“Do you know what your boss did tonight?” I asked my husband on the way home from his company dinner. I didn’t wait for him to answer. “He had the nerve to put his hand on my leg under the table. Can you believe this guy? Who does he think he is?”
My name is Ginger. I’m 38 and a stay-at-home wife with two elementary aged girls. My husband, Mark, is 41 and had just completed one year as sales manager with an equipment sales and rental company. He had worked for other companies in this field and built a solid reputation. This had led to him being contacted my Norman Lierman, the owner of his current company. After a couple of months of negotiations, Mark had agreed to come on board as sales manager for the Southeastern region. In addition to working together, Mark and Norman had become real friends, sharing their love of golf every Saturday they could get away.
The new job came with a hefty salary increase and the necessity to relocate. We moved from Phoenix to Mobile, Alabama during the summer to make the school transition easier for the girls.
Mark had done very well in his new position, resulting in his team winning division of the year honors at the annual awards banquet. That award garnered his team the right to sit at the owners’ table tonight. The husband and wife seating arrangement put me on Mark’s right with Mr. Lierman next to me on my right, Mr. Lierman’s wife, Susan, on his right and so on around the table.
Though she appeared to be several years younger than her husband, Susan was not at all the gold digger type like some business owners like to have on their arm. She works as the office manager at her husband’s company and, according to Mark, is a vital part of the operations.
Susan is an incredibly stunning woman. I’m 5′ 3″ and she towered over me by several inches. Her red hair hung almost to her waist, lovingly framing her delicate face and the freckles that were scattered across her cheeks and nose. Her out-going friendliness and an undeniable southern accent made her a pleasure to be around. We had become instant friends from the first time we met and by the time the awards banquet rolled around, we had become “pals”, sharing many cups of coffee and recipes on those Saturdays when we were golf widows.
And, for the first time in my life I felt a strange attraction to another woman. Not is a sexual kind of way, at least not at first. Just that southern touchy, feely kind of attitude. The gentle touch on my arm to make a point, the arm around my shoulders when looking over my shoulder at a picture in a magazine, the things that seemed second nature to her caused tingles that I didn’t understand course thru my body.
And a welcoming hug was automatic each time we met. And I’m not talking about a gentle arm around the shoulders kind of hug. I’m talking about a full-frontal squeeze that pushed her ample breasts into me, just above my own because of the difference in our heights. I couldn’t help but notice how firm they felt. I am embarrassed to admit that, more than once, I had caught myself wondering if they felt that firm without the support of a bra.
“Oh Ginger, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. He probably didn’t even realize he was doing it as he was leaning over to talk to me,” Mark commented as we pulled into our drive. I wasn’t surprised. Mark is the kind of guy who never thinks bad of anyone. Because he likes and respects his boss, I’m sure he would never suspect him of anything inappropriate. “Well, he might not have realized it but I did and I moved it right back” I replied with as much conviction as I could muster. “I mean, I did it discretely so not to cause a scene but I was shocked by his forwardness”.
Had I told him the complete truth, it might have changed his opinion of his boss. He did put his hand on my leg under the table, just like I told Mark. And I did move it back, just like I told Mark. What I didn’t tell Mark is that when I used my hand to discretely move his bosses hand he quickly took my hand and placed it right on top of the biggest bulge I have ever felt in a man’s pants. I was, at the same time, shocked and wet with excitement.
Shocked, first that Mr. Lierman would do such a brazen thing and in the next instant, shocked at the apparent size of what must be behind that zipper. The source of the second shock is what brought on the instantaneous dampness in my lace panties.
You see…I have, for years harbored a secret desire for well-endowed men. Don’t get me wrong I love Mark and he is no shrimp in the size department. He is well above the national average you read about on the internet and is very apt at using it. The problem is Scott Simpson. He’s a guy I dated in college. And let me tell you, his size could embarrass a porn star and there are times I miss him. Well…not him so much, just his penis. He was as asshole with a huge penis and a huge ego to go with it. He was not marrying material but he sure could drive you wild.
And, while Mr. Lierman was no young college bahis firmaları stud, I considered him reasonably handsome for a man in his mid-40’s who appeared to be in reasonably good shape except for a slight paunch. A result, I’m sure, of letting his work cut into his time at the gym.
