Those five bright smiles lit up the meeting room. One of them belonged to the girl who would become the twenty-third Miss Tru-Bolt. She would win a full ride scholarship to one of Mr. Breeman’s favorite schools or the equivalent in cash. For one year she would meet with Tru-Bolt salesmen and customers around the country proclaiming the virtues of Tru-Bolt products. With the upcoming corporate expansion, there was even the possibility of international travel.
The remaining four would be designated as runners up and returned to whatever they had been doing before entering the contest. It probably meant they would be cuing up to enter yet another beauty contest. By now all of them had been entering such contests as long as they could remember. Cute little four year olds had become darling little eight year olds. By the time they were ten or twelve, little bumps and hips had begun to take shape. They had continued to develop from cute to beautiful, from little girls to ripe maidens.
Each beauty contest or pageant had been a learning experience. Today they showed themselves to be nearing the height of maturity for pageant entrants. They were able to smile unendingly. Their voices were properly modulated, their dresses, gowns, or swim suits had been fitted to show off their best features.
Now they waited, each smiling, each with a collection of butterflies in her stomach awaiting the outcome of the judges’ voting. At Tru-Bolt, the judges were the five regional sales managers. It was one of their perks. They got to help select who would be in the pageant and got to vote at each stage of the pageant. Now they were voting on which of the girls would win the top prize.
The girls stood in an uneven row. Left leg slightly bent and slightly in front of the right. Even though this was the Casual Clothing Event, all but # 2, a twenty year old named Candy, had a slit in her skirt up to the waist permitting a breathtaking view.
There would be more great views as the girls changed from casual outfits to formal business attire, to gowns to swimsuits to casual business attire. But, the five bright smiles would remain. They would remain no matter what. Even when the winner had been announced, the losing four would retain their bright smiles.
No small part of the judges’ voting was based on the fact that they would have to put up with the girl they selected as she attended sales meetings and met with customers. She could be a real asset especially with reluctant customers. “This won’t be a time when we are selling our products, Mr. Customer. We just want you to meet this year’s Miss Tru-Bolt.” The pitch would go on about how the company was helping this girl make something of herself. Sometimes it would include a mention that the lass in question had shown real interest in the customer’s business or industry.
Sufficiently lulled into accepting the invitation the customer would meet the girl at a company function. Perhaps it would be a dinner or a picnic. The girl would be sufficiently prepped on the customer and his business that she could converse intelligently with him. Her dress and posture during their meeting would show him that not only was this a bright girl who was interested in his business, but also a girl that was interested in him personally.
There was a good chance that the customer would have an opportunity to view her charms quite closely. At a second or third meeting it was very possible that the customer might even spend some very intimate time with her. Through all of this the girl could not freak out. Even if the customer was not physically appealing, she was expected to do her part to make the sale. The managers wanted to be sure that the girl they selected tonight wouldn’t give them a hard time when they needed her to be her most charming and persuasive.
To that end each of the girls had undergone vetting they hadn’t experienced before for any of the other pageants they’d entered. This was something so important that Mr. Breeman handled it himself.
Each girl was interviewed by him with her mother present. “Mrs. Pageant Entry Mother, we need to be sure that the girls have not had any surgery, cosmetic or otherwise, etc., etc. Would you please have your daughter remove her clothing so we can be sure?”
If they packed up and left, that was the end of the pageant for them. If they complied, the interview went further. Mr. Breeman would praise the beauty of the young lady even as she was forced by her mother to strip naked in front of him. Once naked he would handle the girl running his hands over her entire body taking special interest in her breasts, lifting them, massaging them, and inspecting her nipples. He would look into her wrinkled rear entrance as well as checking to see that the more normal entrance was also well cared for. He would probe to see if she seemed to be a virgin. Though it was not essential, it was noted on her entry forms. A virgin could often bring in a sizable sale.
He would examine her other sensitive parts as well. Many mothers may have wanted to say, “What does her clit have to do with sales meetings and customers,” but most knew what her clit had to do with sales meetings and customers. Those latter mothers were allowed to keep their girls in the pageant. Those who had questions were excused. A four year full ride scholarship had real value. Girls were not hard to find.
