Temptation Island

by StangStar06

Copyright© 2013 by StangStar06

Sex Story: A woman wants a promotion at work so badly that she risks her marriage and family for it.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Coercion   Tear Jerker   Cheating   Gang Bang   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Violent   Workplace   .

Hi folks, Thanks to everyone who wrote in about last week's story. I really understand that a lot of you hated the ending. I like that. No, I don't like the fact that you hated the ending. I liked the fact that those of you who liked it said so and those of you who didn't also said so. That's what this is about. Just remember they're onlu stories. And you guys, I've said it before are far smarter than I am. My original intent was to have Priya come in and see him lying there dead and shoot herself too. So those of you who picked up on the tragic Romeo and Juliet thing are simply too smart. Anyway, this week we have something else. I'm pretty sure that the BTB part of the audience isn't going to like this ending of this one but next week will be their turn. As usual, Thanks to the truly gifted Mikothebaby for finding and fixing my F' ups.


My name is Lisa Bennett and I'm not a happy camper. I'm vying for one of the manager positions at my office and the competition is fierce. I've done everything I could to make myself stand out from some of the other people in the organization who have just as much seniority as I have. But I'm not sure I've done enough to put me over the top.

In actuality, I've done more than I ever should have, but getting that position is really important to me. Becoming a manager is the first step to becoming an executive in our company. Becoming an upper management level person is one of my goals.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but I've been having sex with my boss for the last two months in order to make sure that I have his recommendation. I feel awful about doing it, but I have to use every advantage I can come up with. I'm competing against other employees who don't have all of my weaknesses. Some of the women I'm competing against are a lot prettier than I am. And some of them are built far better. I don't have huge tits or a slim rounded ass. My legs aren't like a bikini model's perfect limbs. And I'm not even the smartest among the candidates.

I do have the edge when it comes to knowledge of the company's rules and procedures, but shit, anyone can consult our rule book for that. I'm not single. So I don't have the ability to travel anywhere at the drop of a hat or to do unlimited overtime. I have to use whatever I can to secure this position. It will make everything better for my family.

I love my family more than anything and I want them to be proud of me. My husband Jeff is my soul mate. I love him more than life itself. And he feels the same about me. Whenever I need to do something for my job, Jeff steps in to pick up the slack. When I had to attend that management trainee seminar, Jeff juggled not only his responsibilities but mine as well. He never grumbled he just did what he had to do. I'm hoping he can summon the strength to do it for me one more time.

Part of the reason that I feel so bad about what I'm doing is because I love Jeff so much, but I want to be an exec so badly that it just forces everything else out of my thoughts. It's my fondest dream. I want to be one of those women, in the tailored suits and dresses with a slim briefcase. I want to be the kind of woman that everyone fears. I want to go toe to toe with the big boys and determine what company policy will be.

From the time that I was old enough to watch television, I was always fascinated with female executives and entrepreneurs. At my age, nearing forty, the chances of me inventing a better mouse trap or starting my own company are getting slimmer. My best chance is to work my way to the top or near the top of the company I'm already working for. I guess this is my last chance at making sure my dream doesn't die, so I'm pulling out all of the stops and just going for it. Come Hell or high water, I have to give it everything I have.

My kids aren't really old enough to understand it. They get the fact that sometimes Mommy has to work longer so Daddy picks them up and drops them off. And sometimes Daddy has to make their breakfast and their lunches and their dinners. Sometimes, Daddy has to tuck them in at night too. Sometimes Daddy has to tell them that Mommy loves them because they haven't seen me in a couple of days, because I leave before they wake up in the morning and don't get home until after they're asleep. I hate all of that. It sometimes makes me feel like a failure as a mother when I miss those recitals and sports events but I tell myself that in the end it will all be worth it.

I guess the reason that I'm not a happy camper right now is because I'd thought that the worst part of this was over. I'd thought that once my boss, Ken Daniels, had given me his recommendation for the position, I wouldn't have to have sex with him anymore. I just found out that he wants me to go away for the entire weekend to a seminar on an island. He said that all of the biggest executives for our company will be there and it will give them a chance to see me in action.

