Chapter 4: Ted And Joan

I spent the early part of Friday cleaning my desk, returning phone calls and all that other shit, getting ready for my two o'clock appointment with Ted and Joan. Company policy prohibits me from mentioning their last name, but you'd recognize it. They are my very best clients, and yet I only handle a fraction of their wealth. Sandy stuck his head into my office once, with a 'when do you want to do it again?' leer, but I threw him out.

Ted had been a widower for two years before he met Joan. He's fifty-ish, devilishly good looking, deeply bronzed from all the time he spends on the golf course. In between banging every co-ed on campus, or so he describes it, he had spent his college years developing a computer game which he sold to one of the big companies. He hasn't worked since, just counting his money and living the good life.

Joan is a beautiful blonde, not yet thirty. You might think of her as a trophy wife, except for two reasons. One, she's under thirty, and I think that disqualifies her, and two, I think the term trophy wife refers to someone whose husband left his first wife for, and that didn't happen. On the other hand, you can't call her 'arm candy' either. She's tall enough to be statuesque; most of the bimbos are shorter. Also, despite being a blonde, she has an IQ of over 160, with an undergrad degree from Harvard and a Masters from Wharton School of Business. Plus, she didn't marry Ted for his money; she has almost as much in her own name. She says that it's because she 'chose her grandparents wisely.'

We spent about an hour reviewing their finances, and the meeting was running down. Ted spoke.

"Come on, Sue, let us buy you a drink."

What the hell, the market was closed in New York and my body was tired from the tension of work. Too much screwing over the last day and a half, I guess, also contributed to the ache. Twisting into all those positions and holding my legs so far apart does not come without a price. It was a beautiful day and we walked the three blocks to a roof-top hotel bar, accompanied by their limo creeping slowly behind us.

"Three martinis, please." That Ted is a take charge guy; he didn't ask, and with all the money I manage for him, I wouldn't have complained about whatever he ordered. We sipped and I listened to gushing about his kids, their new baby, the work on their home, etc. I was quiet and Joan noticed it.

"Something's the matter, isn't it, Sue?"

"No, it's nothing."

"Bullshit, I can tell."

I gave in.

"Did I ever tell you about Greg, the guy who mostly lives with me? He's a manager in one of our other branches. Well, I just found out that he's still fucking — (yes, I used that word, my history with Ted and Joan allows it) — still fucking his ex-wife. And then I find out that he and his son both are doing a three-way my cleaning woman every week."

I didn't bother to tell them that I myself had been fucking and sucking every cock and cunt available.

The two of them looked at each other, and they both nodded, some secret agreement passing between them. It was Joan who spoke.

"Sue, that man needs punishing. Why don't you come to our place tonight?"

"Why, do you have some neighbor you plan to fix me up with?"

"No, we don't need anyone else. Ted and I can help you punish Greg."

I raised my eyebrows. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Ted has had the hots for you since the first day we met." She paused, considering her next words. "So have I. We both agreed that we wouldn't pursue it until we were satisfied with the investment advice you'd be giving us. Well, the advice has passed the test. Would you care to allow us to help you punish your Greg?"

I also didn't bother to tell them that I had already had 'my' Greg locked out of my building. Why pass up such a nice sympathetic threesome.

"Lead the way, Joan."

We walked toward the elevator, Ted and Joan in front of me, holding hands. Joan gave a little shake of her ass and looked over her shoulder at me with a smile. I licked my lips and her smile became a grin. I noticed, and not for the first time, the panty line under her tight skirt. I was pretty sure she did that deliberately, to invite aroused thoughts from various viewers. When we were alone in the elevator, an outside glass elevator no less, she reached over to me and gave me a quick kiss, as did Ted.

This is going to be some wild evening.

Ted has no pretensions. At the limo, he didn't wait for the driver to get out and open the door for us, he did that himself. Joan got in first, sliding along the plush leather to the other side of the car. Ted gestured for me to follow her, and he brought up the rear. I was the meat in a client sandwich.