It was not unusual for Mr. Breeman to examine the mother as well. Often this examination occurred in another room. Occasionally, however, the prospective pageant entrant was required to be present.
Those who were selected for the pageant met the regional managers who explored further their willingness to help with a sale. Each of these men had their own ideas of what this interview would entail. The five who were found to be the crème de la crème became the finalists.
Those finalists stood in front of the sales managers and the sales force now. One would be selected.
From their seats the judges marked sheets on the table in front of them.
“The next event is the Ballroom Gown Event,” Mr. Breeman said into his mike. Feedback from the mike was so sudden and intense that even a few bright smiles faltered.
Just finished had been the Formal Business Attire Event meant to show what the girls looked like when they were in formal situations with customers. No other pageant required a costume like this. Each of them had thought hard about what type of dress would win over the judges. Should it be a suit, a skirt and blouse, a pantsuit, like Hillary wears. Without any direction they had chosen different wardrobes hoping theirs would be the most appealing. Most focused on thin blouses that provided enchanting views. This might have been accompanied by a skirt short enough that it provided its own view as she sat or bent over.
The ballroom gown event was one with which they were far more familiar. Their escort, a young man materialized and escorted the girls back to a dressing area. He left them there to change into the their ball gowns.
They all jumped into action as soon as the door closed trying to make the change without damaging hairdos, requiring too much make-up repair, or getting make-up on their clothes.
In what felt like record time the the young man returned materializing as a head stuck in through a suddenly opened door. He opened it just enough to stick his head into the room and announce, “OK, come on back.”
When he saw that they were all dressed, he was disappointed. He had hopped that when he suddenly opened the door at least some would be in their underwear if not totally naked. He had been overly optimistic, but young men often are.
He opened the door all the way and waited as they lined up. He led them back to the stage. He wished he could have been behind them to watch as their gowns swished with the movement of their hips. It was cruel that he had an assignment which brought him so close to these lovely girls, but didn’t allow him to touch.
The judges were settled back at the judges table. They looked up at the girls, smiling as they lined up on the stage. They were no longer asked questions designed to demonstrate their knowledge and insight. There were no problem solving exercises. And there were no women either in the audience or as judges. All that was required of them was that they display the most appealing and, perhaps, available tits and ass. They were used to it and they did everything they could to present the requisite charms.
Mr. Breeman picked up the mike and began directing the girls. Turn this way, turn that way, walk, stand, etc. Wendy looked at Mr. Breeman as he spoke remembering her initial meeting with him.
They had met in the beautifully appointed office Mr. Breeman used when he interviewed young lades. The interview seemed to have gone well when Mr. Breeman took Wendy’s mother aside. Wendy watched the whispered conversation. She saw her mother seem to swallow hard several times. Finally her mother turned and said, “Honey, Mr. Breeman needs to see more of you.” Wendy had started to turn to let him view her from other angles. “Actually,” her mother interjected, “he needs to see you without your clothes.”
Wendy had looked at her mother, then at Mr. Breeman. Her mother was trying to look non-committal as though this was neither unexpected or unusual. And, true, there had been other incidents so it wasn’t completely without precedent. It was just so blunt.
She looked at Mr. Breeman. He was openly leering. Others had been coy trying to hide what they were asking for. Once when asked for something like this, her mother had just pulled her out of the room and left. That wasn’t happening now. Wendy knew there was a lot of money at stake here.
“I’ll help,” Mr. Breeman had said as he began to pull her blouse from her skirt.
“I can do it,” she’d stammered.
“I insist,” he’d said. He continued pulling the blouse up forcing her to extend her arms upward. It came off over her head, still buttoned. He tossed it to Wendy’s mother. Wendy stood still realizing that she was about to be stripped naked. And that he wanted as much to strip her as he did to see her naked. There was little point in her doing anything.
He continued. Her skirt was next. “Step out of your sandals,” he’d said. She did pushing them aside.
She wore no socks. She stood in panties and bra while he assessed her. She knew this was only a pause. He would remove everything. She’d have to stand naked in front of this man and her mother. She knew he would grope her perhaps hurting her as he pinched her nipples and inserted a finger in her pussy. She waited as he looked her over.