Once he'd dangled that carrot, I knew that I couldn't refuse. But I also knew that he'd expect to have sex. And it wasn't his fault either. Ken was happily married just like I am. He has two kids, a girl and a boy, just like I do. I know his wife Patty and I like her. Ken also wasn't forcing himself on me. He hadn't sexually harassed me or anything like that. I had actually made the first move. Ken had commented on how many members of our staff were in the running for the manager's position that would be opening up and soon as George Willis retires at the end of the fiscal year and how it was going to be tough to make that decision. I'd thought about it for a couple of days and when he came to work grumpy one morning, I asked if he was okay. He'd told me how Patty was having as he called it, female problems, so she wasn't relieving his stress. He'd laughed about it, but later that day I gave him a blow job in his office.

I also told him that he should take me along on his over-night trip to Ohio. While we were in Ohio, I let him fuck me and that had started things out. There was no love involved. Ken loved his wife and I love my husband. It was only sex for him and just my way of getting a leg up on the competition. When he gave me the recommendation, I'd seriously thought that the sex between us was over.

There really was no need for it to continue. Patty had recovered from whatever her problems were and I had my name in the hat. As far as I was concerned, we were done. Besides, Patty is prettier than I am, younger than I am and Ken loves her. Why the hell would he need me?

So now I have to go home and ask my husband, who I feel guilty about cheating on and who is already doing far more than his share of work around our house and with our kids, to let me go away for a weekend seminar. If either one of us deserves a weekend getaway, it's him.

For once, I get out of the office at a decent time. It's only 7 o'clock when I pull into our driveway behind Jim's precious Mustang. I barely escape being splashed with the hose. Jeff is washing and waxing that car yet again. I think he washes it every day during the summer. It's probably closer to every second or third day but shit ... the last time my car was washed ... I don't actually remember the last time my car was washed.

He smiles and waves as I get out of the car. He puts the hose down and comes over to kiss me. He takes my briefcase in one hand and wraps the other hand around my waist. I pretend not to notice that his other hand drops down onto my ass, which he gives an affectionate squeeze.

As we pass through our backyard on our way into the house the kids continue running around the yard chasing each other. There are a couple of the neighborhood kids over playing with them. I turn and smile at them but they keep playing.

"They're having a good time," said Jeff.

"They didn't even notice that I'm home," I said. I was really disappointed that my kids didn't come over to even see me.

Jeff notices my disappointment and smiles. Then he pushes me up against the counter and wraps his arms around me. As he leans to kiss me, I can feel his dick hardening and pressing against me. He gives me a very gentle yet insistent kiss and reaches both hands down to squeeze my flabby ass.

"It's been a while Lis," he says between kisses.

"Jeff, it's only been since this morning," I mumble between kisses. "And before that it was last night and yesterday afternoon while the kids were napping before that."

"Can I help it if I just always want you?" he asked. I just laughed because it was true. We'd been married for over fourteen year and my husband's ardor for me had never faded. As I matured and cut my long flowing hair to a more manageable short cut, it didn't change things. As my ass started to spread and my cheerleader's tight body became almost frumpy, Jeff just said it made me more comfortable. While all of my friends of a similar age were grumbling about how their husbands rarely wanted to have sex with them anymore, Jeff still fucked me every chance he got.

And he was sneaky about it sometimes too. I remember a few weeks ago when there was still snow on the ground and we were having one of those family movie nights. The kids were still wide awake and weren't going to doze off for quite a while. I was lounging around in my underwear and a long robe.

Jeff had called me to come down into the basement. His voice was loud and sounded as if he was upset. As I walked down the stairs he'd been grumbling about something I'd done to the washing machine. He closed the basement door behind us and followed me down the steps.

"Do you see it?" he said. "You need to take care of that."

