I knew no-one in the city anyway. Sensual comfort for me was on the Kindle, on random chat sites or snuggled up with my faithful little battery-powered pet. The touch of hot human flesh had eluded me now for longer than I could bear to recall.
So, briefed for my mission implausible assignment of the day, I waited on the scorching New York street at the bus stop by Grand Central for the Jitney to carry me to the Hamptons and deliver what seemed like an unnecessary message.
One that could easily have been phoned, texted or e-mailed, and which I couldn’t really understand anyway, to a bunch of high-flying traders who probably couldn’t have cared less.
My mission was to find the securities team in person, The Billionaire Bears, as they were called, and to tell them that their investment bankers had the best performance of any group last month, and they’d made even more kachillions of loot for the already obscenely wealthy firm.
The securities desk were called ‘the Bear Market’ by everyone in the firm. Whenever they were spoken of, it was in hushed tones, with a sense of awe. Why Golden Ballzack wanted to send me to deliver the news I had no idea. I think I figured it out in the end, though.
A courtesy limo met me at the East Quogue stop and I climbed into the back. The thing was almost the length of the bus that I had just got off, only there was nobody in it but me and the driver. It was a long way from where I sat in the soft black leather rear bench to where he was, but not so far that I couldn’t see him checking out my tanned legs and my excessively bouncing tits.
I knew that I should have been wearing a bra, but I slept late and got the call ridiculously early, and the one I had planned to wear still wasn’t dry. Anyway, the soft pink jersey rolled over my big girls in a very appealing way, I thought. And most people were polite enough not to stare and ogle. Most people, unlike this driver. If it gives some pleasure, well I’m all for that, but show some manners, dude.
He peered at me in the steamed up mirror and the noise of his breathing unnerved me so much I said, “Watch the road, dude!”
The country club was a gorgeous white sweep of colonnades and classical arches behind immaculate emerald lawns, and inside it was all pale wood, gold and marble.
The prim blonde in the dark suit and glasses at the reception desk told me that Golden Ballzacks’ group of sixteen executive asset consultants were just now completing their morning basketball game, and they were to be found by the leisure center.
When she snapped her fingers, an actual bell-hop appeared, red monkey suit, gold braid and little pillbox hat and all.
“Show this young lady to the leisure center,” was all she said through her wiry smile before she returned to the fascinating papers on her desk. I wondered what it was that had drawn her to the hospitality business.
The bellhop was cute, and the short jacket made his butt look very appealing. His name was Andy, and as he bounced alongside me, he said,
“Those Ballzacks guys, boy, they sure like to party, right?” I said that I didn’t doubt it, but I hadn’t been partying with them. He looked me up and down, checked my pert ass swaying in the white pleated skirt, trim legs shown nicely, I hoped, by the tall, clicky heels. Manolo’s, no less. Andy said,
“Well, I bet you’d make anybody’s party,”
I smiled at him and he smiled back. ‘Job in hand, Honey,’ I told myself, ‘Fix your mind on the job in hand.’ I couldn’t help noticing the front of his pristine pants, tightening as it was stretched forwards by a swelling from behind. I realized that I was licking my lips as I thought about the job I would have liked to get in my hand right then.
When I looked back up at Andy, his face was bright red.
We came to a pair of big pale wood paneled double doors, and Andy suggested I wait while he went in. As he pushed open the doors, deep, assertive and distinctly male growls echoed out. The doors swung closed behind him and there was a brief hush. Then a loud, roaring cheer.
Some sounds of dispute followed, but not for long. Andy came out red-faced and said,
“They want you to go in there,”
“Of course, that’s why I’m here,”
“Yeah, it’s the changing room, you know? The men’s changing room.”
“We all work at the same firm, Andy,” I said, feeling a great deal less confident than I tried to sound, “we’ll all be fine.”
Andy said, “You don’t know how much changing they’re doing in there.”
I thought he was sweet, and I told him so as I gave him a little peck on the cheek.
Andy opened the door for me. The warm air was thick with steam. White tiled floor and walls, wooden benches, and some some lockers and among them, more than a dozen large, dark silhouettes loomed towards me.
All of them were big, broad and thick.
There was a scent, a really strange but oddly familiar mix of sweetness and musk. The shadowy shapes inched slowly closer, and I felt the tremendous heat as they drew near.
Through the gathering throng a man burst out of the mist in front of me. He snapped his fingers and shouted towards the swinging door.
“Bell-boy! Champagne, smoked salmon, toast and cream cheese. Much. Swiftly.”
This was a man, a big, gorgeous man with a steely glint in his eyes the color of dark honey. He towered over me. His hair was a golden brown a few shades lighter.
