs revealed, she let the material fall back. Still swaying erotically, Carol turned her back on the men and reached behind her to smooth the material of her skirt over her firm buttocks. Reaching to her side, she unbuttoned the skirt at the waistband and slowly, slowly began sliding the zipper down.

Still with her back to the audience, she let go of the skirt. Lifting her arms up, she brought her hands together clasping them at the nape of her neck. She rotated her hips, lifting first one heel then the other to the beat. She felt the skirt begin to sag, catching for a long moment on her hip as it snagged her garter belt. Then it was free, slipping down her legs until it formed an inverted halo around her feet. She kicked the skirt away and saw Jenkins' hand reach out to retrieve it.

She turned around sensuously to face her audience, in quarter-turns with little cha-cha steps. Her hands were still clasped behind her head so the men could drink in the sight of her superb body as it undulated provocatively. She knew that this was how Jim most liked to see her... even more than naked sometimes... wearing her lacy black bra and panties, the taut straps of her garter belt stretching tight the sheer black seamed stockings, the high heels emphasizing the liquid movement of the firm muscles of her pin-up perfect legs.

Apparently Jim was not the only one who liked to see her this way. Carol saw that all four men had released their straining pricks from their trousers and were stroking themselves, aroused by the sight of her beautiful body. For a moment, Carol fantasized that it wasn't four men but four hundred; no... no four thousand men, all jacking their cocks, unable to control their lust as they watched her strip.

She reached behind her and unhooked the bra. She leaned forward letting the shoulder straps fall, but cradled in her hands the lacy cups still covering her breasts. Slowly, she let the bra fall to the floor, teasing the men with her hands still clasped lightly over her breasts. With a fluid motion she knelt on the very edge of the small stage facing the men. Dancing languorously on her knees, Carol opened her palms, revealing her nipples for the first time. She jiggled her breasts on her open palms for a few moments in time to the music, before gripping each nipple firmly between a thumb and forefinger.

All four men were standing now. They had all dropped their trousers and moved closer to the edge of the little round stage. Four healthy young cocks were now pointing at her, all with white bubbles of pre-cum forming on their bulbous purple heads. All were uniformly long and thick with throbbing veins as their owners stropped them with long, lean fingers.

Carol rolled and tweaked her nipples that felt fuller, harder than she could ever remember. Her breasts were particularly sensitive; it seemed that she had an erogenous short circuit from her teats to her clit. The bolt of sexual lightning flashed through her from her nipples and she felt a flood of moisture that must have been visible through the thin gauze of her panties, stretched tight across her pussy lips between her widely splayed thighs.

She leaned back on her haunches, arching her back until her head touched stage behind her. One hand was still caressing a nipple while the other was sliding over the slick black lace barely concealing her vagina. She felt a trickle of moisture run down her rib cage and became aware that her body was glowing with beads of perspiration from the heat of the lights and her own sexual energy.

She felt shadows fall across her and looked up to see that the four men were now kneeling on the stage, two on each side of her, all completely naked. She could see their large heavy balls jiggling in unison as they masturbated their thick, meaty cocks. Time to give them a real show, thought Carol.

Lifting her buns from her haunches, she slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and began to slide them down her strong thighs, until the flimsy lace had reached her stocking tops. Still on her back but changing her position slightly, she languidly brought her knees up to her chest so she could remove the sodden whisper of black lace. She dropped her undies into the hand of one of the men who immediately pressed the warm, moist panties to his face, inhaling her intoxicating musk. Carol stretched her shapely legs out in front of her then raised them, spreading them as far apart as she could until her shiny black leather high heels were almost touching the shoulders of a man on either side of her. She knew they could plainly see the neatly trimmed hair that pointed down to her glistening vulva.

The music had increased in tempo now. It had a Cuban beat, sounding almost voodoo-like in its intensity. Carol lowered her legs, bending her knees, hooking her heels on the very edge of the stage. The men leaned in closer over her body. Her upper arms pressed together her full, ripe breasts, covered with a sheen of moisture. She could smell her own perspiration, mixed with her cologne and the sweat and after-shave of the muscular naked men surrounding her. But the pervading aroma was her own sexual musk, wafting from her pulsing vagina like heady, erotic incense. The perfect creamy texture of her breasts contrasted deliciously with the rose-pink of her engorged nipples that trembled with every ragged breath.

With the forefinger and middle finger of her left hand she formed a "vee" over her pulsing vagina, peeling back the hood from her stiff red clitoris. She pressed first one, then two fingers of her right hand inside her pussy and could hear the wet sucking sound as the hot ridged inner walls of her cunt gripped her pistoning fingers. The men were all breathing heavily now, totally captivated by the erotic vision of her pale body writhing in ecstacy before them. She could see four hands stroking furiously on four throbbing cocks only inches from her face and knew they were all beyond the point of no return, but she was too close to her own release to care.

She pulled her fingers from her cunt and rubbed the thick warm nectar over her trembling clit. She frigged it mercilessly, circling the nubby love-button with urgent wet fingertips. She felt her orgasm rumbling in from deep within her. Her panting turned to gasps and then to a series of guttural screams as she climaxed in blinding waves.

Still shuddering with the aftershocks of her orgasm, she felt the men moving closer on their knees. She opened her eyes to see one of the men on her left throw back his head and cry out. The bulging head of his cock between his fingers erupted with a pop, sending a looping rope of hot come to land with a splash across both of Carol's breasts. Three more long, hard spurts followed before the remainder dribbled out over his hand. The man kneeling next to him was closer to Carol's head. With a gasp, he ejaculated a jet of white cream that splattered across her cheek and chin like hot white raindrops. Carol continued to frig her raw clit, a second climax blossoming under her urging fingers. She turned her head to look at the two men on her right. They came almost simultaneously, one blasting a series of short cum-bullets onto her face, the other ejaculating like a fire hose, coating her chest and belly with thick hot puddles of white semen. Carol screamed again through clenched teeth, thrashing her head from side to side until the orgasm subsided.