"What?" I asked looking at the machine. I looked closer and found that Jeff was behind me. He quickly flipped my robe up and started rubbing my pussy though my panties. I was shocked but I was also turned on. He stuck his knee between my legs to spread them and then knelt behind me and stuck his face on my panty covered pussy. He rubbed my clit and started humming which vibrated my labia. My panties got wet almost immediately.

He turned me around, pulled his pants down and stuck his dick in my mouth roughly. He grabbed the sides of my head and just fucked my mouth. He thrust himself in and out while pushing my head back and forth as if I was just a device to be used for his pleasure.

Then he pulled me up and yanked my panties off, tearing them in the process. He slapped my ass a couple of times and then bent me over the washer and pushed his dick inside of me to the hilt in one thrust. He put his hand over my mouth to keep me from crying out and started slamming it to me hard and fast. He reached around and rubbed my clit almost gently while he slammed me. I whimpered and moaned but the sound didn't carry, at first because of the hand over my mouth but later because his kisses and my responding kisses didn't let the sound carry.

He pulled out of me roughly, just when I was ready to climax and leered at me with his dick still dripping our combined fluids. He pushed me and I landed in a pile of dirty clothes. He opened my robe and started sucking on my nipples and biting them.

The he climbed on top of me and everything changed. "I love you Lisa," he said. And he re-inserted his dick into me. I spread my legs as wide as I could get them and he took his time. He very slowly and very gently stroked me until I was ready to climax again. When I told him I was there he stopped. "Squeeze that pussy," he hissed in my ear. "Milk this dick." He stopped thrusting and just rubbed the base of his dick against my clit, which was fluttering like crazy. I tried to clamp my internal muscles around him even tighter. The head of his dick was in me so far, that I was sure you could see it in my stomach.

"Oh fuck," he said, as I squeezed him the last time. His dick let loose a torrent of hot, sticky sperm deep inside of me that drove me over the edge. I clamped my thick legs around his back and held onto him as I rode the waves of pleasure.

When he came down off of our natural high, he gently kissed me again, then stood up pulled his pants back up and looked down at me lying among the dirty clothes with my legs open and his sperm leaking out of me. "Lisa, you have to take care of this machine," he said, loudly enough for the kids to hear us upstairs.

"Jeff, I'll take care of that machine whenever you want, baby," I said. He ran back upstairs to continue watching the movie with the kids while I got myself together. I threw the panties he'd ruined away and cleaned my bruised pussy. Jeff knew me so well. He knew exactly what my needs were. He also knew how to manipulate them. He knew enough to treat me like a whore to get my juices flowing and then slow things down and make sure I knew that he loved me by finishing me off with romantic and gentle sex.

I had never ever said, "No," to my husband and I never will. He knows that but he doesn't abuse the privilege. We have had sex in public places, which fuels my desire for risky things. But he never does it in places where we might get caught by anyone who knows us. Lots of strangers have seen him fucking the shit out of me, but no one that we know has ever come close.

Reality intrudes and suddenly, I'm back in the present and my body is responding to Jeff as it always does. I want him badly but then I always do. The problem is that right now I'm not clean. Luckily this far his kisses have only been on my lips. I can't allow him to try to put his tongue in my mouth. I'd never do that to him while there might be traces of Ken's leavings in me.

There isn't much chance of it, since I only swallow with Jeff, but I'm not taking any chances.

I turn my face away from him. "Honey, the kids might see us," I said. "I'll take a shower and meet you in our room. You can bring me a plate of whatever delicious dinner you fed our children."

"And then what?" he asks.

"And then I give you my latest round of bad news," I pouted.

"And then what?" he asks again.

"And then after the kids are asleep..." I turn to face him and look into his eyes. I'm staggered by the amount of emotion I read from him. He clearly loves me, but sometimes even I'm awed by how much.

"After the kids are asleep ... you can do whatever you want to me for as long as you want," I said.

"Now you're talking," he says happily.

When I get out of the shower, I tell Jeff about the trip and he just smiles and tells me that he can handle the kids for a weekend and that it's no big deal.