He was immaculately dressed in expensive chinos and deck shoes. He turned back to the room and the steam swirled around his big frame. The hot mist billowed as the doors swung closed behind me.
“Guys, GUYS! the beautiful intern,” he smiled back at me, “Honey, isn’t it?” I smiled back and nodded, “Honey has a very important announcement to make to the team.”
A couple of gruff grunts and growls went up, “So let’s give her…” his strong voice was instantly swamped in whoops and yells. My courage was faltering. My breath caught and my stomach felt very hollow. He held up his hands. In the while that it took for the men to calm down, he said,
“I’m Clark, Honey. I’m very pleased to know you, and I’m afraid you may have to adjust to our boisterous ways. We securities traders, we’re kind of like Ron Jeremy. We work hard, people are disgusted by us, and most guys are mad jealous of what we've got.”
Clark’s smile was warm and reassuring, and instinctively I moved a little closer to him. I guess I hoped that he would be my Galahad, my gallant protector. He said,
“OK, guys, now give it up for Honey,” that got a big whoop. Steadying my voice as much as I could, I delivered the announcement. Their eyes shone through the clouds of vapor, all of them a similar, dark amber. Their bulk I couldn’t make out in detail.
I couldn’t tell if they were all wrapped up in fluffy towels, but they looked kind of, well, I know it sounds idiotic, but they looked kind of furry.
I really didn’t understand half of the message I had to deliver, but every mention of ‘performance,’ ‘delivery’ or ‘growth,’ got whoops, whistles and yells.
Clark said, “Nobody expects men as smart, educated, and successful as we are to make as many jokes about the number '69' as we do.”
After a while I made out a couple of guys in frat-boy shirts and khakis. One or two men came nearer in Ralph Lauren jeans.
Big, glistening men emerged, wet and holding thick white towels in front of them. They circled closer around me. I finished up delivering Golden Ballzack’s hearty congratulations and the assurance that their dedication would be appropriately rewarded.
They all cheered loudly and, on cue, Andy arrived with a trolley loaded up with bottles of champagne in ice-buckets, and huge plates of lox, cream-cheese and toast. One of the men signed a check and handed Andy a fold of paper money and ushered him away. As the door swung shut, he cast an anxious glance back to me.
A glass of champagne was being held out to me,
“Honey, you will join us to celebrate, I trust,” a firm, low-pitched Boston accent and a glass came from a dripping bear of a guy. His smile and his voice we
re charming, although his towel was slipping. “Miles,” he said, and he made a little bow.
The scent of testosterone was heady in the clammy heat, and between my thighs, my own animal reflexes were excited by the possibilities. ‘No, Honey,’ I told myself. ‘Even if it wouldn’t get you instantly disgraced and dismissed, just, NO!’ Although my breath and my legs were singing from another hymn sheet.
A large, hot and very male body was close up behind me. His skin was wet and his voice was like dark honey, “That jersey, in this humidity. It’s going to get ruined.”
Someone was helping me to drink, holding a glass to my lips. My lips parted and the zinging sparkle just slipped in. Fingers touched my neck. Big, strong fingers, tracing my throat, slipping up to my mouth, tracing my lips.
No, I had to stop this right now. Immediately. I turned. There was Clark. My knight. Only, he’d stripped off his armor. He held a morsel of smoked salmon over my mouth. I opened to let it slip in. Hands from behind me stroked the jersey, and began to lift it.
I put out a hand to stop them, but right where my hand went, it found a huge, hot, fat cock. Oh, Gosh. Now what? I should go. I should turn ad run. I should just say whatever it took and get out of there, right away. Really.
It was a magnificent cock, though. Huge and hot, pulsing and eager. It was fat, and it hardened between my fingers. It made my fingers feel very small and thin.
There were really a lot of lovely, huge cocks.
Clark’s hands were firm and tender on my breasts. As he circled and squeezed them, my nipples sprang forwards and stood out like buds, scratching against the inside of my jersey. Now I was desperate to have it off. But I couldn’t. I mustn’t.
Hands were on my thighs. Stroking upward, up under my skirt. My eyes widened and my mouth opened to speak, but Clark’s fingers slipped in between my lips. My clit buzzed and I felt the wetness seep in my pants.
My mouth and my lips were dry, and my tongue came out to moisten them. I reached out, and I found that I had a throbbing, buzzing cock in each hand. These would feel so good. They did feel good.
I squeezed them and looked for their owners. One was Clark. That was nice. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, and closed a seal with his lips over mine. My eyes closed and my stomach fluttered and my breath moaned into Clark.
I felt the hands on my thighs slipping up to my panties. And over them. All over them. And into them. Fingers slid inside my panties.