He knelt in front of her. He found the elastic of her panties and pulled them slowly past the entrance to her pussy. She had taken care to shave it knowing that if this were to happen, the man stripping her would want to see a pussy that was clean shaven. She was. Her lips were a bit puffy and reddened from his attentions. She was already quite nervous and this was making it worse, much worse.
She held her breath as he moved her lips apart. He moved the little hood that covered her clit. She looked away. She felt him move closer. His warm breath felt obscene as it enveloped her pussy. Then was startled to feel his tongue on her clit. She jumped. He grabbed her ass pulling her into his face. She stumbled awkwardly into him. He held her tightly by the ass pulling her into his face.
She steeled herself against having any positive feeling, but was not totally successful. He knew what he was doing.
He stopped before her hips gave her away. She was a bit wet, but at least she wasn’t dripping.
He stood wiping his face. He turned her around and found the catch for her bra. It fell away. His hands were immediately on her breasts.
As he explored her breasts and then the rest of her body, there was only the sound of his breathing in the room. He turned her around and around slowly as he touched her everywhere. She tried to look straight ahead through it all.
“Molly,” he said suddenly, “look in that drawer and bring me some lube and one of the smaller devices.” He was pointing to drawer in a walnut cabinet, a fine piece of furniture, obviously lovingly cared for.
Hesitantly Molly got up and opened the drawer. Wendy could hear her as she sorted through the drawer’s contents. She looked as her mother handed the items to Mr. Breeman. He looked at what she brought and asked for another in addition. She found another and handed it to him.
“OK, Wendy, lean over this table. Just put your hands on it like this.” He demonstrated by putting his hands flat on the table and leaning until his back was parallel with the floor.
With concern she did as she was directed. “Molly,” he said, “let’s put some lube on her. Let me know when you think she’s ready.” As he said this he spread her cheeks apart revealing the small wrinkled opening.
“You want me to do it,” Wendy’s mother said surprised.
“Sure, why not,” he responded jovially. “I’ll keep these cheeks apart for you.”
Wendy felt cold fluid on her asshole. “Use your finger to get it well worked in,” he advised her mother.
“Just relax honey,” her mother had said, “so I can get my finger in.”
She’d relaxed as much as she could. Her mother had added more and more lube until it ran down her legs. She worked her finger in but as she did, Wendy heard Mr. Breeman say, “Work it in further, further.”
Wendy struggled wanting to get the finger out, but her mother kept pushing it in. Finally, she stopped.
“Now,” said Mr. Breeman, “see how easily that small device goes in.”
Wendy heard her mother take a deep breath then felt a cold, blunt object at her entrance. Molly pushed and the dildo slid in without effort. “Twist the base and it will turn on,” Mr. Breeman advised. She did and Wendy’s eyes opened wide as the device created a sensation she’d never experienced before.
As her hips twisted in reaction to the dildo, Mr. Breeman began to massage her clit. No longer was she able to appear uninvolved. She opened her mouth wide and sucked air rapidly into her lungs as the feelings mounted. He continued until her head hit the table accompanied by a series of small cries.
A few drops fell onto the carpet.
“Very good,” Mr. Breeman murmurred.
Molly gently extracted the dildo and turned it off.
“Great,” Mr. Breeman said, “now put a couple of fingers in there.”
“Put two fingers in there,” her mother had said in disbelief.
“Sure,” he’d responded.
Without argument she pressed two fingers against her asshole. “Relax,” said her mother pushing harder and harder until they slid inside. Wendy squirmed. She wanted to complain that it hurt, but she figured that nothing would end until the finger was all the way in, so held her peace.
Mr. Breeman released her cheeks. He found her clit and began to stimulate it again. “Molly,” he said in a low voice. “Fuck her ass with your fingers. She’s really going to like this.” Her mother began to move those two fingers in and out while Mr. Breeman stroked her clit with one hand and her breasts with the other. As she bent over the table her body twisted and jerked again. The discomfort was giving way to arousal. As her hips twisted and bucked in response, her breasts swayed appealing.
Five minutes passed, then ten as they worked together. Wendy’s breathing became deeper, then more rapid. When she could hold it no longer, she once again began a series of short cries. The cries grew longer and louder until her legs would no longer support her and she collapsed on her knees on Mr. Breeman’s luxurious carpet, panting.