After the kids go to sleep, my husband rolls over and undresses me. He starts out by gently massaging me until I'm ready to pop from his touch, then eats me to a giant orgasm. After that, he makes slow romantic love to me and we fall asleep in each other's arms.

I wake up the next morning and start getting ready for work. I kissed him on his forehead and make a firm decision that the weekend trip will be the last time I ever cheat on him. He deserves far better than he's getting from me.

Two days later, Jeff and the kids drive me to the airport. We drive my Volvo and not his Mustang, because he doesn't like stuffing luggage and other things in its tiny trunk. He also doesn't like the kids kicking the backs of his leather seats.

The back of my Volvo also looks like the garbage can in a candy store, with all kinds of bubblegum and bits and pieces of candy stuck to the seats. Jeff would have had a heart attack or at least a vasectomy, if his back seat looked like that.

I met Jim and a couple of our coworkers on the plane. We flew to the coast and then took a boat to the island.

As we get off of the large boat, I notice that the island is called la Isla Tentacion. It looks more like Fantasy Island from that old TV show. As soon as we step off of the gangplank, people are rushing to grab our bags. As we check into the hotel, we are immediately whisked away to bungalows in a more secluded part of the island.

One of the first things I notice is that Ken and I are sharing a bungalow that is a short distance away from our other coworkers. I immediately tell him that the accommodations won't do. "Ken, there is no way I'm sharing a room with you," I tell him. "All I'd need is to have one of the guys notice the arrangement and let it slip. What do you think Jeff would do to you if he heard about it? What would Patti do to you?"

He looked disappointed, but he called the desk and got me my own room. We were all tired from the flight and the boat trip, so after dinner, we all settled into our rooms to rest. Less than ten minutes after I got to my room, there was a knock at my door. Ken slipped inside as soon as I opened the door.

"God, I've been waiting for this for two days," he gushed. "Why do you still have your clothes on?"

He started trying to open my blouse and I just let him I was in shock. "This is going to have to be a quickie," he said. "I really have to save my strength for tomorrow."

He stripped my blouse off and pulled down my shorts. He pulled me over to the bed and pushed me down onto it.

He lined his dick up and just pushed it into me. I'm not even sure he'd ever heard of the word, "foreplay." He just started fucking me like I was part of the hotel staff and it was my job.

"Thanks, Lisa," he said when he was done. Then he headed off to his room or the bar. I have no idea where he went. I was just shocked. I stayed there in the soiled bed and cried silently. I realized, of course, that it was my own fault. After all, what had I expected? Every encounter Jim and I had experienced had been the same. Rushed blow jobs in his office and hurried sex in cheap motel rooms had been the total of our time together. You couldn't really call what we had an affair, because an affair is a relationship. Although most involve a lot of sex, they also involve dates and dinners and trips. All Ken and I had ever done was just to relieve his stress.

I guess maybe in the back of my mind, I'd thought that since this was in fact going to be the last time we did anything, that he'd make it memorable or at least like we meant something to each other. I realized once again how truly superior to Ken, my husband was, and I vowed once again to never do anything like this again.

I called Jeff at home and told him how miserable I was and that I missed him. He said the same thing he always did. "Honey, you can come home anytime you want. You can even quit that job. We'll be fine," he said. And I knew that he meant it. Hearing his voice made me feel stronger. I was determined to show the other three managers tomorrow exactly how competent I was and get their support as well as Jim's.

The next day, Saturday, would be the main work day. Saturday evening we'd do some kind of social thing and then we'd all be back on the boat first thing Sunday morning. We'd be on the plane by Sunday afternoon and back home by Sunday evening. At least that was the planned itinerary. I had breakfast with Ken that morning and he lowered the boom on me. None of the executives were on the island. Actually only the four managers were present. I was angry at first but Ken assured me that this would be the perfect opportunity to raise myself further up on the list.