I should stop them. And I really, really wanted them. Then they found me, they found my clit, and I thought, ‘Well, the fuck. If I’m going to do it, then let’s go,’ I said,
“Alright, boys. Want to see me close a merger?” and the room erupted.
I looked into Clark’s eyes as I reached into my skirt to pull my little eau de nil panties aside. I said, loudly, “Well, is this going to be a bull market?”
“No!” came a roar, “This is a BEAR market!”
I bit my lip and looked down as I jumped to wrap my legs around his waist. Many hands supported me as I lowered my hot, wet opening onto the end of Clark’s hefty shaft. I gasped as he penetrated me.
It had been so long. And he was so long. I ground my hips into his, drawing him in, in, in and I held his face and my voice grated low and husky as I said,
“Come on, Clark, get a big position. Let’s liquidate some assets.” My sweater was pulled up and there was a cheer as my big girls came bouncing out, the shock of the air on my now naked skin pushing the thrills harder through me.
As Clark’s cock pumped and drove into me, I leaned back. Many kind hands supported me as dropped back and down until I found Miles’ cock, and I leaned back to drag that beast onto my tongue. The musky smell and the taste of him pushed my flow of sensations farther, deeper and longer. He filled my mouth with his pulsing shaft, and I licked along the top of it and I sucked on it.
Waves of tingling, bursting thrill rose and flowed through me. Miles’ cock was delicious as it stretched my throat wider than it had ever been stretched before. I pulled his buttocks to get him as deep into my throat as I could. Fingers milked my clit and hands nursed and squeezed my breasts, my soft pink jersey was now damp and all up under my armpits.
My white skirt was skewed around my waist, and my little panties were shoved aside and Clark was holding my ass so tightly, it pushed my rippling currents of orgasms further as his cock was swelling, accelerating, pumping and coming.
Hot spunk filled my wet puss and I squeezed Clark with my legs as hard as I could and I came with him. My juice dripped and dribbled down his legs, and I sighed a long sigh.
I got down to kneel in front of Miles, and a pair of hands began to massage the lips of my puss. ‘Nice,’ I thought, ‘but we’re a bit past the foreplay, kids.’ I held Miles’ cock as I turned to the boy behind me, a big, cuddly, fresh-faced and bright looking guy.
I like a bit of geek, so that was cool. I said, encouragingly, “Lie down. Under me.” He did, and I stroked his cock in case he needed a little encouragement. He didn’t though, and soon he slid up and in to stretch and service my dripping puss.
I looked around for a rough, hungry, sporty type. There was a big, dark-haired man with a fire in his eye, and I thought he’d be up to the task that I had in mind. I thought I’d try some of that finger-snapping that plays so well here.
I snapped my fingers at him, pointed to my ass, and turned back so that I could properly feast on Miles at last. As the guy below rammed up into my hot sex I ground my hips up and back as far as I could, to get his cock sliding through my lips and stroking my clit with as much pressure and friction as I could get going, and it did get me going. But also to give as much access as I could to my ass for the big guy.
I heard him spit and he moistened my little taint. I reached out towards a glass, and someone gave me champagne, poured along Miles’ huge cock and into my mouth.
His shudder was delicious, as was the champagne, and the cold slowed him down. I hoped that he would be able to get beck to his edge but, hey, there were plenty of guys here. Pretty much anything I could dream up, I was going to be able to get here.
My ass was softly opening for the guy behind me, and I felt a sharp, stinging smack on my butt cheek. The thrill of it made me laugh out loud, which helped Miles to revive and drove him on, since my laugh transmitted through his shaft, which was stiffening back up nicely now.
I wasn’t prepared for the shock of the hard, fat cock pressing into my ass, and as he slowly pushed it home, I lurched hard onto Miles’ cock, my lips almost reaching his tuft of sweet-smelling hair.
The gag thrilled me, too. As a good college girl, I did learn the basics of sword-swallowing, and I had put in some dedicated practice, but those skills had been rusting away for a long time, and I was excited to open that box again.
My lips and my tongue and my throat all closed as wet and as close as I could get them around Miles. I wanted that massive cock, I wanted what it had to deliver, I wanted it ALL and I wanted it NOW!
I plunged and I sucked and I pushed my rhythm just ahead of his breathing and I felt his pulse grow and quicken. His thighs tightened and mine did too. I was starting to gush on the guy beneath me, riding his cock like a telegraph pole, like a huge fucking lollipop.
My breath and my will was pulling on Miles and my ass was opening and grinding into the cock that was sending forks of fire and ice through me.
My ass ached and hurt in a way that I never got used to, but never entirely disliked either. It was definitely painful as that guy slid his shaft into my ass, but it was thrilling and I did love it. I loved having these fit, wealthy, high-performance guys all kneeling and sweating and whooping all around me.
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