
BEST MODEL ON THE SHOWROOM FLOOR
By Titslave

      Just six months after I married Melanie, I lost my job as an
accounting manager with the Denver company that I had assumed would
never lay off anyone.  It took a lot out of me, and it definitely
affected her.  She had been staying at home and was planning on
motherhood.  We had to make big adjustments in our lives and she
started to look for work herself.   

      The situation did little to help our so-so sex life.  I could
not keep her satisfied.  At the same time, I became obsessed with
watching her, asking her to pose and tease me before we had
intercourse. She wasn't interested in that, at least not yet.  We
were at cross purposes: she wanted me to last longer, stay hard
longer, get bigger.  I felt that if I could somehow gain phallic
stature in thickness and length she would love sex.  

      She was real easy on the eyes.  Indeed, she was an absolute
knock-out, and I had been so proud to marry her as we both turned
25.  She had very dark, almost jet black thick hair which she liked
to wear long, big brown eyes, a kind of smoky little girl bed room
voice and my kind of curves.  A big, round sexy ass I loved to watch
sway and swing when she walked,  and extra large, E cup breasts -
they stuck out so much when she wore show-off bras, which was often,
and I just loved to stare at them and play with them.  They were the
more prominent because she was not that tall.  When she was in the
mood to do it, it was so wonderful to lie in bed and have her kneel
over me and lower them onto my head. Each of them practically
covered my face.  That was the only request she went along with.  I
wanted her to strip tease for me, or slowly take off her pants,
shaking her butt in my face, but she declined.  

      She quickly beat me in the job search and took a sales
position at a Ford dealership in town.  Central Ford was a
relatively new operation, out on the highway, and its showroom
seemed to be dominated by young, confident macho men, based on what
Melanie told me. "They have such dirty minds!" she laughed.  When I
asked her what that meant she said: "In their he-man way, they
definitely appreciate me. It's exciting to be the center of
attention," she said.  

      I feared that she was asking for it.  When she had gone for
the interview, with two guys named Donny and Brad, she wore a
surprising outfit. She chose a conservative jacket - usually she did
not dress to bring attention to her big chest - but under it she
wore a tight, black bustier with straps. She also picked out a red
skirt, dark hose, and red heels.  Apparently she had on a push-up
bra, and since her breasts were quite perky anyway, the net effect
of some daring cleavage, the low cut bustier and the bra was to
focus anyone's eyes intensely on her body, beginning with her chest.
We even had a small squabble about it as she left.  I told her she
was dressing much too provocatively, and sending the wrong message -
especially for a car dealership - at a job interview.  She insisted
that it was fine. This was the beginning of eerie feelings I had
about my wife's behavior.

      With her new job came some other changes.  She departed from
conservative dress in public and went out and bought other suits, in
hot colors - reds and bright blues and greens.  She put on a lot
more make-up and spent a lot of time on getting ready for work,
looking absolutely sexy.  She seemed to be a big hit with her
co-workers.  One reflection of this: several phone calls from guys
she worked with, in the evenings.  They began to bother me.  If we
were out voices on the machine left flirtatious messages like: "Hey
sweetheart it's me - Donny - you didn't say good-bye to me today.
Call me any time - I want to hear you say good night to me."  Or no
name and merely: "I just called to hear your voice.  Melanie, change
the outgoing message so your  voice is the one, not your husband's."
She seemed to study my reaction when I played them back. I didn't
make a big deal out of it, only telling her that it annoyed me.
When I answered the phone male voices asking for her made no pret of
introducing themselves to me - it got to the point that I just
handed her the cordless phone and went to the computer. After two
minutes of car-related chatter during these calls Melanie's voice
got real quiet and very friendly.  She drifted out of my earshot and
carried on with these people for sometimes twenty to thirty minutes
a call.  "Are you trying to seduce me over the phone?" I heard her
say to one of them.

      Once I commented: "Well, you sounded pretty chummy with that
person."   She said nothing.  I said: "Real chummy.."  Without
looking at me she said: "These guys at work are sex maniacs."  "You
were on the phone with him for almost half an hour," I said.  "Was
I?" she smiled, and walked into the kitchen.  I got the feeling that
she was waiting for me to explode or something over the phone calls
and the answering machine messages, but I never did.  It was almost
as if my failure to have a hissy fit about this attention was a
signal to increase it, because as time went by she got more calls
from guys from work at night. Listening to her talk and giggle in a
low voice over the phone didn't do much for my self-esteem, and I
just sat and played with the computer, pretending not to notice.  As
to her motivation for carrying on like this, I chalked it up to her
efforts to make a good impression, and her drive to succeed in her
job.

      She worked long hours, 9 to 9 and beyond, and started to bring
home some decent income.  The more she worked there, buying very
sharp clothes, some of it quite daring, the harder I tried to find a
job.  She was really doing well.  I sent in my resume in response to
each ad and even went to interviews - and made follow-up phone calls
-  and got nowhere.  I was still spending a lot of time on the
computer while she was slaving away at this dealership.  I did
notice that she was a lot happier - though not necessarily with me -
after she went to work.  One thing kind of exploded out of nowhere
in our sex life: she practically demanded that I go down on her when
she came home from work.  She literally would walk into our
apartment, no kiss, no conversation, and push my face into her
crotch.  Once I was on the couch when she walked in, and she forced
me to lie down and eat her - her pussy already soaked - after she
pulled her skirt up. She came twice, not letting me up for air for
at l half an hour.  Because they were missing I asked her if she had
forgotten to wear underpants that day and said that she had taken
them off before she left work.  When I asked why she said nothing.