Right after breakfast, Ken and I headed for one of the bungalows. He knocked on the door and walked right into the room. Inside the room was Alan Jenkins. I knew Al from work. Al was the manager of the accounting department. He was basically a bean counter and looked the part. Al was barely five foot six and weighed over two hundred and forty pounds. He wore thick glasses and squinted all of the time. He looked like a fat hedgehog, with his combed straight back hair. Actually hairy was a good way to describe Al he had thick hair all over every body part I could see.

From the moment Jim and I walked in, Al's eyes followed me everywhere I went. They made small talk for a few moments and then Ken looked at his watch.

"Lisa, you are so lucky," he said. "Do you know how many of our co-workers would love to be in your shoes? Probably all of them would love to be where you are right now. As you know, on our level there are four managers and with George retiring at the end of the month, most of the people with even a ghost of a chance are fighting tooth and nail for his position. I'm getting all kinds of people trying to buy me lunch, or do all kinds of things for me."

"Me too," said Al. "They just won't stop."

"Lisa, you've already got my vote," he said. "But one vote out of the top four managers just puts you on the list. That's why Al is here. Al's vote would do a lot towards moving you to the top of that list."

"What is it going to take to get Al's vote?" I asked. "I already save the company money by maintaining the lists of office supplies and buying from the cheapest vendors possible. I make sure we turn off lights whenever possible and recycle as many things as possible."

"We've noticed your contributions," said Al nervously.

"You just need something to get you over the top Lisa," said Ken.

"What could I do?" I thought. I liked the way this was going. The previous evening Jim had left me feeling like I was more of a prostitute than a coworker. Now I was here with two managers discussing strategy and my career. This was what I'd wanted from the beginning.

"I think a blow job, would go a long way with Al," said Ken. Al looked away nervously. I sat there in shock.

"If you don't want to..." said Al nervously.

"No Al," said Ken. "She's just more used to guys who take charge."

"I don't know," said Al. "I don't need any sexual harassment charges and..."

"Al, you didn't pressure her," said Ken. "She's offering to do it for you. You didn't even ask her to. You never even mentioned it. I did. She's probably just nervous about me being here with the two of you while it happens, so I'm going to leave. I'll be back in a half hour or so."

It took all I had not to start crying right then. At least Ken was normal looking. My husband was better looking and in better shape than Ken, but Ken was far better looking than Al. Al looked like Ron Jeremy but without Ron's good looks. The biggest difference between Al and Ron Jeremy was the height. Ron Jeremy cold easily land the role of Honey Boo Boo's mother in a movie, but Al would be too short.

I thought about it as Al warily eyed me. It was only a blow job and it would mean that two of the four managers would be on my side.

I slowly reached for Al's zipper. The hardest part about blowing Al was that I kept losing his dick in my mouth. Al's equipment was the smallest I'd ever seen on a man. I also found out that Al's wife refused to give blow jobs so the one I gave him was his first, EVER. He was very nice about it, but I still felt like a whore.

True to his word, Ken came back in thirty minutes. We went back to my room. "Brush your teeth," he said. As soon as I did that, we left and went to another bungalow. This time the bungalow belonged to Derrick Martin. Derrick was a tall thin black guy. He was the production manager and one of the most important men in the company. When Ken left me with Derrick, I knew what would happen. I sucked Derrick off and then he fucked me. I'd heard that black guys had huge dicks but I'd never seen one. Derrick's dick was like the rest of him. It was pretty long but it was also pretty thin.

Derrick ran his dick the way he ran the production floor. He just kept slamming away until he came. Just before he shot his sperm, he pulled out and shot it all over my face. There was a lot of it and it smelled awful.

Ken came back and took me back to my room. We didn't even speak to each other. I showered and put a robe on. "Get dressed, we're not done yet," he said.

"But I have three out of the four votes," I said.

"Lisa, you don't have the most important one yet," he said. "If you really want George's job, then George being willing to train you for the last few weeks before he leaves would help a lot."

I followed him to George's room. George was eighty years old. Even after taking a Viagra pill and waiting twenty minutes the best I could do for George was to get him a tingle down there. I used a lot of lube and proved my ability as a manager when I managed to get George's nearly flaccid dick into my pussy.