But the fact that Mr. Lierman was no GQ model didn’t prevent the opening of a flood-gate of memories I was sure I had filed away in the far recesses of my brain. Looking back, I might not have jerked my hand away quickly enough. I think I might have even given his manhood a slight squeeze before I moved it. Ok…ok…I know I did. In fact, I stroked it a couple of times before slipping my hand back into my own lap.
I know it was wrong. I know it makes me look like some kind of a slut. I know I was jeopardizing my marriage and Mark’s job but…damn, it was huge. But, it didn’t matter. I did move my hand back and pretended nothing had happened. The conversation continued and the party went on.
Nothing happened that is, until a few minutes later I felt his hand back on mine. He slowly eased it back into his lap and onto the monster sleeping there. I was in a panic. Torn between my faithfulness to my marriage and the desire that was suddenly re-awakened. I told myself if I just left my hand there everything would be fine. At least that is how I justified leaving it there. I’m not quite sure how I justified the squeezing and stroking that followed. I am sure however that I felt is grow in my hand to the point it must have been uncomfortable for him.
You would never know what was going on under the table by the way Mr. Lierman carried on conversation above the table. He and Mark were discussing something about the acquisition of some company in California when I felt his hand once more on my leg. While he was busy telling Mark about his opportunity to move up in the company, his hand was busy moving up my leg. By the time they had set a date to meet with the owner of the other company, his fingers were lightly stroking the lips of my now soaking wet pussy thru the lace of my panties.
I have to admit he was good. He was really good. He was at the same time, talking to my husband about plans to expand the company and driving me completely insane with his fingers. I knew I was going to have an orgasm any second. I also knew that I couldn’t let that happen. You see, I’m not the quietest person on earth when I cum.
I quickly removed my hand from his lap and, at the same time, slipped his hand from under my dress. Flush with need, I excused myself from the table and headed to the restroom. Luckily, there was no one else in the restroom. I locked myself in the farthermost stall, yanked my panties down and shoved two fingers into my aching pussy. Hoping the loud moans that I’m sure escaped my lips wasn’t heard in the hallway, I had a violent orgasm. My body shook as I collapsed onto the toilet seat, trying to recover my senses and my dignity.
What was wrong with me? Had I lost my mind? Two hours ago, I was the respectable wife of an up and coming sales manager and now I’m sitting in a restroom stall with two fingers buried in my pussy like a high school girl on prom night.
I had to get control of myself. I gathered myself, pulled up my panties, straightened my dress and left the restroom determined that I would once again become that respectable wife. I would put Mr. Lierman in his place and no one would be the wiser. Life would go back to being normal. My husband would do great things for his company and I would be his loving and supportive wife.
That determination lasted almost 30 minutes. Soon after I returned to the table the band started up and people began dancing. Being ever the gentleman, Mark asked Susan to dance with him. She accepted and they were soon absorbed into the growing crowd on the dance floor.
A coy smile on his face, Mr. Lierman said, “Well, I guess this means I should ask you to dance. Would you be so kind as to honor me with a dance?” I saw this as an opportunity to set him straight so I accepted.
Being ever the gentleman, he took my hand, bowed slightly, and kissed my hand before we moved together and began dancing. A mischievous smile crept onto his face. “Did you enjoy your orgasm?” I was so startled I stopped dancing and starred at him in disbelief. I was tempted to leave him standing and return to my seat. But, once again I was determined not to cause a scene. I gathered myself and slipped back into the dance. Putting on an innocent face I told him I had no idea what he was talking about.
He once again took my hand and kissed it. “I love the smell of a woman, even if it is second hand.” Oh dear. It dawned on me. I had been so flustered in the restroom I hadn’t taken time to wash my hands when I left and he could smell the remnants of my orgasm on my hand. Complete and utter embarrassment swept my body. I lowered my head, ashamed to even look him in the eye.
Chuckling softly, he tried to put me at ease. “Please don’t kaçak iddaa be embarrassed. I like a woman who is comfortable with her own body and responsive to its needs.” I gathered my resolve, raised my head to look him in the eyes and was ready to give him a piece of my mind when he cut me off.