“Thought you’d like that,” Mr. Breeman had said. Then he’d leaned over and turned her on her back. She lay down only to see Mr. Breeman pull his cock out. Before she could gather her wits enough to move he knelt between her legs and fell forward on her naked body.
“Molly,” his voice was muffled as he nuzzled the curve of Wendy’s neck, “work my cock into your daughter’s pussy.”
Molly complied and Wendy felt Breeman’s cock slide in her pussy. Her mother watched as Mr. Breeman fucked her daughter.
He whispered as he lay with his face against her ear breathing in her aroma after he shot his load deep inside her, “You are one fine piece of ass.”
He lay still for several minutes then struggled to his feet working his pants off in the process. Once standing he stripped the remainder of his clothes. Naked he looked at Molly. Not so long ago it was Molly who was paying the entrance fees as she or her daughter was measured up to be queen or this or that. She was older now, but no man missed the charms that had earned her prize after prize or her daughter unquestioned pageant acceptance.
She was ready to do what had to be done to get Wendy this prize. Returning his gaze she made a tentative move toward the first button her blouse. Wendy watched wide-eyed. Mr. Breeman smiled and nodding moved behind her. Stroking her breasts through her blouse, he softly spoke into her ear encouraging her.
Still lying on the floor naked Wendy had watched as Mr. Breeman nuzzled her mother while she unbuttoned her blouse. Her blouse fell open. Mr. Breeman stroked her flat belly and her breasts. He slipped the catch on her bra, but she caught it before it fell from her breasts. She turned her head and said quietly, “Let’s not have Wendy watch.”
“Oh, I want her to watch,” he said with finality. Molly’s face fell. She stiffened. He continued exploring her body without urgency. Finally, conceding, Molly allowed the bra to fall. He removed the blouse and Molly stood half naked in front of her daughter while Mr. Breeman continued his explorations. Each knew it would end with Breeman’s cock deep inside Molly filling her with his seed.
“Honey,” he said after a bit, looking at Wendy, “strip your mom down so we can all get a good look at her pussy.”
Without enthusiasm Wendy rose to her knees and crawled over to where her mother stood. Her back was pressed against the naked Breeman. Breeman’s hands molded and stroked her breasts. She found the catch and zipper. The skirt dropped. Wendy lowered the panties with respect. They joined the pile of clothing along with her shoes. Molly stood naked still pressed tightly to Breeman.
Breeman let his hand slide from her breast across her nipple and down her belly until it was exploring her clit. Molly opened her legs further as if to facilitate his search. With a thumb on her clit and a finger inside her he began pumping and rotating. She lifted her head resting it on his shoulder as he stimulated her breasts and pussy. She arched her back.
Wendy watched no longer concerned for their situation. She watched him prepare her mother to be fucked.
Wendy’s mom’s hips undulated as Breeman’s fingers kept up the assault on her body. Wendy watched her mom’s nipples swell and harden.
“Lie down,” he whispered helping her to the carpeted floor. “Wendy, it’s your turn. Take my cock and guide it into your mom.”
On her knees Wendy took Breeman’s cock and guided it into her mom. It twitched as she took it in her hand directing the head toward her mom’s widely splayed pussy. As she inserted the head Breeman’s hips crashed forward trapping her hand between his body and her mother’s pussy. She extracted it and lay on the floor watching as Breeman’s cock pumped in and out of her mom. She found her own clit. She stroked and rubbed never taking her eyes off the sight of her mom being fucked.
Her reverie broke as she heard Mr. Breeman call the escort over. During their short conversation he could be seen waving his hand toward the back of the stage. At this the girls’ smiles broke. They began to turn as if to follow the escort. At the same time the moms began to stand.
“Girls are going to the back. Moms stay here, “Mr. Breeman called out his voice level obviating the need for a mike. The moms sat as the girls lined up facing the stage exit behind them. Their escort who had been seated near the judging table crossed the stage and took the lead. “Be sure they have drinks and something to eat,” Breeman called after him. “Bring the moms something as well.” He went back to his conference with the sales managers. One was left to wonder why he ever used a microphone.
As an afterthought he buzzed the changing room and told the escort to let him know when the girls were ready. The escort told Mr. Breeman he would handle it.
