Amy on Loan - Cover

Amy on Loan

Copyright© 2005 by Amy Allison

Chapter 5

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5 - After sharing with his best friend all his life, my husband wanted me to be next.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Reluctant   Heterosexual   Cheating   Group Sex   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Voyeurism   Size   Slow  

It seemed to be the routine that after something happened between Adam and I, he seemed to avoid me for a while. I'm not saying that I was disappointed about it as I always, without fail, went through an internal turmoil about my actions. At least I held myself accountable for some of it and didn't blame it entirely on them.

And through all that was happening to us sexually, we still had a life outside of the sex and I still had a family to care for. Without him saying much, I thought something was going on with Craig's job. On a Monday, he offered me an invitation "which I was not to refuse" to have lunch with him and others. I knew that the company president and CEO was in town but had no idea why. I tried real hard to dress carefully.

I didn't want to overdress but didn't want to look like somebody's sister, either. It was cold and brisk, so I wore a dressy pair of jeans but with a sheer low cut white blouse with a tiny bra that showed me quite well. Craig seemed pleased when we met.

I had never met Ross before but reputation had him as a very clever business head that was very liberal to favorite employees and all favorite employees were those who have showed that they can get the job done right and are absolute team players. That favoritism went beyond the employee, evidently, with the spouse as the recipient of his generosity.

Free trips with him as he traveled and things like that were pretty common rewards. Rumor had it that on those business trips he has a penchant of entertaining wives very well to avoid them getting bored while the husband had to work. He was really a nice man.

He was from Texas and when I met him it was the very definition of him. I heard he was tall. He wasn't tall: he was HUGE! He was about six and a half feet tall and must weigh over 240 pounds. And he dressed the part, wearing an expensive suit over absolutely beautiful cowboy boots. I'm guessing he was in his mid fifties, but the only thing that gave it away is there is just a tinge of gray around the edge of his hair.

I had no idea why I was there. Craig had kept it very close to himself. When I started talking to Ross, he let it out. You could have knocked me over with a feather.

The company was opening a new operation in Texas and Craig was one of four people being evaluated to become the manager there. The other three were from other operations around the country.

"I fully expect the new management to be a 'team' family and support me fully," he had whispered to me through the meal. I'm not too sure where he was going with that. I heard stories about his lifestyle, but there are always stories any place you work.

He paid me a lot of attention, especially down the front of my blouse. But then again, he paid everybody a lot of attention. Even the waitress was red faced when he treated her like she was the most important person in the room.

It's just the way he said some things, not so much what he said. It did two things. It made my hair stand up a little on my neck. And even though I had no particular attraction and certainly no intentions, it also caused a light brushing of sensations between my legs. The man was such a mature HUNK!! Craig had to walk away from the table for a few minutes and Ross's unabashed attention to my breast was obvious. He touched my hand a couple of times during that time to reinforce what he was saying and it was almost burning.

That Craig wanted the job was unquestionable. He almost trembled when he talked about it. No telling if the opportunity would ever arise again and there was certainly no guarantee that he would get it in the first place.

I had mixed emotions about it. Most of our family is right here. But, the pay increase was almost vulgar and the price of housing was so much more inexpensive down there. We could almost pay cash for a replacement home there after we sold ours. And evidently there would be times when we could come back up here on company business with them paying for the trip.

And the support Craig expected from me was a bit overwhelming. It's not like I could just dismiss it and just let the cards fall where they may. The competition was very strong and Ross made it a point to let me know that when he selects his candidates he considers "everything."

Our company Christmas party was on the Saturday night about ten days before Christmas. Craig invited Ross and we were all surprised to hear that he accepted. I'm sure he can go anyplace he wants to at any time.

The days after the lunch I began to rethink what I was to wear to the party. With all the special attention I was getting lately and the almost nightly probing that Craig gave me concerning my interest and attraction to other men, it seemed that everything I did took on some sort of sexual relevance. I had planned on wearing nice slacks and a Christmas top but I began to think (and at Craig's hint) that I would have to go well past that.

I dumped the slacks for a black knee length skirt that split high up the right side. I knew that when I walked it showed leg about mid thigh and I was concerned about what it would show when I danced. But Craig liked it and moved me towards wearing a black thong and a tiny garter belt that held up some really sheer skin colored stockings making it appear that I had none on. I may have felt a little uncomfortable with it but it sure made me feel sexy.

I was a little surprised when Craig told me that we were going to give Ross a ride to and from his hotel, which was about 45 minutes away. When we picked him up, he was casually dressed and very sweet, complimenting me on my attire and insisting on riding in the back seat. I guess the woman in me couldn't help but wonder how much the jacket he was wearing cost. Our conversation going to the party was casual and entertaining and it was if I were talking to my father.

The party was held in a small private meeting room of a local hotel. They had a real nice buffet and an open bar. It was obvious that the company went over and beyond its normal party due to Ross being present. The open bar was an example even though most were very careful about drinking much with him around.