Almost as soon as he was inside of me, his eyes rolled back inside his head and he came. He hadn't pulled out and I hadn't made him wear a condom. I had no fear though that George's eighty year old semen contained enough active sperm cells to impregnate me.

It had taken almost ninety minutes with George so it was nearly dinner time. I ate dinner alone in my room and felt like shit. I hated Ken, but I hated myself more. Led Zeppelin had a song called Stairway to Heaven, I felt like I was on the Stairway to Hell. My journey to damnation had been a series of very small steps from faithful wife to full-fledged whore.

As most things do, it started with a dream. I had a dream to be an important woman. When I saw my chance, my head was filled with beer commercials and slogans from sportswear companies. They always say, "Just do it," or, "Go for it," or, "No fear." And we've all been told for as long as I can remember that a quitter never wins and a winner never quits. So I reached out for my dream and found myself in the midst of a competition. It was also a competition that on paper, I couldn't have won. There were lots of people who had higher or just better degrees than I did. There were people with more technical knowledge than I had. All I've proved was that I was willing to give away a bigger piece of my soul.

So at this point, maybe I'd get that promotion after all, but would it actually be worth it? It had been one tiny step on my descent into hell that had begun that journey. Ken and I had been friends and I'd taken one tiny wrong step. I gave him a blow job. I'd thought that it would go no further. I'd thought that act would put me over the top. It had escalated to me letting him fuck me. That had evolved into my being pretty much his sex toy, but now he was whoring me out to his peers.

After dinner, I decided I'd call Jeff. I just needed to hear the sound of his voice. I needed to talk to my kids. I needed something to make me feel human and loved again. It didn't happen. After dinner Ken and the other three all came to my room for the main event. They took turns fucking me and having me blow them until we ran out of condoms and they ran out of steam. At one point, I'd screamed in pain when Ken forced his dick halfway into my ass. I immediately pulled away from him and slapped the shit out of him.

"Lisa, I thought you'd like to see what double penetration was like," he smiled. "Come on this is a team building exercise. You're the only female manager so you're going to need to prove you can take one for the team."

After they left, I curled up in a ball on the floor. The sheets and even the mattress were so full of cum that it smelled awful. All of the men, even though they wore condoms, had elected to pull out, take off the condoms and shoot on me rather than risk any chance of a pregnancy. Like me they were all married and happily, with the exception of George. I wondered then why they'd risk their careers and their marriages. It wasn't like I was some sex goddess. Shit, the only man I knew who loved me was my own husband Jeff.

I'm not some tall, blond, Swedish bombshell. I'm a short, small breasted brunette with glasses and a fat ass. I have a gut from bearing my husband two children and flabby legs. It just didn't make sense. None of these men had the hots for me. And they all seemed to love their wives.

As we waited to board the boat the next morning, I heard a few of them talking.

"I can't believe she let us do that to her," said Al. "Ken, you almost fucked her ass. Does your wife let you do that?"

"Hell no," said Ken. "My wife isn't a whore. Are you crazy? I'm lucky to get a half assed blow job on my birthday. All Patti gives me is plain vanilla sex. That's why when Lisa just walked in and sucked my dick that day last month, I knew that we had something going. Think about it. We can have regular manager's meetings and fuck her as much as we want. And I guarantee you, before the month is out, not only me but all of us will have fucked her ass. This weekend was just about loosening her up. Shit, the bitch went way further than we ever expected. She never said no, except for me sticking my dick up her ass. And I'll bet you with a little patience and some lube, I'll be up in her guts before the week is out."

"And the best part," began Derrick. "Is that by promoting her to manager, we don't have to worry about some of those smart assed, young, recent college grads coming in and making us look bad. We promote the one person in the whole company who isn't smart enough to actually threaten any of our jobs."

"Plus, we get to fuck her as much as we want," said Ken. "All of the nasty things that your wife won't let you do to her, you can do to Lisa. It not only makes the company better, it makes our marriages better. We don't have to keep making our wives angry at us by pestering them for things they don't want to do."