Handle it he would. The next event was the swim suit event. This was probably his best chance to see the girls as they changed.
The room was abuzz with the girls’ conversations. The escort made no move to leave. Instead he sat in an upholstered chair, one of those used by the moms, but there were no mom’s here now, he thought. Candy looked at him with some befuddlement. “Are you going to sit there while we change?” He sat for a moment trying to think of a legitimate reason why he should stay, when Wendy interceded for him. “I’ll bet he’s never seen a girl naked. How about it . . .?” She stumbled without a name. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Paul,” he said his face reddening.
“He’s kinda cute,” Jane offered. “So, what about it, Paul, ever seen a girl naked?”
“Uh, well, uh . . . ,” he began.
“So the answer is no. Right?” Candy had taken up the interrogation. All five of the girls had gathered in a semicircle around where Paul sat.
“No,” he admitted sheepishly.
“Let’s give him a thrill,” Jane said with a smirk and unzipped the zipper on the side of her gown. Paul’s eyes widened. His breathing quickened. He became lightheaded as he watched. She was going to take off her gown!
“Wait a minute,” Wendy said softly, then whispered something to Jane. Jane nodded agreement. The two girls called the other three to the back of the room where they had a quick conference. Several minutes later the five returned smiling. The smiles were not the bright smiles they used in the pageant, these looked almost malevolent.
Paul cringed. It didn’t seem that this would be good. He feared he was not going to get to see anyone naked. Wendy said, “Look Paul we’re considering letting you see us naked, but you have to do something for us.”
“OK,” he said warily.
“You’ll do what we ask,” Wendy probed.
“Well, what is it,” Paul parried.
“Simple,” Wendy began her explanation. “We want you naked so we don’t feel that you just want to look without giving us the same chance. Like giving us something in return. That OK with you?”
Paul was still wary. “Well, OK, but . . . “
“You’re right,” Wendy interrupted, “we want to see your butt too. The only small catch, and it is a small one, is that you have to take your clothes off first. That’s just so you won’t renege after we get our clothes off. Will you do that for us.” She rubbed her fingers lightly on his head and face. “Come on, I’ll help.”
Before Paul could decide whether this was a good idea or not, she knelt in front of the chair. Carefully she undid the knot on his tie then began unbuttoning his dress shirt. As she leaned into her task Paul was treated to a full view down the front of her gown. She wore no bra since the dress was designed to be worn without one. It had just enough give in front that he could see almost down to her nipples.
Wendy noticed his eyes focused on her breasts. She stopped working on the buttons and pulled the bodice of the gown forward even more. “Do you like what you see,” she asked pleasantly.
“Yes,” Paul responded weakly never taking his eyes from her breasts. How cute, she thought, he’s even beginning to sweat a little.
Gently raising his chin with one finger so their eyes could meet, something of a challenge, she noted, she asked, “Is your dad here?”
Now, actually looking her in the eyes, he answered quite proudly, “Yes, I’m Paul Tyson, Jr. My dad’s Southwest Regional Manager.”
“He’s the one wearing cowboy boots,” she noted aloud. “How old are you, Paul junior?”
“I just turned 18,” he said puffing himself up a bit as he sat in the upholstered chair. His eyes quickly returned to her breasts.
She shrugged her bodice back slightly. The motion covered the tips of her breasts. Disappointed his eyes returned to look into hers. “Well, Paul junior, I’m not sure that you’re old enough to look at a naked girl. Are you still in high school?”
“I graduate this year,” he said defensively, clearly unhappy with this turn of events. “How old do you have to be to look at a girl, . . . you know, . . . without . . . her . . . clothes?” He stammered and struggled to finish the sentence. He plowed ahead, “I think I’m old enough. I’ve seen the magazines my dad has. I even saw a video he has.” Immediately he cut his eyes away as the general atmosphere in the room cooled at the mention of magazines and videos. He knew he was in trouble and experience had taught him that the best idea when you have your foot in your mouth is to just shut up while you attempt to extract it.
