The Sharing of Carlene

by Laran Mithras

  “Oh yeah, there's her pussy.” His hand became a blur.

  Jerk. You get to have all the fun and I don't? She got up, wanting to be involved. She knelt by him and took over.

  “He's stroking now, looking at her pussy.” Jim panted, his hips squirming and his erection expanding.

  “You can still see her pussy?”

  “Yes.”

  She stroked hard and fast, up and down. “Does it look nice?”

  “Unh...” His erection shot forth streams of sperm.

  Feeling powerful to bring a man to such a state, she settled back and smiled – one small pleasure for the weekend.

  CHAPTER 5

  Carlene was so afraid of Mondays.

  Scary, scary, scary.

  How am I going to dodge Eric this week? He had been persistent. Or should I dodge him?

  Her cycle was almost over. If she could dodge him for today, maybe then she could... Could what?

  Do I want him touching me again? A thrill went up her spine and a hint of her ache wormed through her hole. Why did it sound fun? Because Jim would like it? Or because she would like her boss to touch her pussy? No one ever touched her pussy but Jim. No one else ever wanted to. There was always another blonde with tits hanging around that got the attention. Was she wanting it because she had never experienced the rush of attention?

  She shook her head.

  Out in the office, the two male clerks went running by, yelling something, papers waving in clasped hands over their heads.

  Deal with it yourselves, I have enough to do. Whatever it is.

  Eric came into her office from the open office area. He didn't stop, being too busy on a Monday morning, but he gave her a small wink.

  She clamped her thighs together.

  She stood in line at the grocery store and watched Andy bag up a customer's purchase.

  He was lean, angular, and full of energy. His dark hair was brushed to the side and back.

  His eyes glanced up and met hers. Then back down to what he was doing. Then back up. A smile crossed his face.

  She tried not to look, feeling a blush on her face, when she paid for the nuts.

  Andy held the can. “Hi, would you like this bagged?” his voice was low, silky.

  “Hi, Andy.” She looked at him, a stupid smile on her face.

  He grinned, lopsided. “I don't know your name.”

  “Oh, Carlene.”

  “Would you like your cashews in a bag?”

  She reached out. “No, That's not necessary.”

  “Here you go.” His hand brushed hers placing the can in her hand. It was slow, deliberate, and caressing.

  She trembled. Then she fled.

  * * *

  Wednesday, her cycle was all gone. The next Monday would be her Las Vegas meeting. The good news was, Jim decided he wanted to go.

  The decision came as a huge relief to her because she did not want to be with Eric alone at night drinking and relaxing. She didn't trust him. Worse, she wasn't sure she would trust herself, either.

  With Jim there, he could watch out for her and keep things from happening.

  At least here in the office, anything that happened was limited by those who might observe.

  She wasn't worried about being touched here. Or did she really want it, actually?

  Eric had given her more looks, but done nothing. They served to tease her and make her squirm in frustration and annoyance.

  Jim had been understanding about her cycle, but she could see the disappointment in his face. She wanted to please him and make him happy, but it wasn't her fault she had to bleed.

  Her pussy needed a good workout and she would make sure it got worked over that night.

  As she was getting up to leave, Eric strode in. His eyes were glued to hers and she opened her mouth to breathe. Her heart thudded and the room grew fuzzy.

  Why is he so magnetic?

  He cornered her against the bank of file cabinets again and leaned over her.

  Trembling, she looked back at him. She panted, in fright or anticipation, she did not know.

  He whispered, “Are you a naughty girl, Carlene?”

  Yes, I want to be. But I'm afraid. “Naughty?”

  “Do you like your pussy touched?” His hand came up between her legs. His fingers gently pushed up against her hole. Then they moved up and rubbed around her clit, rubbing, massaging.

  She moaned low, trembling, quivering and shaking, wanting more, dreading more and not knowing what to do.

  “You're going to show me your pussy in Vegas.”

  No. She bucked her hips against his hand. “My husband will be there.”

  “Then I will get you alone and you will show me your pussy.”

  No, it's wrong. I can't.

  His fingers came up again, pressing upwards, pushing her panties and khaki slacks up her hole.

  She bit back a moan and felt the delicious pressure and ache. It would feel so good to have his fingers going in, stretching her lips, filling the void...

  “Yes, you want it. You will show me your pussy in Vegas.”

  She stroked Jim's dick erect in bed. “He touched me again today.”

  A smile lit up his face. “He did?”

  She nodded. “And he said things.”

  He reached over and took a vibrator from the drawer. He turned it on and settled it onto her clit, gently stroking and circling. “Tell me.”

  She didn't know how she was going to with that toy on her. Her pussy was already aching to cum. “He asked if I was a naughty girl.”

  “And he touched you?”

  She stroked his very hard erection. “Yes, he was pushing his fingers up, pushing my pants into my pussy.”

  He groaned and pumped his hips against her hand.

  “He asked if I liked my pussy touched.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I don't remember. He rubbed my clit, too.”

  Jim moaned again and pulled the toy away. He climbed over her and rubbed his dick over her throbbing clit. “He rubbed here?”

