PETULA AND THE BOYS

It was quite a plum for Petula to accompany the crack presentation team to Chicago for the final conference with Apex International. But then she almost blew their chances for the contract by forgetting to bring some really crucial display materials. If it weren’t for old Sam, the silver fox of the sales staff, they would have crashed and burned. He saved the day with his outstanding spiel, and now the boys were celebrating in his hotel suite when Petula sashayed in.

Brunette, bright-eyed and ambitious, Pet was no raving beauty but she had a good figure and knew how to show it off in clingy outfits that dramatized her perky tits and outstanding ass that swivelled and swayed with the best of them. Just out of college, she had more ambition than sense.

“Sorry, guys,” she chirped, “but it all worked out, didn’t it? Hey, is anybody gonna offer the little girl a drink?”

“You don’t deserve a drink, babe,” tall, sandy-haired Carl said. “You almost scuttled us in that fucking meet.”

“Hey, take it easy on her. Everything turned out all right when she flashed the charm at those yahoos.” It was bald, stocky Roger sticking up for her as he grabbed a glass to pour her a shot of Jack Daniels. Newly divorced, he had been trying to get into Petula’s panties since she was hired two months ago, but she had fended him off, considering him old at 35 and neither handsome nor rich enough to make up for it. But now that he had come to her defense, he might be entitled to a second look, she thought.

Petula smiled, snatched the drink, and held her glass aloft. “Thanks, Roj, and here’s to us. We’re a team, right? We sure pulled it off.” She took a hefty swig.

Sitting at the side, 52-year-old Sam smiled and his wise eyes twinkled. “We pulled it off all right, but no thanks to you, Petula. Carl was right. You almost got us screwed. In fact, you were a naughty girl to forget to bring that crap we needed.”

“Get off it, Sam,” Roger urged. “Those Apex guys loved Petula. The only display we needed was her.”

Pleased at that, the girl finished her drink and got another. She felt at ease with the boys despite the fact that they were ragging her, and she wanted to get a little looped. As two drinks became three, and while Carl and Roger made some sexy remarks, Sam continued to concentrate on Petula’s goof-up.

“You know what happens to naughty girls, don’t you, Pet?” the older man asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

“So whatta you gonna do, Sam, spank me?” Feeling the liquor now, she strutted over to him, acting saucy.

Sam had put away enough booze by that time so that her challenge was too good for him to ignore. He grabbed Petula by an arm and she gasped as he pulled her down across his lap, her near-empty glass flying from her hand to tumble onto the carpet.

“Sam, are you nuts?” Carl yelled, coming over. “She’ll sue. Let her up!”

Sam laughed and petted the girl’s pert upturned bottom. “You won’t sue, will you, baby? You’re smart.” He pinched her skirt and began to pull it up. “Anyway, you want to be spanked, don’t you? Say spank me, Sam. Say it!”

Oh my God, Petula thought. Things were getting out of hand. The guys were drunk as skunks. But she did want to advance in the company. She wanted that more than anything, and Sam could do it for her. He had a lot of clout with the top brass. Also, it was a kick to get a little wild and crazy…especially with three guys. Two at a time had been her limit before.

“Well, take it easy, at least,” Petula whimpered as Sam pulled her skirt up to the small of her back, revealing her totally naked ass with a string between her beautifully rounded buttocks. She also wore sexy thigh-highs. Petula was very excited by the fact that three horny guys were looking at her.

While petting the girl’s ass with one hand, Sam pointed to the miniature recorder on the coffee table. They all had been listening to excerpts from the meeting. Now Carl caught on and punched the button on the device marked “Rec”.

“You invited me to spank you, didn’t you, Petula?” Sam said, stroking her shivery asscheeks, which sent excited impulses skittering through her.

“Well yes, but…”

“Say it, Petula. Say it or I won’t do it. Say spank me, Sam, if that’s what you want.”

“Oh shit, spank me!” Petula exclaimed, seeing it as a career move, at least.

“Spank me, who?”

“Spank me, Sam!”

“With pleasure,” Sam said and laughed as he brought his ham-like hand down smartly across her twin butt-cheeks, swatting them good and making them jiggle. The sound of his palm striking her flesh was sharp and erotic. The smacking blows stung Petula. She also blazed with embarrassed excitement. What a rush!