"Please take us to the house, Jimmy."

Home, James!

The panel separating front from back slid into place. The horny couple reached across me to hold hands, and then they placed them in my lap. I looked startled and Ted said, "He can only see the tops of our bodies, and he can't hear us at all."

I closed my eyes and leaned back, one hand reciprocating in the laps of each of them. I especially concentrated on the large bump in the front of Ted's slacks, a bump which grew as I massaged. He put one hand on mine, to keep it where it was, as though I had any intention of taking it away. I opened my eyes and saw Ted staring down at his crotch. I knew what he wanted.

The high quality zipper slid down noiselessly at the direction of my thumb and forefinger, allowing access by my hand. I reached in and wrapped my hand around a hard phallic member. The size was apparent to the naked hand, eyes being unneeded for this measurement.

Holy shit, Greg would kill for a piece of meat this big. Too bad, Greg. Fuck you, Greg.

I pulled it out into the stale tobacco air of the back seat. Jeez, it was beautiful. I sat there stroking it, imagining the things he and I would do with that thing; I wanted him to put it everywhere.

Joan watched all this with a Mona Lisa smile and then her hand reached up to caress the back of my neck. She gave a slight pressure and whispered to me.

"Suck it, Sue."

I looked at the back of Jimmy's head in the driver's seat and shook my own head. Joan laughed.

"Chicken. Jimmy doesn't care; he has his own regular harem. And sometime he'll fill in if we need him, but I don't think it'll be necessary tonight."

Then she leaned over me, moved my hand away and took her husband's meaty baseball bat into her mouth. Her head moved up and down, her mouth making very unladylike slurping noises, something I never expected from her. Ted put his hand on the back of Joan's head and I put mine on top of his. We both were holding her down, obviously an unneeded gesture. With my other hand, I reached under her, squeezing her marvelous chest.

Ted's breath shortened and he began to thrust his hips up toward his wife's mouth.

"I'm getting close, baby."

Her response, the classic action of any stroke story, was to speed up her sucking action. But I couldn't keep quiet.

"Joan, if you get his cum on his slacks, they'll be ruined."

"Don't worry, Sue. She hardly ever loses a drop. And if she does, we can afford new slacks."

Before he could finish the sentence, Ted let out a loud groan. I could see Joan's cheeks working as she bled his cock dry. Then, without any delay, she sat up and pulled my face to hers.

She wants to kiss me. She wants to snowball his cum into my mouth. Oh shit, yes. YES!

I accepted Ted's sperm greedily, though with my eyes open. I looked again at the back of the driver's head and saw that it was turned so that he could look through the rear view mirror. I saw his eyes and part of his face. He looked evil; maybe it was the smirk of knowing their secret, as well as mine, and I just did not like that man.

Oh, well.

I slid off the seat and knelt to suck Ted's cock dry. We couldn't very well let it get a cum stain on the slacks; then they'd have to take some of their money out of my management. The shaft was still hard. I kissed the head and ran my tongue across his piss slit before I sat down again.

Their home was a mansion. Imagine, seventy five hundred square feet, about three times the size of a regular subdivision home. Joan insisted on giving me the full tour; I think that was because she wanted to give Ted's balls time to fill up again. When we got to the master suite, Ted was already in a bathrobe and flip flops.

"How about a swim, Sue?"

"I don't have a bathing suit."

He gave me such a pained smile that I felt silly when I realized what I had said. I actually blushed. Joan gave me a robe and slippers, both still in their original wrappings.

"What about Jimmy or the other staff?"

"I pay them too well for them to risk being caught peeking."

Ted is a smart guy, but he's delusional if he thinks the staff doesn't watch them swimming nude, and probably doing each other out in the open. Well, who the fuck really cares?