“Do you want to see it?”
Trying to regain my dignity I asked the most obviously stupid question anyone has ever asked, “See what?”
“My penis, of course”, he replied matter-of-factly. “You seemed to enjoy the feel of it earlier so I thought you might want to see it.” I was taken aback by his casual attitude to something considered so personal. I hesitated because I didn’t know what to say. I knew I should ignore his question and continue on my quest to set him straight.
That’s what a normal, self-respecting woman would have done. So, I did what an otherwise normal self-respecting woman blinded by lust would do. I stammered. “Yes…I mean no…I …ahhh…I mean…I don’t know.” How do you even answer a question like that? My hesitation brought that evil smile back to Norman’s lips.
“Listen Ginger, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable but it seems to me that your curiosity was aroused at the table. I would never do anything to disrespect you or Mark but I find you very attractive and just had to find out if you are interested in exploring this any farther. I promise not to bother you any more tonight. I also promise that whatever you decide will not have any effect on Mark’s position with the company. Mark is a fabulous employee and I don’t want to lose him.”
I was speechless. “But… Mr. Lierman, what about Susan?” I asked, not wanting to be a home-wrecker for either family. “Please, call me Norman. And, please don’t worry about Susan. Whether it stops here or continues, I will not do anything to hurt Susan or Mark. Let me know if and when you decide. We should get back to the table before they miss us.” And that was the end of the conversation.
Norman kept his word. He was the perfect gentleman for the remainder of the evening. He gave out the awards to Mark’s team, making sure to lavish Mark with praise for leading the team. The evening ended in high spirits with plenty of drinks and dancing. I danced with some of the other husbands and, of course, several with Mark but Norman never asked for another dance that night.
Mark’s comment on the way home about his bosses’ hand on my leg put an end to the conversation. Mark paid the babysitter and I went to check to be sure the girls were tucked safely in bed.
We were both showered and I attacked Mark as soon as he came to bed. The sex that night was hot and steamy. But it always is for us. Even after 10 years of marriage, the sex with Mark hadn’t lost its edge. As I lay cuddling in the after-glow I couldn’t help but wonder how different it would be having sex with Norman.
How different would it be? He was obviously bigger than Mark but how was he in the sack? Was he gentle? Was he domineering? Was he an asshole like Scott Simpson? Are all men with large penises arrogant assholes? But the biggest question was, would I be able to fight the urge and forget about it. Those thoughts kept me awake long after Mark had drifted off to sleep.
I awoke the next morning feeling restless and ashamed. I felt like I had cheated on Mark, and on some level, I guess I had. I knew I had to forget last night and get on with my life. I have a wonderful, successful husband and two little girls to fill my life. I would brush it off as a passing incident that would never happen again.
Mark came home a couple of weeks later beaming with excitement. “We did it. The merger with the other company is complete. And guess what? Norman wants me to run the other company. I’m now officially a company Vice President. Norman wants us to come to his house Friday night for a celebratory dinner. Isn’t that great, Ginger!” he exclaimed as he picked me up and kissed me.
I was excited. I didn’t ask but I was certain the promotion came with a pay raise and certainly proved that Norman really did value Mark. I was bursting with pride for Mark and told him so. “That is so awesome, honey. What a great honor. I’m so proud of you. What should I prepare to take Saturday night?”
“Nothing according to Susan. She said they would grill some steaks and we could just relax and enjoy the evening. She did say to bring our swimsuits. They have a pool and hot tub and suggested we might enjoy a post-dinner dip.”
Now I was excited and nervous. I hadn’t been around Norman since the awards dinner and was beginning to feel a little apprehensive about seeing him again. Especially the part about swimsuits and the hot tub. I caught myself thinking, please god, don’t let Norman be wearing a speedo. I know I was being silly but I wasn’t sure how I would react to having his “endowment” so obviously on display.
We dropped the girls off at my parent’s house for an over-night stay and was at Norman and Susan’s at 6:00 pm. Susan kaçak bahis and I busied ourselves in the kitchen while Norman and Mark, drink in hand, covered the grilling duties. They were the perfect hosts.