  She hummed happily. “Yes.”

  “Did it feel good?”

  Should I admit it? Or pretend it was awful? I don't want to hurt him. “I don't know.”

  He moved his erection down and toyed at her hole. “And he pressed his fingers here?”

  “Mmm, yes.”

  “What else happened?”

  “He said that he was going to make me show him my pussy in Vegas.”

  Her husband groaned and pushed his manhood into her, filling her.

  She clung to him as he thrust into her, gentle, deep, strong.

  “Did your pussy like being touched?”

  “Mmm, yes. It felt good.”

  He thrust harder, deeper.

  “Did you like him touching you?”

  Her world spun, a pent-up and long-delayed orgasm rushing her. “Yes, I liked it. I wanted him to touch me.”

  Jim tensed, thrusting, grunting in passion. “Do you want him to touch you again?”

  “Yes, I liked it. I want him to. Unh...”

  “Do you want to feel his fingers inside your pussy?”

  “Uhn...!” Her orgasm ripped over and through her.

  Jim's mouth descended on hers and they kissed, hungrily. His own seed, hot and eager, splashed her insides with heat. “I love you.” He was panting.

  She gasped for breath, her orgasm receding pleasantly, leaving the explosive pain behind and allowing her body to relax. But it tingled still, thrumming and vibrating inside. She hung onto his neck. “I love you, too, Jim.”

  * * *

  “I hope they're out again this weekend,” she said. She followed him up the stairs, iced teas in their hands.

  It was hot. Not a day for rum.

  “Winter won't be much fun, but maybe we'll be burned on watching them by then.”

  Why did he have to throw a wrench into reality?

  “Maybe.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice
.

  “Three's always next summer.”

  “That's a whole year from now. I'll be forty.”

  “So?”

  “Forty is old.”

  He laughed.

  She sat in the dormer on the cushion. Why is he laughing?

  “Forty is a year older, that's all. And I turned forty two months ago.”

  Oops. I always forget we're not the same age. “But forty-year old women don't have sex anymore.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, they dry up and their bodies change--”

  He rolled his eyes.

  Stop that. This bothers me. “I'm serious.”

  “I don't know what romance novels you've been reading or what your fashion magazines say, but life does not end at forty.”

  How did he know she had been reading those very words?

  “My cock still works just fine.”

  Well, yes, but...

  “And your pussy will still function just like it is right now.”

  Thank you, love. That's what I wanted to hear. “You won't stop loving me?”

  “What?”

  “All you men want younger women.”

  He glared at her. “Not all men and not this one.”

  Thank you again, my handsome husband.

  She looked out the window. “Alicia's out. Come here and I'll stroke you.”

  “I don't need her.”

  “Just come here.” I like stroking you to her. Don't spoil the fun.

  He knelt by her and looked out the window.

  She stroked. It felt nasty feeling his shaft harden. He was looking at Alicia and getting hard. How very nasty. A thrill ran through her pussy and it clenched. His hardness, even over Alicia, turned her on. In fact, how downright dirty.

  Russel was a few minutes behind his girlfriend and she stripped out of her bikini.

  “Can you see her pussy?” she said. She knew he could.

  “Mm, yes.” His hips pumped.

  Her pussy clenched. “Does it look nice?”

  “Very nice.”

  “Do you like me stroking you while you look at her?”

  “Mm, yes, it's fun. But I like it more when she strokes Russel.”

  I'm okay with that.

  He maneuvered her up for entry. She was kneeling on all fours, looking out the window.

  “She fingering herself and he's stroking,” she said.

  Jim pushed his erection into her very hungry hole.

  “Mmm,” she said.

  “Did you like your boss touching you?”

  A quiver ran through her, but not of excitement so much as fear. I just don't know. In some ways yes, in others, no. “It was okay.”

  “Will you let him touch you again?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Why not?”

  “This is all rather scary.” There, the truth was out.

  “Why be scared?”

  “Because he's not you.”

  “Is he frightening?”

  “Well, no, but--”

  “But you think I might be hurt?”

  Yes, you fool. “I don't know.”

  This is where his mind reading ability failed.

  “Does my erection feel like I'm hurt?”

  She smiled. No, it certainly didn't. “Well...”

  “What's wrong?”

  “I guess I wouldn't want to allow something to happen, like him touching me and then we regret it later. Like if you looked at me in a different way.”

  He had stopped thrusting. His hand ran along her spine and he began moving slowly again, in and out. “If I was happy with him touching you, you would be happy, too?”

  “Well, I suppose, yes.”

  “Good.”

  What did that mean?

  His thrusts took over. “Have you touched his cock through his pants?”

  A gasp tore through her and she bucked back against his hips. “No.” But she wasn't going to tell him she had daydreamed about it.

  “Do you want to feel his cock in your hands?”

  She whimpered, driving her throbbing pussy straight back onto his expanding shaft. Then she grunted, pushing back as hard as he was thrusting.

  “Or do you want to feel his cock in your pussy?”

  She cried out. Fear, orgasm, and lust.