Joan and I both stripped in the master bedroom. She hung both our outfits in her closet, suggesting that maybe I wasn't even going to have a guest room for sleeping time. That was definitely OK with me; I could sleep on Saturday when I got home. Ted looked us both up and down when we were naked, paying even more attention to his wife than he did to me. It was the sign of a truly happy marriage. I wasn't insulted, but it was strange, inasmuch as I was the new piece of candy in the dish.

He took our hands and the three matching bathrobes marched down the stairs to the pool in back, each robe wrapped around a buck-naked body. We dove in to the heated pool, got ourselves wet and played around like kids for a few minutes. My pussy was screaming for attention, but all this water apparently was meant for foreplay, because soon Ted climbed out of the water and threw towels to each of us.

The trip back upstairs was different. This time, we didn't hold hands, rather we had our arms around each others waists and shoulders. Joan quickly pulled off the covers of the king sized bed while Ted closed the shades, darkening the room. A twist of the dimmer switch gave us enough light to see each other. Three bathrobes hit the floor simultaneously as three bodies hit the bed.

Ted was against me, his hard manhood pressing into my hip. His lips met mine as his hands roamed over my breasts, engorged nipples rising to meet his fingers. Joan in the meanwhile was nibbling at my other hip while her hand probed between my legs, twirling my damp pussy hair into curls. My two hands each caressed a different head, except once in a while the hand on Joan's head moved to caress Ted's second head, the circumcised one. The room was silent except for breathing and giggling.

"Do you want some music, Sue, or some fuck flicks?"

"No fuck flicks, Ted, just fucks and sucks."

He raised himself to his knees and hovered above me. His body was hairy, dark colored hair all over his chest and back, covering rippling muscles, developed from all that time on the golf course. Even his groin was covered with curls, but happily not enough to hide that wonderful muscle, that singular piece of blood-filled flesh that makes the world revolve. I had seen it before, in the limo and in the pool, and each glance sent a message through my eyes for my brain to send juices flowing from my pussy.

I knew that his semen, his sperm, his cum, his baby juice, his fuck sauce, his spoonge, his whatever he wanted to call it, would be mine, somewhere inside my body, before my feet again touched the floor.

Ted knee-walked up my body, bringing his cock ever closer to my face. I took it into my hand, bending it toward my eyes. I studied the little broken lines on the head, those grains on a piece of meat, marveling at the smooth symmetry of his circumcision. A gentle pull backward opened up that delicious slit, winking at me as only a third eye can wink. I looked into the slit but saw nothing, leaving it to the imagination to view the creamy, pearly liquid that would soon be bubbling and spurting through that all-important sensitive opening.

My mouth opened to welcome his sexual organ, this time for more than just drying it off. He was surprised though when I took the head into my mouth and just rested my teeth behind the ridge, holding it in place without causing him any pain or discomfort, allowing my tongue to tease the slit. My hand reached between his legs to fondle his testicles, hanging there, two hard nuts in a soft sac, wrinkled like an old man's face. I squeezed each in turn — I knew enough to be gentle — and they slipped away from my fingers as if in fear. Ted inhaled sharply as I put his jewels in jeopardy.

"Softly, Sue, please."

Does he think that I'm stupid? Hey, where's Joan? Ooh, there's her tongue.

While I was playing with Ted, Joan was busy, her mouth working its way up my legs from the soles of my feet. As Carolina had nibbled her way down, Joan was working her way upward. I have to tell you, the thrill I get out of having someone suck my toes gets me hot as hell, and probably is as exciting to me as a blowjob is to a man. It may seem strange, since I can't cum with my toes, but it's a beautiful feeling. Truth be told, it had the tendency to make me forget that I had Ted's cock in my mouth.

By the time Joan was up to my ankles, I had tired of Ted's balls and left them alone, my hand moving toward the back in preparation for a prostate examination. I had no doubt, from the whole seduction scene, from the (unspoken) things they had told me about their sex lives, that doctors were not the only people to have had fingers — and other body parts or inanimate objects — up into the darkness beyond his sphincter. When my finger rubbed the sensitive area around his asshole, I felt Ted's legs spread as he tried to give me better access.