As a party, it wasn't bad at all. Pam smiled and made excellent small talk with the big shots from the local office and from the New York main office, and Mr. Murdock, who couldn't take his eyes off the low neckline of her dress, said, "Kerry, you and Pam are going to have to come out more often. Especially since you're going to be my right-hand man from now on. Catherine," he said, turning to his wife, "when can we have the Wilsons for dinner?"
For dinner? Pam thought wickedly. Talk about your Freudian slips! He was already eating her with his eyes and something told her that, if she were willing, Mr. Murdock would be only too happy to eat her with his mouth as well. If she were willing. And she wasn't. Pam had other fish to fry, tastier fish than gray-haired Mr. Murdock with his receding hairline and spacious belly. She couldn't for a moment imagine what it would be like to have his bulky body fucking atop her own in missionary position, and she wondered how slender, frown-faced Mrs. Murdock ever put up with such treatment. Maybe she didn't. After all, there weren't any little Murdocks running around.
"That sounds nice," she said, for it was the right thing to say to her husband's brand-new immediate superior at the plant. Come Monday morning Kerry would go to work in a coat and tie, and he'd have an office of his own, and he'd be making thirty thousand dollars a year, almost double his current salary.
And later New York? Dianne had virtually promised it. If he did the job he was capable of doing, Kerry's future with the Company was assured.
Dianne. Wasn't she doing some job on Kerry? It looked innocent enough from a distance, Pam supposed, and to anyone who hadn't shared that conversation upstairs in the bathroom, but Dianne Hagen was spending a lot of time talking to Kerry Wilson and she was doing some interesting things – if you'd read "Body Language". The messages were subtle, but isn't subtle usually best? Pam talked to Mr. Murdock, watching surreptitiously over his shoulder as Dianne and Kerry chatted and laughed, and she thought, Yes, she's right, it could work. Kerry seemed very attentive to Dianne, and it couldn't all be due to the fact that she was the New York office representative who had final say about his promotion. Some of it had to be attraction. Sexual attraction? If not, it would soon be.
Somehow, Pam reflected, this promised to be even more fun than the short, happy life of Patti Wright, afternoon whore. For one thing, she wouldn't have to keep it all a secret from her husband – once things got underway, of course. No need for deceptions and excuses. She could have her fun and Kerry could share in it, which was only fair and fair enough. After all, he was her husband and she loved him and cherished him. AU in all, the future looked very interesting. Pam Wilson could hardly wait for that future to get here. By summer she and Kerry and Dianne ought to be ass-deep in a delightfully different kind of relationship. Hurry, summer, she thought.
"Mmmm, it was a nice party," Pam giggled, flopping against her husband. She'd had a couple of drinks too many, not enough to make her sick, but more than enough to make her head swim with naughty ideas. "Do you think they liked me?"
"Damn right," he said, taking one hand off the wheel and putting it around her shoulders. The tips of his fingers slipped down to rest on the bare flesh above her low-necked dress, and she giggled again. It tickled. "I think you were the hit of the party. Mr. Murdock's eyes goggled out when he got a look at you, and so did everyone else's. Hey, what did you think of Dianne Hagen?"
"Oh, she seemed kinda nice, too," Pam said.
"I couldn't get away from her," Kerry sighed. "She acted like she wanted to throw a rope around me or something."
"I didn't notice you running," Pam pointed out, her hand settling onto Kerry's thigh. "Did you think she was pretty?"
"Not pretty," Kerry said, "but attractive, yeah. I mean, she's not a glamour girl or anything, she's too strong-featured to be Raquel Welch, and she sure isn't built like Raquel, either…"
But when she comes, Pamela thought, she tastes like warm milk. Like cream sherry. Sweet and tangy on the taste buds. Her tits are small and round and hard, like ripe apples, and when you suck the nipples you can almost feel moisture squirting into your mouth. But you'll find that out, darling, and soon.
Her hand covered his crotch and she squeezed the big lump she found there. Almost at once it began to harden in her grip and she leaned closer to him.
"What are you, doing?" he asked, not at all annoyed.
"Pull over," Pam said. "I think I want you to fuck me."
"Jesus Christ, baby! Can't you wait till we get home and into a nice warm bed?"
Pam laughed, then wiggled out of his embrace. She backed against the passenger door, then took off her coat. Kerry kept looking away from the road, staring at her. She puckered her lips and blew him a dozen kisses, then slipped one shoulder strap down. Part of the dress's bodice fell away and her right breast spilled out, bare and beautiful.
"You're making it hard for me," he said chidingly.
Pam reached into his lap. "And in the right place! Oh, pull over and fuck me! We haven't fucked in the car since the summer before last, when we went to the drive-in all the time. Remember?"
"How could I forget?"
"Mmmm-hmmmm," she agreed. "Hey, did anyone ever tell you that you look like the guy who used to play the gang leader in all those old cycle movies? Remember the one I mean? Big and broad-shouldered and mean-faced, but oh, Christ, so sexy. Bet he doesn't fuck the way you do."
"Oh, what the hell?" Kerry grinned as Pam let down her other shoulder strap and her left tit bounced free. She felt the car slow at almost the same moment his hand grasped one of her breasts and began to squeeze. "I see a parking lot up ahead. Can you wait just a minute?"
"Can you, tiger?" She covered his hand and pressed it to her titty. The nipple stood up, big and stiff, hot against his fingers.
He shut off the engine and slid across the seat. Pam lifted the hem of her dress and pulled his hand into her crotch. "Jesus, didn't you wear any panties tonight?" he asked.
"I forgot, them," she simpered. "You'd be surprised how easy it is for a girl to forget to wear her panties. Especially when she's thinking about the ride home. And I do mean ride. Oh, come on, get it out! I know it's hard and aching, but I have something to take care of all that!"
