Life had been good for Sharon Decooman, and Butch Ainsworth. Butch had started dating Sharon while still in high school. A week after graduation, Butch was hired by Failsafe Sprinkler. A year later, Sharon and Butch married. Now in his sixteenth year with Failsafe, he was a state-certified, master-sprinkler-installer. They had it all; a nice home, two cars, and a twenty-three foot boat. They had tried to have children, without success.
Butch's boss, Tony Tognelli, a tough, Italian guy, was like a father to Butch. Tony's wife, like Sharon, had kept her maiden name, Joan Conti. Joan, was the sexiest woman that Butch had ever known. Not that he saw her all that much. A long driveway, from the warehouse, separated the office, a converted, private home.
Most of the time, when Butch came to work at the warehouse, the assignment for the day would be typed, sitting on his desk. There were four crews. His crew, of three men, would already have the sprinkler hardware loaded into the truck. Off they would go. Often, he and his crew would talk about the fact that Failsafe was always busy. They wondered how Tony was able to bid for and get so many jobs?
Then the awful day came. Butch was using an old, wooden-ladder to paint his house. A rung broke, sending Butch tumbling backward, ten feet to the ground. He crushed two vertebras. The good news was that he was able to walk again, after six months. The bad news was he would never again be able to be a sprinkler-installer. Since it had happened off the job, Butch had no workman's compensation insurance. Their savings were about all used up.
The phone rang. Sharon answered it. "Hello?"
In his usual gruff manner, Tony Tognelli asked, "Is Butch there?"
"Yes, Tony, I'll get him for you."
She handed the phone to Butch. "Hi Tony."
"So, how is it going?"
"Oh, I'm doing pretty well. But, as I told you last week, the doctors have said that I will never be able to install again."
"Figured as much. Joan and I have been talking. We've made a lot of money. She and I agree that now might be a good time for us to sell Failsafe, and move south. We are considering buying a place in Florida. Would you and Sharon be interested in buying Failsafe?"
"Holy shit, Tony, are you serious? We would love to. But, you know, Tony, I don't have much of my savings left."
"No problem, Butch. If I take some of the paper, the bank will loan you the rest. Why don't you and Sharon hop in the car? We are at the office."
"Be right over."
When Butch and Sharon arrived at the office, Tony took them through a door into the rear of the house. Butch had never been in there. He knew that Tony had a wonderful home in Upper Montclair, a twenty-minute drive from his office in Newark. The rooms off the office were like walking into a wealthy men's club in Manhattan. There were two rooms. One had a wet bar, and several overstuffed chairs and sofas arranged so that several people could sit and talk. The other room was a bedroom, with an adjacent bathroom.
"Drink?" Tony asked.
"Gin and Tonic for both of us." Butch said, after looking at Sharon.
Joan said nothing. She sat with a smile on her face. She seemed to be looking mostly at Sharon.
Tony handed Butch last year's profit and loss statement. The owner's net income was $127,295.00. Then Butch checked the employee's pay list. Joan Conti's income was $72,734.00.
"How much are you asking for Failsafe, Tony?"
"How does six hundred thousand sound to you? That is just over three times the owner earnings. I will hold two hundred thousand of the paper, and the bank will loan you the other four hundred thousand. So, you will come in with no investment, not a penny. Of course, if the business goes bust, you will lose your home, everything, and I get the business back. Now, I should tell you that you would need for Sharon to work here just like Joan did to make enough to make the payments. That is for the first five years. Then when my loan is paid off, you will only have the bank loan, which is for fifteen years."
Butch shot Sharon a quick look. They were desparete. Sharon nodded yes. Butch turned to Tony. "We'll do it."
Three weeks later, on a Friday afternoon, in the Law office of Wendell Showater, the deal was finalized.
Just before they walked out, Joan asked Sharon what her e-mail address was. Then Joan asked, "Will you be home Saturday night, Sharon?"
"I will send you some information about ten PM. The information will be of interest to you both."
Saturday, exactly at ten, the e-mail arrived. It read: "Dear Sharon and Butch. Tony and I are now settled in our new place. Congratulations on buying a fine business. So that you will not be caught off guard on Monday, I thought that I should give you some suggestions. First, Sharon, Tony and I never told any of our customers that I was his wife. You should not either.