Most of the lights were on during the feeding frenzy, but once it was cleared they turned down the lights and had a DJ that sort of hosted the party. He was really good and kept it moving with all kinds of music, some of it really funny in order to keep everybody involved. It was really nice.

Ross's attitude at the event was no surprise. He paid attention to everybody, whether employee or invited guest, and charmed everybody in the room. Even though he avoided too much personal contact with the ladies on the dance floor, when the DJ played an old 40's type big band fast song Ross chose an older lady in the company who is a ballroom dancer and the two of them did un unbelievable jitter bug type dance on the floor by themselves. It was very impressive, especially considering his size.

That was his appearance to everybody there.

Except me.

I didn't get the bums rush from him by any means but about an hour into the occasion he started isolating on me as much as possible. I knew that this party was important to Craig and our family, but he almost shoved me at him. I think it was obvious to him that Ross was not in the mood for "business talk" but rather there for relaxation and entertainment. And he definitely found me entertaining.

At first, it was his arm lightly around my waist. Then it moved to my hip whenever we were the least bit out of open view. From there it moved to him casually brushing the outside of my breast and gently cupping my ass in his big hand. The two times I allowed him to talk me into a slow dance his big body and hands seemed to devour me.

But the worst was near the end of the party. For about thirty minutes, Craig narrated a little slide show about the company and the local employees. Reading a script, he also covered the new facility being built in Texas.

Even though I was doing my best to move around to avoid Ross, what a "surprise" when he sat down next to me in the back of the room. We weren't by ourselves by any means as there were two other people sitting there. It made me uncomfortable, but I certainly couldn't just get up and move without insulting him.

That's when the touching really started and softly whispered comments I wasn't too sure how to take.

"I'll bet old Craig gets a big "ho, ho, ho" when he's with you."

"I know old Santa sure would like to "come" down your chimney."

"You know, even with people around, I find it harder and harder talking to you."

Not to mention numerous comments concerning my figure and what I was wearing. He made several suggestive comments concerning possibilities of what I might be wearing under my clothes. The fact that he was dead on correct was a little too uncanny. It was certainly one of the comments that shook me the most.

Several minutes into it, I had to gently push his hand off my leg. The split in my skirt was baring a lot as I sat and I had to keep adjusting it to cover high enough to keep from exposing the bare skin above my stocking top.

When it was all done he had been persistent enough that, with me being unable to walk away without making a scene, he was casually rubbing my thigh with his open hand. Even though he stayed outside my skirt, his hands had gone high enough on my legs that he found and toyed with my garter belt.

I was petrified with fear yet trembling with anticipation. I don't know what was affecting me the most: the touch of his uninvited hand or the fear of being exposed. Whatever it was, I was breathing so hard and my heart beating so fast that everything was clouded out, including my husband's presentation and the people around me.

Then, he just stopped. He never tried to touch me under my dress or anything. I wondered at the moment what I would have done if he had. Was he testing me in some way?

When it all broke up a little later, he leaned over and whispered to me, "I think you might be a team player that can take us a long way!"

"Thank you. I hope we're all team players here, Ross."

I had no idea how to actually take it, but it all became even worse when Craig came over very excited and told me that Ross had told him that he saw some "exciting possibilities" that they might discuss before he planned a trip back in early January to "further explore those possibilities and opportunities."

What was I to say?

"Sweetheart, the man has had his hands all over me tonight." That's what I wanted to tell him, but knew he didn't want to hear it. I dreaded the trip back to the hotel with Ross.

When we started to get in the car I again offered to sit in the back.

"You and Craig have so much to discuss. I can just melt away back there."

"No, I'll take the back. Besides, you would be the center of attraction no matter where you sat."

I thanked him for his comments while Craig almost gushed. As I sat in the front and placed my coat over my lap, I could swear that Craig had a hard on. Maybe I would get lucky and fall asleep.

There was no such luck. Ross was sitting right behind me and sat forward in his seat, placing his huge frame and head inches from mine as he talked to Craig. I expected it to be a boring conversation of which I had no interest. Instead I quickly became silently engrossed in everything they had to say. It was amazing all that went into the operation of the company.

It was about ten miles into the trip when I first felt the touch. It was innocent enough, just a slight rubbing on my neck. I didn't know whether I should pull away a little or not. I didn't want to antagonize him over something really harmless. And underneath those thoughts were the actual touch of his hands. Good grief they were huge!!

Their conversation moved on and so did his hands. From my neck he slid carefully and quite skillfully down my arm. I held my breath a little and let it go. But when his finger cleverly slipped around and started brushing the side of my breast, I twisted slowly away from him. It wasn't a big move but it carried a definite "NO!" with it. I was actually surprised and felt proud of myself when I felt his hands back up on top of the seat again.

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