Wendy looked at him appraisingly. He was still sweating, but maybe she thought they’d had enough fun with him. They did have to change and no one knew how much time they’d have until they were called back to the stage. She stood and called the others to another quick discussion. They agreed to let him watch as they changed as long as he would be naked the whole time. They also agreed that they would all help each other get ready since their mothers had not been permitted to accompany them to the dressing room.
Wendy returned to where Paul sat waiting. “Paul junior, we think it would be OK for you to watch. We are concerned about your age. We would feel a lot better about it if we could see that you have a real man’s . . . ah . . . penis.” She was surprised at how difficult it was for her to say out loud in front of everybody any word that referred to a man’s cock. She’d never said penis out loud before. With her friends and in her thoughts, it was always a cock.
He nodded thoughtfully. “Go ahead and get your clothes off, we need to start getting ready.” She reached out to him and, taking his arm, encouraged him to stand. “Come on now, we don’t have a lot of time.”
Paul hurriedly undressed revealing modest, but nicely muscled chest and arms. Nothing to swoon over, but not bad. Disappointingly he wore plain white briefs which were bulging appropriately. At this final moment he hesitated. “Come on, we’re in a hurry,” Wendy said matter-of-factly, but watching closely. They all were, Paul noted. Every girl was waiting to give judgment on his cock. He couldn’t remember being so nervous.
With an audible breath, he pulled his briefs off. His cock jumped out, but instead of letting them have a proper viewing, he covered it with his hand and quickly sat again. Wendy took his arm, then decided on the offending hand instead. She picked it up and set it on the arm of the chair. The cock had withered some. She moved his other hand to the arm of the chair as well. “Leave your hands there,” she admonished him. Then reaching down she grabbed his cock at its head and attempted to pull it to an upright position. Paul jumped and attempted to avoid her by moving back further in the chair. He looked quite uncomfortable. Some said later that he actually looked frightened. Nonetheless he kept his hands on the arms of the chair.
Wendy released her grip. “I suppose it will stand up on it’s own after a while,” Wendy commented having turned to the others. “We’ll just have to wait and see.” She turned back to Paul with a scowl and made a point of looking directly at his lap while she unzipped her dress.
“Jane, little help please,” she said over her shoulder. Jane took hold of the dress and with Candy protecting Wendy’s hair, helped get the dress off. All of this took place facing Paul who stared open mouthed.
“Thanks,” Wendy said to her assistants looking, however, at Paul. She stood in front of him half naked. Now she watched his lap as she began to remove her panties. Any questions about whether Paul’s cock could stand on it’s own had already been answered. It began to throb as Wendy’s panties slowly revealed a fully shaved pussy. He gripped the arms of the chair tightly. His cock throbbed.
Candy was next. They had agreed to give him a view one at a time to improve his concentration. It wouldn’t be a strip tease. They were under pressure to be ready whenever they were called. Candy was able to have Jane unzip her. From here the dress fell forward. The naked Wendy kept it from falling to the floor and provided a steadying hand so Candy could step out.
She stood in front of Paul in bra and panties, but wasted no time finishing her disrobing task. She handed the bra to Wendy, then quickly removed her panties. Paul’s eyes widened. It was the second pussy in less than five minutes.
Candy carried off her clothes and was immediately replaced by Jane. They were all in a hurry now, not knowing when they would be called, but she slowed enough to put a show on for Paul. She teased him holding up her unzipped dress. Slowly she allowed the bodice slide down her body. On either side a naked Wendy and a naked Candy danced to unheard music as Jane stripped. Candy caught her dress as it fell from her hips. She took the dress away while Wendy snuck up behind Jane and released the catch on her bra. Jane took the prank in stride catching the bra just after it’s absence had exposed her to Paul. Wendy finished the process by pressing her naked body tightly against Jane’s back. The two danced together trying desperately to get into some kind of rhythm. Wendy took Jane’s breasts in her hands briefly then ran her hands down Jane’s body seductively as they struggled to dance together. On encountering her panties, Wendy hooked her thumbs inside the waistband and slowly pulled them off as Jane continued her music-less dance.
Wendy stood, Jane’s panties held high. The three naked girls danced for a few more seconds then fell into each other’s arms laughing uproariously. Paul sat unable to believe his good fortune. His cock was so hard it hurt.