Next, Butch, I'm sure that you and the other installers have often wondered how Failsafe received so many job bids, when there are eight other sprinkler companies within twenty miles of Failsafe. The reason that we did is because the bids were rigged.
As you know, we are at the mercy of the general contractors. When we first started, we were struggling. Then, one day, John Palmer, of Palmer General Contractors, was in Tony's office discussing our bid, when he mentioned to Tony, "Jesus, Tony, you have a hot asistant. Loan her to me a couple nights a month, and I'll give you every sprinkler job that I get."
Most men would have set him straight that minute. Tony said nothing for a few moments. We had kids to feed. We also were supporting my mother. Finally, to John, he said; "You sit here a minute, I'll go tell her that you would be interested in taking her out for dinner."
Tony came out of the office and wiggled his finger at me to join him in the rear of the house, which we had not improved yet. I almost fell through the floor when he told me that John Palmer had the hots for me, and that Tony was willing for me to go to dinner with him. He did not tell me that John wanted me a couple nights a month
"Tony Tognelli, you know that man will want me to do more than have dinner with him?"
"Look, for just a few minutes of your time, we can make some real bread. John just told me that if I arrange for him to spend some time with you, that he will give us every job he gets. Joan, Baby, you will get a nice meal, get to flirt and play some, and spend a few hot moments in a bed. Remember, Joan, we have the kids and your mother to feed, and right now, I don't know where we will get the money to pay next months bills."
I stood looking at Tony for several moments. He didn't know it, but when the kids were young, and he was on the road a lot, before we owned Failsafe, I had three one-nighters with guys I picked up at a lounge next to the Ramada Inn. Having Tony know about me being in bed with another guy was something that I had never considered. Well, at the time, it seemed so easy, so simple. I said, "Okay. I hope that you know what you are doing, Tony Tognelli?"
John took me to the same lounge, next to the Ramada. We had a nice dinner, and then he got a room. When we walked in, he undressed me. My skirt was dropped to the floor. My blouse was unbuttoned and removed. He unhooked my bra, which was tossed onto a chair, and he removed my panties. I was still wearing my garter belt, hose, and heels. I stood with my eyes closed, trembling.
"Are you Tony's mistress?" He asked.
"No." It was the truth.
"Bet his wife worries about you working for him?"
"She has a lot of things to worry about."
"Tony ever come on to you?"
"Four or five times a month."
"Well, Babe, a nice Italian lady like you, with such a fine set of tits, must have a lot of guys come on to her?"
Sarcastically, I said, "Recently, no. You are the first guy who has asked Tony to set me up with him."
As he said all this, he was taking off his clothes. His cock was sticking straight out. I looked at it. This was the real thing. It was now neither easy nor simple. He was going to put that in me. God, Sharon, I wanted to pick up my clothes and run out of there, but I did not. I was shaking; sweat was forming on my brow. I turned red from embarrasment. He took me in his arms. His lips found mine. He kissed me, but I did not return his kiss. His hands foundled my breasts, which brought a gasp from my lips. His finger felt my cuntal bush, hunting for my entrance. I started to pant.
"You're new to this, Babe?"
I just looked at him, with sweat running off my body. His finger entered me. I closed my eyes. There was no escape now. He would have me. Gently, he lowered me to the bed. I opened my legs to accept him. He ate me for just a couple minutes, enough to get me wet, and then he took me. He stuck himself into me, like he owned me, which I guess, in a way, he did. A man that I hardly knew was on me, with his head next to mine, using me for his enjoyment.
There is no way that a man would understand the turmoil that I felt. My mind was saying that it would be over in just a few minutes. But, I was opening my legs more and more so that he completely filled me. When he got the rhythm, he would give his cock an extra thrust just as he hit my cervix. My box was on fire. I started to thrust up at him. We were now fucking each other. As my orgasm came on, I openned my mouth, panting. Then I tensed up and my pussy clamped down on his cock. He came in me, as I knew that he would. He took me again, ten minutes later.
Sharon, he returned me to our office at about ten PM. I went in. There was a note for me from Tony. "Joan, I don't want to know anything about what happened. I know that it was tough for you. But, we have to do, what we have to do. We have to make money. Love, Tony."