The evening was going great. The steaks and salads were tasty and the drinks and wine flowed freely. The guys enjoyed an after-dinner drink on the patio while I helped Susan clean up. At Susan’s suggestion, we changed into our swimsuits before rejoining the men. I had brought a conservative, black two-piece that was appropriate for dinner at your husband’s bosses’ house.
Susan’s red suit, on the other hand, was hardly more than three pieces of strategically placed fabric held together by string. I suddenly felt over-dressed. We took a quick dip in the pool and then retired to the hot tub with a glass of wine. The guys got the hint and went to change.
As we slipped into the hot tub I noticed for the first time just how incredible a body Susan had and told her so. I instantly turned red with embarrassment when I realized I had just made it obvious I was checking another woman’s body. Susan didn’t seem to notice and returned the compliment, saying I also had an awesome body but said the suit I had on hid too much of it. She was apparently more comfortable and open with her body than I was.
Our conversation was interrupted by the return of the guys. I was sitting with my back to the door so I didn’t see them until they were standing above us. I was almost afraid to look. After seeing how revealing Susan’s suit was, I could only imagine what Norman would be wearing. I knew what Mark would have on. I had bought him a new swimsuit for tonight. I wasn’t so sure about Norman. Swallowing hard, I forced myself to look up. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him standing there, directly over me, in a baggy suit that hung almost to his knees.
That sigh of relief turned to instant panic when I realized that staring back at me, down the leg of Norman’s swimsuit, was his penis. Apparently, he had cut the netting out of his suit and I had an unobstructed view. What I saw made me instantly wet. I could see enough to know that what I had felt that night at the banquet was real. It was huge, it was uncut, and it was almost peeking out the leg of his swimsuit.
I caught a glimpse of a smile on Norman’s face as I looked away, trying to regain my composure. I looked at Mark to see if he had noticed but he was chatting with Susan and never noticed. Norman turned on the water jets and eased into the hot tub between us girls. Mark joined in, sitting between us on the other side. It was cozy and warm.
After a few minutes Norman got out to refresh our wine and get the guys another drink and a cigar. The mood mellowed as we relaxed and talked about families and life in general. The guys took turns refilling drinks. At some point Susan got out to make some snacks. Mark volunteered to help. As soon as the patio door closed, Norman looked at me and smiled wickedly.
“So…did you like what you saw?” Blaming it on the wine and the relaxing jets of the hot tub, this time I didn’t even try to pretend. Returning the wicked smile, I said, “You are such a devil. Yes…, of course I liked what I saw. It’s huge. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I had a feeling you would like it. Is it bigger than Mark’s?”
“Yes…of course. You know it is, you tease. It even looks bigger than Scott Simpson’s.” As soon as I said it, I realized he had no idea who Scott Simpson was. To answer his questioning look, I explained that Scott was a well-endowed guy I dated in college.
Norman moved closer and put his right arm around my shoulder. Taking my hand in his left, he placed it on his erection. It felt massive. I was hopelessly hooked. When he moved his hand away mine stayed, slowly massaging his penis. “So…you like big dicks, huh? Does Mark know about Scott? Have you ever had one that was uncut?” I should have been offended by his forwardness and his language. I should have gotten out of the hot tub, found Mark, and insist that he take me home.
But I didn’t. I stayed put. Lost is a sea of desire, I forgot everything except what was in my hand. Proving that I had completely lost touch with reality, I slid my hand down the leg of his swimsuit and back up inside, taking his monster in my hand. I gasped at the touch. It felt, at the same time, soft and pliable and hard as a rock. The feel of the fore-skin slipping back and forth as I stroked it was a new sensation for me.
I answered his questions in reverse order. “No, I have never had an uncut one. Yes, Mark knows about Scott. He knows that he’s not a big as Scott was but it doesn’t affect our marriage. And…yes, I love big penises. As a matter of fact, we use my experience with Scott as stimulus in our bedroom games. I have a toy that is close to Scott’s size and we sometimes…”
Realizing I had drifted off into a lust crazed story about our sex life while I stroked his penis, I stopped mid-sentence. The groan coming from Norman brought me back to present day. “You sometimes what?” asked Norman. “Oh nothing” I stammered, blushing, “just nothing.” His cock seemed to be growing in my hand. “Sometimes what” he persisted.