There's an author on Literotica.com who uses the pen name of "scorpi00155." I have gone back to his stories a number of times to read them. His story of "Getting The Contract" is one of my favorites. I have emailed him telling him so. I have offered to re-write the story for nothing other than my own amusement. I believe I stated that I was willing to let him use it as a variation to his own.
As near as I know, he has not responded. His story is still posted under his name and the same title. If anybody objects to my rewriting and posting this, I will remove it. I have changed some of the names and changed some of the descriptions. Please read his to see the difference.
His story (in my mind) has a lot of "run-on sentences." I am 70 and don't see clearly, but there are many sentences that have commas where there should be a period and the next word capitalized. I don't know why my program didn't catch them on spell check. I have not gone through and painfully weeded through all of it like I should.
People looking at Anna and Mark Menendez nowadays see them as a successful couple; both in their relationship and business life. Married for ten years they have managed to grow ever closer in that time. To Mark, Anna is more beautiful at forty than she was at twenty when they married. Despite the years her figure is as firm as in her youth. Her red hair had no hint of grey, and her eyes still sparkle with mirth and innocence. Mark, her husband is more distinguished over the years.
Together they have built up a successful supply business. Mark had been interested from the time he was a teenager with Café Racers. He would take a 1979 Suzuki 459 GS and customize it. He developed custom handle bars. He had developed a single unit that replaced the gas tank, seat and rear fender so that it was all one piece. A standard Suzuki could have those pieces removed and replaced with Mark's custom piece.
The tail section had built in cameras that replaced the mirrors with rear; right side and left side cameras. The cameras, instrument gauges were all gone. He had combined them with the new Google Glasses. Within the helmet, he could use visual commands to read gas, oil pressure, water temperature, tach readings, speed and all the rear camera information.
The tank assembly, helmet and goggles were all programmed. The kit included POD filters for the carburetors and revised jetting for as well. The whole unit was a bolt-on assembly that saved much time, effort and money for somebody trying to convert a motorcycle into the Café Racer look.
It would all be sold on the internet.
Started five years ago, Mark had gambled most of his retirement fund for the software, patents and machine work for mass assembly. They were close to being the successful couple with nary a care in the world. The thinking had been done. Everything was in place.
Jim Wellswood had a massive website organization. Whenever somebody clicked on a combination of words like: "POD Air Filters; Café Racer; Rejetting Carburetors, etc." he was paid a few pennies for each click. He was constantly making deals with distributors to be on his website.
Mark had met Anna when she was a teenager. She had started working after school and early in the morning at the Café at the Sale Barn. People came from quite a distance to buy or sell livestock. They all needed a close place to eat. With the regular employment of Anna, the place became much more than a sale barn that was open on Thursdays during the sale.
Anna seemed to have certain magnetism with men. She had an outgoing personality and was real "easy on the eyes." Not only did the Café do well, so did the sale barn. Once she was out of school, she worked there full time.
The sale barn started attracting business from farther and farther away.
Things had gone well to start with, while Mark handled the sales and distribution side of the business Anna had done the bookkeeping. They had worked long hours, but it had seemed worth it as they watched their business grow and prosper. And then came the recession, suddenly clients were ordering less and taking longer to pay for their orders, some went out of business completely leaving many creditors scrambling for a share of whatever they could get. In the space of a few months they were almost bankrupt, everything was mortgaged to keep the business running and the bank was starting to breathe down their necks as they saw the recession continuing. Late one evening they were in the office going over the books trying to find ways to cut back or get payments that were owed.
"It's no good Mark," Anna sighed, "if we don't get a break soon we'll lose everything."
"All we can do is pray we get the Wellswood contract." he sighed back.
"Do you think we're in the running?" she asked.
"I don't know," he answered slowly, "I really don't know."
"Didn't Wellswood say anything when you met him yesterday?" she asked.
"Only that our quote was under review." he answered "Maybe he'll say more at the party tonight."
"Mark," Anna frowned, "I'm puzzled. Why did Wellswood invite us tonight? Why us and none of the others that have quoted for his contract?"
"I don't know Anna," he shrugged, "and I'm as puzzled as you about that, but we have to go to the party if only to keep Wellswood sweet."
"I know." Anna sighed deeply, "Only I don't like the man, there's something ... slimy about him."
"I don't like him any more than you do," Mark sighed back, "but we need his contract. Without it we'll go under."
"I know, I know." Anna frowned, "And if we get the Wellswood contract it will give us an in with the Carillon group. I just..."
"Just what?" Mark asked as Anna fell silent.
She shook her head then smiled, but though her lips were smiling her eyes were troubled.
"It's just me being silly," Anna finally responded, "I just have a feeling about tonight."
"Feeling?" he asked feeling confused.
"Forget it Mark," she laughed, "Even I don't know what I mean by it. Come on, we'd better go get ready if we are going to be at his place by eight."
On that note they left the office and home, but Anna's comments had started a nagging doubt in Mark's mind about the night ahead. When Wellswood had made the invitation to a party at his home Mark had jumped at the opportunity it presented without hesitation. It was only now, after Anna had voiced her doubts that Mark began to wonder about the invitation. As he dressed he tried to figure out what Anna had meant by having a 'feeling' about the night ahead.
"Come on slow coach," Anna suddenly broke in. "Being late won't make a good impression."
"I guess not." he grinned turning to face his beautiful wife.
His grin spread from ear to ear when he saw her. It was clear that Anna had decided to go all out to charm their host. She had picked out her sexiest evening dress; one she normally only wore at home. It was a dark grey, floor-length button-front, and backless dress with a Décolletage that showed off most of her bust. The back was cut to revel almost all of her back clear down to the crack of her ass. There was so much exposed on her back that she couldn't wear a bra with it. The dress came was so long she had to wear her 6" high black high-heel boots. The boots were zippered up the side, and the tops stopped just below her knees.
The front was cut so low; her nipples were almost exposed at the top of the low, wide scoop.
She had been extremely reluctant to wear it when her husband had first bought it. After constant badgering for her to at least try it preceding intimate moments, he had gradually broken her down about it. Tonight she knew he wanted something special. Rather than run through the litany of being viewed as a prude, she had decided to give in ahead of time. Looking at her and knowing that she was wearing nothing more than stockings and a pair of thong panties under the dress gave him an instant erection.
He had watched her reluctantly fish her gray silk stockings out of her underwear drawer. They were the ones that went just below her crotch. The elastic lace tops kept them tight against her upper thighs. She wasn't too reluctant to wear them. Nobody was going to see them, and they excited the hell out of her husband; just knowing she had them on. Anna tried to look casual and mask some of the apprehension she had about dressing this way. She tried to make small talk with her husband as she sat in front of the vanity to comb her hair. She tried not to look at herself as she combed her hair. The thin silk material of her dress made it clear where her long-stem coral ink nipples were.
Anna had refused to look at herself in a full length mirror when she combed out her long red her hair. She liked her hair color, but had allowed her husband to talk her into putting blond highlights in it. The hairdresser knew what he was doing. Her hair looked mostly red, with the impression that the light just created blond highlights in it. Anna braided a thin strand of hair on each side of her face; just above her temples. She pulled them back and used an emerald green butterfly clip to join them at the back of her head to pull the rest of it back out of her face.
She tried not to look at how clearly her nipples were to escaping through or over the top of her almost sheer top. She had to keep her elbows down to keep her arms from raising her breasts too high. If she reached up to comb the back of her long, curly red hair, it could pop one of her nipples out over the top. She had to make a conscious effort to keep her arms down or, at least not up very high.
.... There is more of this story ...