That was a terrible burden off me. I just didn't know what I would have told Tony. I was a fathful wife. Yet, I was fearful about telling Tony that I had two orgasms with John Palmer.
The next day, John Palmer called. I answered the phone. "Hi Joan. That was some evening we had, Babe. I'm looking forward to next time. Is Tony there?"
I bit my tongue about the "next time." I said into the intercom, "Tony, John Palmer is calling."
They talked. After Tony had hung up, I went into his office. He looked at me, as he said, "Palmer is faxing over to me the details on six jobs. We have them. He said that you were fine company, and are really built."
"Tony, he said to me, I'm looking forward to next time?"
"Right. He expects to see you twice a month."
"Tony Tognelli, you knew that last night, didn't you?"
"Have to admit it. Look, it will be just for a few minutes."
"It wasn't last night."
"Well, it will be after a few times, when he gets used to you."
"Tony, are you okay with this?"
"We need the money. It is as simple as that. You go smile at him, listen to his small talk, have a quick roll in the hay, and we rake in the bucks."
When I returned to my desk, I allowed a smile to cross my face. I was looking forward to seeing Mr. Palmer again.
What I did not know is that the General Contractors have an Association. Once a month they all meet for lunch. Joan Conti, of Failsafe, must have been a topic of conversation, because the next week, Brad Snyder, of Jersey General came into our office. After he had been with Tony for five minutes, Tony came out of his office. He said, "Brad has several jobs he is going to give Failsafe. He said that he wants to get to know you. He has a condo nearby that he wants you to see. I told him that I would not need you this afternoon."
As he said that Brad also walked out of the office. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you better, Joan."
I got beet red from embarrassment. But I knew what cards were being played, and I was the Queen of hearts. I looked this Brad Snyder in the eye. What kind of guy has the balls to walk into an office for the first time, expecting to have sex with the company secretary?
The same kind of man who has the jollies to put together a construction company. He was tough, tall, lean, with a deep tan, and piercing blue eyes. There was nothing to say. I got up, picked up my purse, and walked to the door, which Brad openned for me. I did not look back at Tony.
Brad's condo was sparsely furnished. He owns it, I expect, for one reason. "Drink?" He asked.
"Yes, a Manhattan, double. In fact, make it two."
"Need some courage?"
"Take off your clothes, while I make them."
Naked, I walked over to the bar. I drank both Manhattans down. Then, I walked into his bedroom. I sat on the bed. Without saying a word, he walked in, took off his clothes, and then turned to look at me as he slowly fondled his cock. Brad walked towards me until he was right in front of me. He took the back of my head and pulled it forward towards his shaft.
"I don't do that," I said.
"You do now. Open your mouth, Joan."
What was I to say? I was new at this having sex for money. At that moment, it dawned on me that I was now a prostitute. A very high priced one, but a prostitute, nonetheless. I opened my mouth. Brad told me how to please him. I did. Without warning, he came in my mouth. Men...
When he got hard again, he rolled me unto my back. His cock was bobbing between his legs. It seemed like slow motion as he knee-walked into position to lie on me. He lowered his chest to mine. Using both hands, he separated my pussy lips, and put himself into me, with one push. He had just come, so it took a long tine for him to explode a second time. During that time, my pussy betrayed me several times, forcing me to thrust my ass up to accept his descending cock, which felt so good.
Brad moaned as he cum. He whispered to me; "You are delightful."
By the end of the year, we had to hire the four crews that you are aware of, Butch. The business was coming in so fast, that we farmed out some of the jobs.
As for me, there were ten General Contractors, who met with me often. Twice, the Contractor that I was with was almost caught by someone that he knew. So there was much discussion between the Contractors and Tony. The next thing that I knew, the home part of the office was finished off, as you see it now. I was to entertain the men in there, so that their meetings with me would be very discrete.
My meetings became short. A contractor would stop by, wave at Tony, and wiggle a finger at me to join him in the house. You must have heard the term, Quickie? We had Quickies.
There is something else that I should mention. Occasionally a Contractor will take me with him on a trip. Sometimes, they would share me with their friends.
To this day, Tony has never asked what went on behind closed doors.