She dropped onto the floor, helping him undo his pants, pulling at them when he raised his ass. His trousers fell in a pile at his ankles and she pushed away the shirttail and the skirts of his coat, eager to get at his cock.
"You hardened up fast," she purred, blowing warm breath across his tool. "Did I do it all by myself?"
"Well, sure," he said, just a beat too slow to be entirely truthful. Maybe he felt more than a slight attraction to Ms. Dianne Hagen. He'd spent most of the evening with her. If that was so, good. It would make all the rest of it so much easier.
Pam could hardly repress a giggle as she started licking his balls, but the giggle became a sigh when her tongue dwelled on the swollen, lust-filled rocks inside Kerry's bag. He was sighing too, the way he always sighed when she mouthed his testicles, and it occurred to Pam that in the very near future he'd probably be sighing just the same way as Dianne Hagen began to use her luscious mouth on him for the first time.
"I want to suck you," she said, "but I don't want to suck you off. I want to climb on you and ride your cock till it shoots me full of cum. Promise you won't jump the gun on me?"
"Oh, baby, I promise! But suck if you're gonna suck, because if you don't, I'm gonna pull you up here and fuck you seven ways from Sunday."
"Okay, stud, you asked for it!" Pam opened wide and her mouth barreled down the stiff throbbing length of Kerry's dong, and she swallowed until the knob was almost in her tight throat. For a moment she stayed there, full of his cock, lingering until a gagging sensation began to form at the back of her mouth. That was the signal that it was time to begin sucking.
And suck she did. Her head lifted and fell with the rhythm and precision of a piston in a well-tuned engine, and she was a wet, narrow tunnel for his borer to ream out, her tongue a crazed flail around the shaft of his cock. Her back ached from the uncomfortable position she'd taken on the floor, the dash's underside hard against her spine, but she could move her head with no trouble and that's exactly what Pam did, sucking until she felt him throb in her mouth, felt him swell as if he meant to squirt right NOW!
Quickly she lifted her head, pinching him off just below the fat knob of his prick. "Aaaahhh," he gasped, for her fingers were right and pitiless, but she could feel the come-urge in him begin to subside, and that was what counted now. She still had to feel his dick ramming into her wet swampy twat.
"I thought I was a goner," Kerry confessed. "Jesus, you're hot as a two-dollar pistol. Did you meet somebody at the party who turned you on, babe?"
It was a good thing the car was dark, or he'd surely have seen her blush. Someone there had turned her on, in a big way, and very soon that special someone would be turning Kerry on, too. Was the bed at home big enough for three? If not, Pam decided, she'd draw some of her Patti Wright money out of the bank and buy a bigger bed.
"Hey," he said suddenly, his voice sharp, "I just saw a patrol car go by. Jesus, I hope they're not coming back…"
"Well, if they are," Pam said, "they're going to get the surprise of their lives when they flash a light through our car window. Just like a front-row seat at a porno film, huh, baby?"
And with that she rose, knelt astride his lap on the seat, and he held his cock upright while she positioned herself above it. Pam lifted her skirt, settled until Kerry's cock touched the crease of her quim. That was Pam's cue and she responded perfectly. She thrust herself down, ate his dick in one cuntal gulp, and leaned forward till her bare, warm tits enveloped his face. He grabbed her boobs and squeezed them together, kissing the cleavage between them, and Pam began to rock and roll on his cock, her pussy muscles already snapping at Kerry's hard male flesh.
Ah, she thought, it was nice to be doing it this way, in the car, almost in public. Even if it was late at night and they were the sole occupants of a parking lot. Not your big kind of excitement, but not bad, either. Soon, too soon, she'd have to undertake her share of. Dianne's scheme – she'd have to cut down on Kerry's at-home pussy, make him all the more receptive to Dianne's advances when they came. God, as horny as he got, Dianne would be lucky to walk away from her first fuck, especially if Kerry wasn't getting enough from Pam. No more of those sweet pre-dinner screws, no more waking up with his cock inside her and her snatch a juicy tunnel of love. At least, not as many of them as before. She couldn't cut him off entirely. That would be suspicious, and besides, she couldn't live with no cock at all from him.
Anyway, it was only temporary. Dianne had it all worked out, and the plan was a good one. Within ten days, she'd promised. Jesus, can I stand it for ten days? Pam wondered. But it would mean the perfect resolution, wouldn't it? She'd have Kerry and she'd have Dianne too and they'd be like a family, almost, the kinkiest family you'd ever want to join. Yes, the rewards promised to outweigh by far the temporary drawbacks.
"Uh… oh," she panted, writhing on his pecker, "I just saw that cop car too. They've gone past the lot very slowly. Do you think we look suspicious parked here all by ourselves?"
"Christ, let's hurry! I don't want to be here like this if they come to take a look. C'mon, baby, let's get our rocks off so we can head for home."
"Mmmm," she purred back, moving her ass even more slowly, but with a tantalizing, milking action of her pussy. Pam's nut-cracker twat was in full control now. He couldn't get his cock out of her till she was ready to let him, cops or no cops. His eight inches were fully buried, completely trapped, in her juicy slot and she intended to keep him there until her needs had been satisfied. "Don't be such a chicken, darling. Where's your sense of adventure! You haven't lost it, have you, Kerry love?"
She hoped he hadn't lost his sense of adventure, because in a very few more days he was going to need it badly. But Pam knew, even as she fretted and fucked, that there would be no problems. Dianne Hagen would, do her number, Kerry would fall for it, and from that point everything was set. An adulterous triad, with Pam at the center. When she could count on that sort of thrill at home, there was certainly no further need to go hunting excitement as an afternoon whore. From now on, Pam thought, my place will be at home. And specifically in the bedroom. The best place of all. The very best place of all.