Time was short so Patricia grabbed Paige’s hand and the two of them did a similar version of the music-less dance as they stripped each other more for their own delight than Paul’s. Naked now, all five did a semblance of a dance that threatened to knock over chairs and dressing tables. Breathless, they finally turned toward Paul who was still maintaining a painful hard on.
“I know what he needs,” Wendy laughed. She grabbed Paul’s hand and placed it on her breast while reaching for his cock. She knelt in front of him. While the others watched she began to stroke Paul. Her mere touch could have been enough, but having her stroke him while he held her breast was all that was necessary. Cum shot from his cock to the cheers of the girls. Wendy kept stroking succeeding in milking much more cum from his straining cock.
One of the girls threw a towel which hit him squarely in the face. Wendy used it to wipe her hand then grabbed her swim suit and began the process of makeup repairs for the next round. Paul, still in disbelief, wiped himself down. He knew he should dress, but he hesitated.
The girls got their swim suits on quickly enough, but the makeup and repairs to hairdos took longer. When the call still had not come, they turned to Paul. Jane stared at his upright cock and said, “Paul, you better not have that hard on when you lead us back in. Whatever would people think?”
Paul squirmed uncomfortably. He had no idea how he was going to get rid of his hard on.
The call came about fifteen minutes later. Paul had been watching the girls as they primped, a touch of makeup here, hair spray there. He was still marveling that they had actually stripped naked for him and that one had actually let him touch her and she had jerked him off. He had been trying not to think about it since it kept his cock hard, but it had not been a forgettable event.
Once the call came, he dressed and felt he had his hard on under control. Now he was prepared to lead them back to the stage. “I must have something twisted,” Jane said obviously frustrated, “would you look, Paul. If one of the girls does it, she’ll get this body makeup on her hands. I’ll have to fix my makeup and she’ll have to wash her hands.”
It was twisted. The strap between the cups of her bikini top was twisted. The girls gathered around pointing out the problem to Paul. “What should I do,” he asked staring now at Jane’s beautiful breasts. She had put a light makeup on them to achieve a more even coloring and cover tan lines.
“You’ll have to take the top off, straighten it, and put it back on,” Patricia told him. They stepped back from Jane to allow him some space. “Be careful not to muss the make-up,” Jane said.
“Hurry up,” someone chimed in, “we don’t want to keep them waiting.
In fact they didn’t care about keeping them waiting. They were pissed about this event and knew that one would win and the others would go home regardless of how long they kept those horny salesmen waiting. What they wanted was to see how hard they could get Paul. Having a huge bulge in his pants as he led them in would be quite comical they had agreed.
He unfastened the back which featured just a string to be tied. The top immediately fell away. Jane let it drop ostensibly so she didn’t touch it and get makeup on it. Once again her breasts were bared for him. “You need to put some more color on your nipples,” suggested Paige. “Have Paul do it so you don’t have to wash your hands again.”
Paul stared at her breasts. Beautiful, shapely Jane needs me to color her nipples, went through his head. He became lightheaded. Someone pushed a very small jar of a reddish-pink paste in his hand. “Put a little on your finger and rub it on her nipples. Just rub it lightly.” He took a deep breath and put a bit of the make-up on his finger. He reached the finger for her nipple. She moved it toward him.
As he touched her nipple, he felt he would cum in his pants. Some of the make-up adhered to her nipple, but the nipple kept moving as he tried to spread it around. “Hang on to her boob or you’ll smear it everywhere,” Paige admonished him taking the jar from his hand. “I’ll hold this,” she volunteered.
Paul took Jane’s breast in one hand and began to apply the rouge with his finger. Touching her nipple, it hardened in his hand. As it did he could no long restrain himself and shot his load in his pants. Embarrassed beyond anything he had ever known, he said nothing. However, the girls could see it in his face as he pumped cum into his underwear.
In spite of this, they let him apply the coloring to each breast until they were satisfied he was sufficiently hard again, then had him gently (to avoid messing up his makeup job) hold each breast as he carefully adjusted it into her bikini top and tied it.
They were hurrying him now so much that there was nothing he could do about having cum in his pants and no way to deal with the erection he got while adjusting Jane’s breasts inside the cups of her swim suit. He had been set up and didn’t know it.