“Just let me know if this hurts,” Sam said as he kept spanking her, “because I don’t want to hurt you. We’re all having fun here, right? It’s a party.”

“Yes…ooh yesss,” Pet said, getting into the spirit of it now. “It’s a… party. Owwww!”

Smack! Smack! Smack! Sam spanked the girl, making her impudent asscheeks bounce and quiver, sending blasts of mixed pain and pleasure coursing through her.

“Do you like it?” Sam asked, his voice getting husky now, and Petula could feel the pressure of his risen prick against her tummy as she lay across his lap.

“Ooh shit, I love it!” she cried, and she did. She even liked the fact that the other guys were looking on because she had always been a latent exhibitionist.

As for stern Carl and easy-going Roger, they were both enjoying the show as they sat in nearby chairs, leaning forward, their peckers hard in their pants. This was too much, but they had no wish to stop it. Sam, always unpredictable, was outdoing himself today. The fact that the recorder was running saved them from any trouble the girl might otherwise cause, they felt sure. Party was party, and she was of age.

After Sam gave Petula’s asscheeks a nice rosy blush and made her hot enough to sizzle, he stretched the g-string panty out of her crack and yanked it off. He tossed it toward the guys who were seated nearby and Carl snatched the tiny garment in mid-aid, bringing it to his face for a sniff. What a great girly scent! His dong throbbed.

Sam was petting the young woman’s bottom soothingly now, and he said softly, “Daddy wants to kiss it and make it feel all better.”

Yes, she thought. Oh fuck yes! What a kick for Sam to kiss her ass!

He lifted her from underneath and boosted her onto the big strong coffee table that was nearby. He dropped to his knees on the carpet. Feeling terribly loose and wanton, Petula stuck her ass in the air as she pressed her chest against the table, and Sam began licking her punished butt all over. Oh yes, she kept thinking. That feels so fucking good, and the other guys are watching. What a blast!

By that time Carl and Roger were doing more than watching. Having continued to drink, the booze had taken a heavy hold on them and their inhibitions were shattered. The guys had unzipped their pants and let their eager cocks stick out. Now they were stroking themselves as they watched their older colleague run his tongue all over Petula’s luscious rear end.

As for the somewhat dismayed, slightly embarrassed, and totally thrilled young woman, Sam’s moist warm tongue was a benediction which salved the hurt in her heinie. Also it was a boot to realize that the top salesman in the company, who had given her such a bad time earlier, was actually licking her butt. Wow!

Sam extended his fingers up the sides of her buttocks with his thumbs underneath, and he squeezed and wobbled her supple half-globes while brushing his face back and forth across her crack. Petula breathed hard, wondering if he would venture so far as to lick between her asscheeks and kiss her right on the super sensitive
little opening of her ass. When he raised his head without doing that, she felt deprived.

On his feet now, Sam walked around in front of h
er. She rose to her hands and knees on the coffee table and waited for whatever he had in mind. She was putty in the hands of these men now.

Sam unzipped the back of her dress, letting it fall from her shoulders. She wore no bra, and her titties hung down. Standing in front of her face, Sam reached underneath to toy with her tits, brushing her nipples and making them tingle. He tugged down on the throbbing firm protrusions which were her nips, and all the while Petula stared at the front of his pants where there was a big hump.

He must have a monster cock, she thought. Yet he was in his fifties! Petula had never fucked such an old man. Or sucked one, either. She reached for his fly.

“What are you up to, baby?” Sam asked, still thinking of the recorder that was running.

“I’m gonna pull your zip down,” Petula said. “Isn’t that all right?” She was drunk enough to slur her words, not to mention the fact that her mind was in a jumble.

“What do you want to do?” Sam prodded.

“I wanta suck your cock!” Petula declared, feeling like the whore of Babylon and loving it.

“By all means,” Sam said with a smile and let her unzip his pants.

Petula reached in and swung out his log of a cock which pointed right at her pretty face. She parted her red lips and wrapped them around the knob of his gnarly old pecker. With her brain doing slow cartwheels and her pussy dribbling down her thighs, she began to suck Sam’s schlong. At the same time she sneaked a finger down her front to diddle and twiddle her hot little clit, making her cunt even juicier.