  CHAPTER 6

  Carlene so very much hated the annual corporate meetings.

  Dull, dull, dull.

  The endless speeches given as reports, the back-patting, the frowns, the stern looks, the contained chuckles – she hated it all. Everyone tried to out-corporate each other, full of their own self-importance.

  Her presence was required as assistant to Eric. She had moved her chair an extra foot away to discourage his hands. During a break, he had moved the chair back closer. She had simply moved it over a foot again and sat down.

  He made no fuss.

  She wondered what Jim was doing. He had said he would cruise the malls gazing at the sights and opulence of Las Vegas. He wasn't a gambler, so the casinos held little interest for him.

  Later that afternoon, the partying would begin. There would be a dance room playing a mixture of styles. There was a large lounge with sofas, chairs and tables. A bar would be serving drinks in the lounge and their company had it all to themselves. Nametags were required to get in.

  She looked over at Eric.

  So handsome.

  He was in his executive pose, though, and she barely caught herself from rolling her eyes. He was leaned over to the left side, elbow on the arm of the chair, his hand curled down under his chin. His right leg was crossed over the left, knee up. His eyes were squinted and he wore a frown. His right hand gently tapped a pen on his right knee.

  I wonder what would happen if I screamed and messed up his pose?

  She smiled.

  He looked over as she did.

  Oh, fantastic. Now he thinks I'm smiling at him. She looked away but still saw him start twirling his pen. He did that when he was happy.

  She sighed. I need to find a different job.

  “Horrid,” she said.

  “It was that bad?” Jim's smile said he believed her but was teasing her.

  She slapped his arm. “I should make you sit there all day in my place just so you can see how awful--”

  “No. Way.”

  But she couldn't do that. He probably didn't know what the symbols meant on their slides and when to push the stupid button to follow Eric's drone-alogue. But she wished she could.

  Music drifted out of the lounge.

  She showed her nametag with the company logo to the guard at the double doors. Another guard stood with him, watching the crowds. Her husband showed his company guest tag and they were in.

  The lights were low and a soft music was playing from the speakers. Through a door to the left she saw the sparkle of even dimmer lights for the dancefloor.

  But there were no dancers, yet. Dinner was served first. She noted that she was seated in between her husband and Eric.

  Great. Now I'll have to be looking one way or the other.

  “You must be Carlene's husband?” Eric appeared beside them.

  “Jim.” He stuck out his hand.

  Eric gripped it, hard.

  Jim did not flinch.

  “Good to finally meet you,” her boss said.

  “Likewise. I've heard a lot about you.”

  Eric glanced slyly at her. “Oh? Is that so? And here I thought she was just a valuable employee.”

  She rolled her eyes and sat.

  Dinner was a series of evasions, equivocations and erotic touches. Her husband and her boss seemed to be verbally sparring, in a competitive way without being rude or loud. She attempted to avoid Eric's hand but every once in a while he would place it on her thigh and shivers would run up her spine.

  With her husband sitting right next to her, no less.

  The audacity.

  She drank to calm her nerves, but soon found she was smiling and sparkly
-eyed.

  Not enough food. Too much drink.

  They moved to the sofas after dinner. She sat on a cushy loveseat and expected her husband to join her. But Eric sat down next to her.

  “I'll refresh our drinks,” Jim said.

  “Good man,” Eric said.

  She looked wide-eyed at her husband and he gave her back a warm smile.

  As he departed, Eric moved his arm to the back of the couch, around her shoulders. He shifted a little, leaning to whisper, “You still need to show me your pussy.”

  Fear was nowhere to be found. She looked at him, leaning back a little. Do you think I'm some kind of exhibit for your perverse pleasure? “What makes you think I want to?”

  He smiled.

  Stop being handsome.

  “You will find the time and you will show me. I want to see it.”

  Huh. Fat chance, mister. But maybe if you show me your cock, first. “I don't know.”

  A rum was thrust into her hand.

  “Oh, thank you hon.” She searched Jim's eyes for signs of displeasure. He didn't have tendencies towards outbursts or anger, but sitting here with some other man's arm around her was cause for concern. Was he okay with it? Had he seen it and changed his mind? Was he mad at her?

  She didn't want those kinds of problems. Eric might be dashing and all and sexy, but Jim was the most important person in her life.

  Was he turned on?

  “Your wife tells me you were in Customs?” Eric touched her shoulder with the arm he had draped around her.

  Sly bastard. Touch me in front of my husband while you chat it up like television talk show hosts.

  “Let's just say it was as boring as you can imagine.”

  “Customs? I rather doubt that.” His fingertips drew lines on her shoulder.

  He has to see him stroking my shoulder.

  Jim smiled, but the grin was not humorous. “I carried a gun. It was more than just inspecting shipping containers. But enough of me. How did you become head of your division?”

  “Me? Oh...” His fingers tapped on her shoulder and then went back to toying. He leaned a little closer to her as if including her in the conversation. “I was a super for a short time before they moved me up into corporate. I had the ability to schmooze, they said.”

  Jim grunted understanding.

  “I spent some time in Detroit and then moved out here when this opened up.”