Paul could hardly walk, but he led them onto the stage. Unfortunately for him he had selected khakis for this evening that looked especially good on him. Their tightness emphasized his butt and now made his hard on unmistakable.
The girls followed Paul single file their heels tapping on the stage floor; their bright smiles filling the room. No one noticed the tinge of malevolence in their smiles.
The mothers, from their side angle, were especially able to notice and be put off by Paul’s display. No one, of course, said anything. A small darkened spot grew in size as he walked. He sat appalled that his chair faced the audience. The spot kept growing.
“Well, girls, we have to apologize for our delay, but appreciate you putting up with us,” Mr. Breeman smiled as though he had said something clever. “We will run through this Swim Suit Event, then end with the Business Casual Event.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Jane cried out. The others looked to see what was wrong. The mothers looked and were on their feet instantly. The audience of salesmen gasped. The gasp was followed quickly by guffaws from the salesmen. “Oh, my,” she said again, but made no move.
He mother was the first to her. She picked up from the floor where it had fallen, the bikini top. The other mothers stood behind the girls for a moment then returned to their seats talking among themselves about the horrible tragedy that had befallen Jane. Jane’s mother, Kate, said in very low tones, “Think that will clinch it?” She was still holding the top. Jane stood half naked as though she was unable to move. With great deliberation Kate stepped behind Jane, untwisted the top, then fastened and adjusted it. She returned to her seat.
When he as able to catch his breath, Mr. Breeman said, “Uh, Miss Holden, would you like us to take a brief break?”
“No,” Jane responded holding her chin up slightly. In a quavering voice she said, “I’ll be OK.”
The others could hardly contain their laughter. The five bright smiles returned as they all looked into the admiring audience and waited.
Patricia wondered if there was a way to get the bottom of her bikini to ‘accidentally’ fall off.
The last time Patricia had been exposed in front of a group of men had been about five years ago. The recollection brought an appealing blush that engulfed her entire body.
She had been the winner of some obscure beauty pageant and had, as part of her commitment, gone to a business meeting. It wasn’t much different from this one or the ones she thought she’d have to go to if she won here.
The men there were in about the same age range as the guys here. They must have ranged all the way from mid-twenties to late forties. She wasn’t a good judge of men’s ages, but that’s what she had thought.
The meeting was held in a motel halfway across the country. She had been told to bring several changes of clothes, a gown, a swim suit, a cocktail dress, and a simple dress in addition to what she would wear to travel. She was to receive a clothing allowance for the trip to encourage her to look her best regardless of cost, they had said.
Initially the men were very polite, even if they did seem to be putting their hands on her overly much. At least they didn’t touch her in places that might be considered to be inappropriate.
This changed as the evening wore on. She put it down to the open bar as they began to take a lot of interest in her clothing and a few investigated her butt with slaps and squeezes. ‘Teasingly’ they pulled her bodice forward to get a better look. She resisted as much as she dared, but she was well aware that she was being paid to be here. She didn’t want to lose the job.
A waitress she met in the ladies room was quite sanguine. “Honey, you’re here to put on a show. You’re as much a part of the evening as the roast beef we’re serving. Entertain them, but try to keep your clothes on. If you need help, call on the staff, but remember, if you do, you’re history not only for this company, but probably for other jobs like it. It ain’t pretty, but there it is.” They had hugged. Patricia felt like a condemned person, but made a promise to herself to see it through.
Returning to the room she was heartened to hear that they were going to have an auction, the benefits of which would go to some orphanage or other. She sat at a table with a few of the less obnoxious men and watched the stage waiting for the auction.
The company president took the stage. “As usual our beauty queen will conduct the auction. We know she doesn’t have any experience with being an auctioneer, but that won’t matter. Come on up here, Patricia and make some money for this deserving cause!” A round of applause and Patricia realized she was compelled to go to the stage.
She took the microphone. “Thanks. This will be fun. I love helping out kids in need.” Turning to the president she continued, “What’s the first item?”
She was given a list of items seemingly standard for such auctions. There were iPads and iPhones, trips and even jewelry. “OK,” Patricia had replied quite intrigued and began to behave as she thought an auctioneer would. As she came to the bottom of the list she was given a stack of envelopes.