Crouching behind her, bald pudgy Roger admired the beauty of her ass and her slightly spread thighs. He caught the glisten of her cunt-lips and watched her lacquered fingertips playing with her passion bud. What a shame to make the girl do that all by herself, he thought, so he wedged his head, face upward, between the tops of her thighs which she then obligingly opened wider, and he began to lick her sweet pussy. He felt as if he had died and gone to heaven.

Petula was totally dismayed for letting herself get orgied like this, but what a blast! Ambition wasn’t motivating her now as much as wild sexual arousal, turned loose by the alcohol that was streaming through her veins. Roger sucked and chomped at her slippery, tasty cunt-lips while she sucked Sam’s cock all the harder, taking it to her throat. He growled and wiggled his thick dick between her encircling lips. She reached into his pants to play with his balls.

Carl, who had merely been looking on as he slowly stroked his long, skinny dick, decided to get into the act and he moved up next to Sam. “Share the wealth, buddy,” he said, rubbing his cockhead against Petula’s cheek.

Sam reluctantly pulled out of her mouth, which made a sucky popping sound. A swaying strand of her saliva extended from her lips to his boner as he backed away. He restrained Carl from taking immediate advantage, tapping him on the arm and again pointing at the recorder. Petula hadn’t noticed any of these cues nor did she realize that a recorder was running.

“Petula baby,” Sam said, “tell us what you want.”

“Oh shit, you know,” she said and reached for Carl’s magic wand.

Sam restrained her. “Yeah, but tell us. We want to make sure you’re into this as much as we are.”

“I want to suck Carl’s cock,” Petula said. “I wanta suck ALL of your cocks!”

“So you like to suck cock, do you, baby?”

“I LOVE to suck cock!” Petula exclaimed.

Sam laughed and let her draw Carl’s slender dick to her waiting lips. They didn’t have a thing to fear from this girl, Sam decided.

He stood beside the coffee table and slowly stroked his dingus while watching Carl get his boner blown and Roger gobbling between Petula’s legs. Finally he decided it was time for more serious action and said, “Roj, get the fuck outa there.”

Since seniority equaled rank and rank had its privileges, Roger regretfully backed away, allowing the older man to take an action stance behind Petula’s ass.

“May we fuck you, Petula?” Sam asked loudly, so that the recorder could hear.

“Glawgh,” she said, her mouth full of Carl’s cock.

“Quit sucking Carl for a minute and tell me: May we fuck you?”

“We?” Petula asked, her brain spinning around.

“Yes. All of us.”

“Not all at the fucking same time,” Petula said.

“No, we’ll take our turns.”

“Then yes!” Feeling totally giddy, she put Carl’s cock back into her mouth and thought, what a terrible slut I am!

Sam grasped the shaft of his tool and wiggled its knob in Petula’s soft passion pit. Finding the way, he gave a thrust and sank his eight inches in her warm, tight, wet, slippery hole. With his prick projecting from the fly of his pants, he started to stroke in and out of Petula while she tried to concentrate on sucking Carl’s dong. But the gliding hardness in her pussy stuffed her to perfection and surged so fucking deep that she had to jerk her mouth free and pant for breath. She moaned.

Seeing her mouth unoccupied for the moment, Roger moved around and fed her his dick while Carl stepped aside and watched his colleague get a blowjob. Meanwhile Sam kept pumping his piston in and out, in and out of her happy hole. After a bit they changed positions, Carl getting dibs on her pussy while Sam moved to her mouth and Roger stood by.

Petula was having the time of her life, Lord help her! She was totally out there, wallowing in the licentious freedom which Sam and the guys had offered her. Of course, the alcohol was her propellant. Never discount the booze.

Sam let her suck his big prick and lick it up and down, then kiss just the tip, then pull his balls out of his pants and lick them. It was odd that none of the men took their pants off. They just serviced Petula and pleased themselves while letting their dicks stick out of their flies and letting their balls dangle loose as well. Speaking of dangling, Petula’s tits were doing nothing but that while each man in turn had a feel of them but nobody took a suck. Shame, because they were quite suckable titties.

