Chapter 25: Aches. Pam

To no one’s surprise, Jane woke up with a sore vagina late Sunday morning. Fran prepared a sitz bath for her, and got her relaxing in the tub. When she got out, Fran also had some lotion and internal female cream that soothed the area. Despite Jane’s desire to couple, she didn’t have sex with any of us.

I used part of Sunday to reestablish my love with Fran, Sheila, and Ally, making love with each of them one at a time. Jane initially thought it awkward knowing I was fucking someone in the bedroom while she and the others sat in the living room reading or doing other things, but as the afternoon went on, it became the new ‘normal’.

Before dinner, I took a walk with Jane down to Harvard and around the square. She had another bout of second thoughts about her slutty behavior. This time, to her surprise, I used a little reverse psychology and agreed with her.

I told her, “Jane, I agree. You are the sluttiest woman on the east coast. You fucked twenty-four men and a few women, and had a shitload of orgasms. You must be trying for an award of some kind – the sluttiest person on the planet.”

Jane’s mouth fell open and she looked at me in shock.

I went on, “Yep. You’ll get to work tomorrow and everyone at TCI will know exactly what you did last night. Heck, there are pictures probably all over the Internet now, plus videos of you putting out for every cock you could find.”

In a worried tone, Jane stuttered, “Pictures? Videos?”

“But it’s the rumor mill that will grind you up and spit you out in little pieces. Everyone at TCI will know what a slut works there – a senior director, too. Right now, the telephone lines between TCI staff are humming with how you degraded yourself and fucked everyone you could find. Heck, ‘slut’ is a kind word for some of what they’re calling you. Heck, every male cock in TCI will want to sink into your slippery cunt. Some of the women will want some private time with you, too, because you’ve now broken through the slut barrier and go both ways – men and women.

“I bet some of the men try to book appointments with you or set up dates with you, because now you’re a sure thing. If Jane gets near a cock, she’ll fuck it ... or want it to fuck her. Yep, your reputation at TCI is toast.

“You really think people will know? How will...”

I interrupted her; “You know you’re going to have to change your whole approach to life now. You’ll WANT to fuck all those cocks and lick all those pussies. You’re going to have Marge schedule time in your day when two or three people can come into your office, you shut and lock the door, you all strip, and then fuck each other’s brains out. There’ll be a sign-up sheet that’s booked up months in advance.”

Jane now started to see I had nicely led her from the reality of her depression and what she’d done into some far-fetched fantasy that could be laughed at.

Jane nuzzled her face into my chest. “God, Steve, I love you. Thank you. You know just the right things to say to get me to see the folly of my depression. I DID love last night, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I promise I won’t get so ‘down’ on myself again.”

I kissed her, “Jane, you may be a slut, but you’re MY slut, and I love you. Don’t forget that. I like what you did, and as I said last night, I think it took a lot of courage to do that. You aren’t to be condemned; you’re to be congratulated.”

We walked some more, and I added, “You said you had to tell someone. Just be careful, because whomever you tell just might be the focal point for what starts in the rumor mill.”

Jane said, “I will. Hey, you mentioned pictures and videos. Did anyone do that?”

I pulled my iPhone from my pocked. After flipping through some secure apps, I held the phone for Jane to see. I had six pictures of her on her back fucking different men, plus a three-minute video of her screaming for more cock as she tried to master the cock pumping away in her cunt, and two near her mouth.

Jane looked shocked. I said, “I’ll put them up on the Internet if you want, ... otherwise they’ll never see the light of day except for you and me – me when you’re not around and I need some jerkoff material.”

Jane whispered, “I want copies.” She laughed with a lecherous tone. I know whom I’m going to tell and I want to show them from my own phone.” I airdropped the stuff to her phone, and showed her how to get them into a secure app that only she could access with a six-digit password.

Monday morning, we departed early for New Jersey. We were groggy from getting up so early, so our conversation was functional, even in the car on the way to TCI headquarters. Once there we each headed in different directions to get started on the week’s business activities.

I put together a Wednesday evening cocktail party for the project personnel from FDC and the project people from TCI. On short notice, and with help from Marge, Jane’s secretary, we got a band, a caterer, a bartender for an open bar, and a large space upstairs at an upscale restaurant called The Giraffe that was walking distance from the TCI office and parking garage.