"But what about her marriage?" asked Al.

"Shit, that's on her," spat Ken. "Remember, she started all of this. She came to me. I did not ask her for that blow job. And she could have always said, "no," at any time. She obviously doesn't love her husband. Either that or the poor bastard just isn't getting the job done. Maybe he's one of those guys who are just too nice to give the slut the treatment she wants. Didn't you hear the way she was moaning and howling last night? She loved it..."

I wanted to walk over to them at that moment, just to shut them up. But I couldn't. I had to wipe away my tears first. Everything they'd said had hurt me. I knew that you had to be ruthless and self-serving to succeed in business sometimes, but I had never expected anything like this.

They were right. I had howled and moaned when they'd used me the night before. But it was from pain. It's really strange when you think about exactly how much sperm ended up on me and the furniture in that room and then realize that I didn't have even a single orgasm. So the whole thing about Jeff not being able to give me what I needed was simply ridiculous.

The thing about me not loving my husband was so ludicrous that I never even considered it. The rest was just hurtful. They made it apparent that they all thought of me as just an idiot. My only value to the company was my inferiority and my stupidity. And maybe they were right. After all, I let a group of fat, over the hill, middle managers, who were afraid of losing their jobs to younger, smarter, employees pick me to replace a retiring co-worker. And I did it because not only am I stupid, but I'll also give them all the pussy they want and do things their wives won't.

I walked by them and immediately went up to the top level on the boat. As I walked up the stairs, I heard them still talking about me.

"Hey, do any of you guys want to go into that little cabin in the back and fuck her on the boat?" asked Ken.

"Shit, I'm still tired from last night," said Al. "I got more pussy last night than I have since I got married."

"And the best thing about it," said Derrick, "Is that the bitch doesn't complain. With my wife, every time she gives me some, I have to practically kiss her ass for the next few days."

"What about the fucking Holidays," laughed Ken. "You know when you go out and spend a couple of grand on a God damned diamond bracelet and they just give you the same worn out pussy they always give you and act like you're supposed to be glad to get it..."

It was a long trip home. On the trip home, I also found out some things about the island from listening to them. It turned out that the island, la Isla Tentacion, was Spanish for Temptation Island. The island catered to affairs and trysts. A lot of rich people and corporate execs who wanted to cheat on their wives or husbands went there. That was pretty much what the island was set up for. That's why there were very few activities available on the island. There was no swimming or snorkeling or water-ski lessons. Most of the activity took place in the rooms. It was like a huge BYOW brothel. BYOW stood for Bring Your Own Whore.

When I met Jeff and my kids at the airport, I wanted to hug them until they popped. I thought about making the vow that my husband was going to be the luckiest man on earth. Jeff would never be like those poor bastards I'd spent the weekend with. As I considered it, I realized that Jeff already wasn't. Jeff had never had to beg me for sex. Jeff also already got any kind of sex he wanted from me. I gave him blow jobs often and I actually loved sucking his dick. I sometimes did it for hours at a time just because I love him so much.

Jeff and I had also gone through a phase when I gave him anal sex regularly. But after a while he simply didn't want it as much as he loved burying his dick in my pussy from different positions. Every once in a while, he still got my ass, and I loved it. But Jeff did it with love and consideration for me. He didn't just ram his dick up in me without thinking about whether or not it would hurt me.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe it wasn't that their wives didn't enjoy sex. Maybe it was just that their wives didn't enjoy sex with THEM. I know that I hadn't. And between sleeping, the flight and the boat ride home, I'd had almost 18 hours to recover from the gangbang the night before. What I wanted was a nice hot bath in my own tub, followed by a session with my own personal husband/massage therapist and then to have him slowly and lovingly make love to me with kissing me and making me feel loved.

As soon as I got the manager's position and had it confirmed, I could start my revenge on those bastards for what they'd done to me. This manager's position was going to be my springboard to upper management and once I was a step above them, I'd fire them all and replace them with some of those same younger people they were so God damned afraid of.