Carl returned to fuck her mouth some more while Roger finally was able to slip his dick into her pussy. He pumped in and out, in and out, and got very excited. Pet was ready to reach for a climax as well and worked with him, fingering her pussy at the same time. She came and her spasming vagina clutched Roger’s cock. He spurted. Oh shit, I hope she’s using protection, he worried.

Sam took sloppy seconds, getting into heavy goo when he reentered Petula’s cunt. That would be good for what he planned next, he thought as he worked up a good coating on his dork. Pinching her buttocks wide apart, he gazed at her cute little asshole while continuing to stroke slowly and steadily in and out of her natural fuckway just below it. The stretching of her buttocks barely opened her bunghole at all, and Sam could see that it needed a lot of pre-conditioning.

He stopped fucking her, backed up, and bent to press his face between her asscheeks. After drooling saliva over her pooper, he proceeded to licked the little puckered aperture. She tasted fine, and he screwed his tongue into her butt. Still very tight, she needed finger action.

Sam reached forward to pet her cheek and urge her away from Carl’s poontanger long enough for him to stick his middle finger in her mouth and gather as much saliva on it as he could. This he brought back to her rear, and he twisted his finger into her ass. That went smoothly enough, and he proceeded to wiggle his finger round and round, widening and relaxing her sphincter.

By this time Pet was looking over her shoulder, apprehensive about what would happen. She had never been buggered, and she didn’t want to be. But she was very giddy and had lost all of her moorings. Sam
pulled his finger out of her asshole and re-introduced his prick into her pussy, freshening its greasy coating, then before Pet had a chance to marshal
whatever resistance she could find, Sam shoved his big tallywhacker up her rump. His wide knob was fully inside her asshole, her sphincter clamping just behind his ridge.

“Yeeeooowww!” Petula cried because the stretching of her little opening hurt.

“Just relax, babe,” Sam soothed. “Groove with it.” Groove? Well, he was a ’70s guy.

He began to move a little, stroking slowly in and out of her tight virgin ass. Petula panted and moaned. Sam gradually gave her more dick, moving carefully. After a bit she was taking his thick shaft all the way to his balls and loving it.

“Oooh God, that’s something else!” she cried. “I’m being skewered!”

“Do you want me to take my cock out of your butt?” Sam growled as he stroked, really fucking her asshole now.

“Noooh!” Petula bellowed. “Ooh God, noooh! Fuck it, you bastard!”

“Fuck what?” Sam was still thinking of the recorder which continued to run.

“Fuck my fucking ass, you dirty mother-fucker!” Petula cried.

Again she snapped her ravenous mouth around Carl’s cock and there she was, all fours on the big strong coffee table with one man standing behind her and one at her face, and she was getting her ass and mouth fucked at the same time.

This was too good for either guy to last much longer. Carl was the first to call it quits, and he let go in Petula’s mouth, spurting burst after burst of thick warm cream over the back of her tongue and down her throat. She swallowed it all.

As soon as Carl backed off, Petula began rubbing, pinching, and pulling at her clit, desperate to reach another orgasm while Sam fucked her butt. He growled and groaned as he pumped his thick prick in her patootie. Once he pulled all the way out, with a loud sucking sound, and gazed at the gaping dark hole. Then before her wide-open asshole had a chance to close up, he shoved his cock back in and resumed fucking.

His tension increased, as he fucked faster and faster. Petula yelled, and suddenly Sam’s balls gave up their treasure, the jism rising into the tube of his cock. He jerked in the tight grip of her asshole and spurted deep into her butt. This totally new sensation catapulted the dizzy girl over the top, and her anus rippled around his rod. Petula shook all over, moaning in orgasm as her rectum received his load.

Later, after they had all cleaned up, they continued their serious drinking in celebration of the successful business trip. But for Petula, the personal side of it proved more important. She had learned, matured, and…oh, yes…she got herself a nice promotion. As for the recording that Sam made, nobody ever heard it…except single Sam, on lonely nights when his phone didn’t ring and he lacked the ambition to patrol the bars.

A handy self-help device it was, just like this little story perhaps…