One other thing. In addition to the jobs that we get, the Contractors always leave a tip.
Butch and Sharon, the reason that I have told you all this is that we have contacted the Contractors. We have advised them of the sale of Failsafe. We told them that Butch was a trusted employee, that was aware of their arrangment with Failsafe, and that he had hired an assistant by the name of Sharon Decooman, who would be willing to entertain them as I did. We took the liberty, Sharon, of sending them the pictures of you, wearing a bathing suit, taken at last years company picnic. Several of the Contractors have phoned Tony to say goodbye. Each said that he enjoyed me, and was looking forward to being with you, Sharon.
Now, I know that you both are probably all worked up. But, you will get used to it, we did.
Sharon, relax and go with the flow. Butch, you should do what Tony did. Don't ask any questions about what goes on behind closed doors. Sincerely, Joan."
Butch and Sharon sat looking from the computer screen, not saying a word, like it was some fictious yarn that could not possible be true, yet each knew that it was true.
Butch typed a return e-mail to Joan. "How could you do this to us? This is a fraudulent sale. I will sue you both to have the sale set aside."
Joan responded. "Really? Butch, you have been employed by Failsafe for sixteen years. Who would believe that you did not know exactly what was going on? I think that you might have some trouble finding us to sue, since we ended up somewhere other than Florida.
As to how could we do this to you? We have done you a favor. You will support yourselves in grand style. Think about it? We sold you two businesses. Someday, you will thank us. In the meantime, Butch, get real. Your wife is going to entertain men three or four times a week. As Tony said, "It is only for a few minutes." Joan."
Butch turned to look at Sharon. Defeat was in his eyes. Sharon sat looking at her husband. Finally, she spoke. "What are we to do?"
"We either run the business and provide a woman for sex, or we go bankrupt, one or the other."
"Could we hire a prostitute to take Joan's place? Send Joan an e-mail and ask her if that would work?"
Joan answered. "The $72,734.00 income we show for me is what we reported to the IRS. What Sharon will receive in tips from the contractors will be $120,000. Each contractor will pay to her directly, a consulting fee of $10,000.00. If you give that up, you will not be able make your payments."
Butch turned to Sharon. "Could you try it? Maybe, it will be okay."
"I'll agree to try it if you agree to never ask me about what goes on when I am with them?"
"I'll do my best," was all he could say. There was so much more to say, but both knew that they faced bankruptcy if Sharon did not do as Joan had, which was to entertain the Contractors.
Sunday was a quiet day at their house. Butch left to go do some paperwork at the office. After he had left, Sharon took off her clothes. She studied herself in the full-length mirror. Men that she had never met were lusting to have sex with her, knowing that she would consent to allow them to use her as they wanted. They would see her naked. She and Butch only had sex using the missionary position. Strange men would lie on her, belly-to-belly, chest-to-chest. They would have complete control over her. She started to tremble, as her finger found it's way to her pussy. Soon, she was on her back, lying on the bed, her finger furiously sliding in and out of her drenched pussy. She was so scared, yet so turned on.
Both were unable to sleep well Sunday night. By five AM, both were up. Sharon was on her second cup of coffee. Joan had typed all the assignments for the crews, for Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, before she left. Sharon and Butch arrived at the office at seven AM.
Each time the phone rang, they both jumped. The calls turned out to be routine, so they started to relax when eleven o'clock came, and no one had showed up to see Sharon.
At ten before noon, a man walked in wearing a tan shirt, tan pants, and work boots. "Hi, I'm John Palmer. You must be Sharon?"
Stuttering, Sharon answered, "Yes, yes, I'm Sharon Decooman. Mr. Ainsworth is in his office."
"I know Butch. He installed sprinklers in several buildings that my company has built."
Sticking his head into Butch's office, John continued. "Hey, Butch, congratulations on buying Failsafe." Softer now, he said, "I don't know where you sprinkler guys find the talent. Your assistant is hot. Is it okay if I borrow her for a few minutes?"
Without looking up, Butch said, "Be my guest."
John said to Sharon, as he opened the door into the rear of the house, "Join me?"
It was the longest, short walk that Sharon had ever taken.
"You're more attractive than you appear in your pictures. I don't know what your Boss is paying you, but it isn't enough. How old are you?"