By mid-week I should pretty much have the job. I might have to perform a service or two for them during that time to make sure that none of them backed out of the deal. But from the second I had that job locked in; none of those bastards or any other man except for my husband would ever touch me again.


Jeff Bennett

I'd just gotten to work and settled in at my desk when the phone rang.

"Hello," I said absent mindedly into it. At that moment, I was so busy looking for a depreciation calculation chart on my computer, that the phone call didn't really matter.

"Mr. Bennett, my name is Claire Higgans and I need a few moments of your time to discuss a personal matter."

The voice on the phone wasn't familiar and her no nonsense tone forced me to stop looking for the file and sit up straight in my seat. I mentally went over everything I'd ever done to see if I could figure out what the call was about before answering.

"Ms. Higgans, I'm not sure I remember you. So you'll have to refresh my memory on whatever personal matter we have to discuss," I said.

"Ooh, very straight and to the point," she said. "That's exactly the way engineers work. Get right to the problem. No small talk, no flirting, no bullshit, just dive right in. I like that. Mr. Bennett we haven't actually met," she said, which only confused me more.

"Do you know Patti Daniels?" she asked.

"Nope," I said, although I have to admit that the name was somewhat familiar.

"She's married to Ken Daniels. He works with your wife," she said.

"Okay, I remember her now," I said. "But Patti and I have never really spoken much. We did have dinner a couple of times along with our spouses but Patti and I didn't really talk much. To tell you the truth, I remember her as being really pretty, but if she was standing in front of me, I don't think I could pick her out of a lineup. So I..."

"You don't see what the two of you have in common, correct?" she asked.

"Exactly," I said.

"Mr. Bennett, you and Ms. Daniels have quite a bit in common, but I'd really rather not discuss the details over the phone," she said. "Could you meet us at my office for a lunch meeting?"

"I don't think that's possible," I said. "I already left work early on Friday to drive my wife to the airport. I need to buckle down today and take care of business."

"That's why I suggested a lunch time meeting," she said. "Trust me Mr. Bennett, you really want to be at this meeting."

"Give me your address, " I said reluctantly. "And I'll be there at noon. " She read off an address and I jotted it down on a pad on my desk.

"Mr. Bennett, you might want to tell your assistant or your coworkers that you possibly won't be back until tomorrow," she said. "I'm pretty sure that once you've seen what we have to talk about you won't be in the mood to work anymore today." Then with a cheerful goodbye, she hung up the phone.

11:45 found me whipping through slower traffic on the freeway. The muscular grunt of my Mustang's exhaust system let slower cars know that I was around. I hated driving on the freeway during the lunch rush. It always seemed like no one knew where they were going. And God damn it but older drivers are just the worst. There's always some two hundred year old man, who can barely see above the steering wheel, driving seventeen mph in the fast lane and wondering why everyone around him is blowing their horn.

I got to the address I'd been given with five minutes to spare. The building was a nicely designed office tower on a fairly busy street. I went in and asked the woman at the information desk about the office number I'd been supplied.

Following her directions I took an elevator to the fifth floor and found the office right away. The sign painted into the large glass office double doors simply read Client Services. I realized that a name like that could refer to a plethora of functions.

The receptionist who sat at the desk filing her nails smiled at me as soon as I stepped inside the double doors. She leaned forward so I got a glimpse of enormous breasts stuffed inside of a pale yellow silk blouse. She had very light blond hair and was tanned far too deeply for the tan to have occurred naturally. If she'd stayed in the sun for that length of time, she'd be burned to a crisp and her skin would have the consistency of leather and a lot of melanoma lesions.

But instead, her skin was darker than her hair and although it had the glow of youth, the color was that shade known as "Whorange." It's a skin color reserved for women who spend too much time at tanning salons and getting plastic surgery done in the hope of securing a rich husband.

She smiled at me even more as I approached the desk and showed me her too white teeth. It was all I could do not to laugh in her face.

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