      One day Melanie called me at the apartment from a car phone,
which we didn't have.  "Guess where I'm calling you from!" I heard
her yell, "I'm in a new Taurus that I'm going to pick up a potential
buyer in. I'm downstairs in the parking lot right now. This is my
first sale of the week. Want to come?" I looked out the window and
saw a brand new Ford and her arm waving from the window.  I ran
downstairs and talked to her through her window.  "If you're picking
up someone who may buy this car, you don't need me."  She looked at
me with a grin and said: "Hop in the back. You're another salesman.
He won't know you're really my husband."  She told me as we went to
meet the person that in a few months she was going to get a car like
this if she sold in impressive numbers.  

      We stopped and pulled over at a light and Melanie got out. She
was wearing a red suit, buttoned, and a short black skirt with a
slit on the left side, tasty gold earrings and gold bracelets - and
while I admired them I wondered where they came from.  A handsome
middle aged man came over and they shook hands, slowly, and she put
her left hand over his.  "So you're Melanie," this man said
chuckling, "This IS a pleasure."  I noticed how her voice had gone
into a soft, affectionate, almost suggestive tone the instant he
showed up.  "Why don't you drive and we'll see how you like it?" she
smiled.  "I like already," he said eagerly.  He got in behind the
wheel and I introduced myself as a trainee.  As she walked around
and opened the door to the passenger side he muttered mischievously
to me, craning his neck to gaze at her: "They told me she was hot.
Too bad that jacket covers up her big tits.  Christ, you're a lucky
trainee!"  I was very taken aback by his comments, and wondered who
have talked to him about my spouse like that.

      Melanie got in and crossed her legs so that her skirt rode up
to show him a lot of leg.  She grinned at him: "Shall we?"  As he
drove she filled him in on the car, which was loaded with extras.
"So Melanie, how did you get so sexy?" he asked her during a break
in the cartalk.  She turned in the seat so that she was facing him.
"Is that a compliment or are you hitting on me?" she laughed.  He
smiled: "Both."  Then he said sweetly:  "You've told me all about
the car's stats, what are yours?"  "Which one in particular were you
interested in?" she said, moving her left hand slowly up and down
some exposed thigh.  "Why don't you unbutton that jacket?" he said,
"he told me you're quite a big girl."  Her voice was maddeningly
suggestive now, and I was getting very upset. "Are you interested in
this car?" she said. "I need more convincing," he said.  Her hands
moved to her jacket and, smiling at him intently, she slowly
unbuttoned it, her nails looking perfectly manicured with a dark pi
lish.  I was filled with fear about what would happen next.  "Do you
mind if I relax a little? Long day," she said as she looked down at
her hands and then up at his beaming, excited face.

      I had assumed she was wearing a blouse underneath.  But she
was wearing nothing.  The jacket separated and some of the
wonderful, naked flesh of her big fat tits tumbled out into view,
her left melon almost completely exposed and pushing magnificently
free of the fabric.  She stuck her chest out in his direction and
then pulled the jacket completely open from the sides.  "Convinced?"
she cooed at him, and she grabbed the sides of her tits, pushing
them up and out at him.  He shuddered, said "Yeah baby," hoarsely,
and, a man she met eight minutes ago, started playing with her
breasts with his right hand.  She pushed them toward him even more,
her teats protruding with arousal.  "What about your trainee?" he
said, perplexed at my presence while overwhelmed with Melanie's
pulchritude.  "He's a tit man too," she said, then turning to me:
"Isn't that right?".  I said nothing, stunned by this surrealistic
scene in front of my eyes.   "Have we sold you a new Taurus?" she
said, respondin this stranger's squeezes.  "You know how to sell,
Melanie," he said as they pulled into the dealership lot. She pulled
his face toward her chest and asked him if he wanted to suck on her
nipples. I got out, beside myself, as soon as the car was parked.
They stayed in it for another ten, fifteen minutes.

      After she went through paperwork with him in her office and I
had been cooling my heels in the waiting area she came out, acting
like nothing was amiss. "I can't believe I saw what you did," I said
to her.  "Oh that?" she smiled, frowning at the same time. "One of
us has to bring home the bacon, babe, and selling cars takes some
compromises."  I was surprised at her words. "You can't let other
men touch you like that, Melanie," I said.  "I'll try," she said,
turning to go back to her office, "but I just made us a nice
commission.  Talk to me about my methods when we see paychecks with
your name on them."  She looked back at me: "Want to meet Brad and
Donny? They interviewed me and one of them can give you a ride home.
I have to work late."  I did meet Donny, a beefy young guy, cocky as
hell, always carrying on like a salesman, very smooth.  Winking at
my wife, he shouted: "Hop in, Melanie's lucky husband!" and jumped
in his car, a new Explorer, he drove like a maniac and dropped f at
home in half the usual time for the distance.  He raved about
Melanie non-stop.  "She's incredible. Just incredible," he said as I
got out.  "You must be chasing her around your apartment all night."
"Something like that," I smiled.  He laughed: "Since she's started
no one - including me - can get any work done.  She walks by and we
all just want to, oh - hey, gotta go. Good luck with your job
hunting, you VERY lucky stud!"  He raced out of my parking lot.
After talking to him I felt like I needed a hot bath.

      On the following Saturday afternoon Melanie and I were at the
apartment, she going over training manuals, I doodling around on the
Internet.  My preoccupation with the computer was a matter of some
smart comments from my wife. She needled me about spending more time
on that than looking for a new job or paying attention to her.  She
handed me specs sheets and had me quiz her about the Windstar Wagon,
its various features and the amounts of the various rebates, and the
Central Ford discount it was advertising.  Then I quizzed her about
the Escort, then the Ranger Pick-up, the Explorer, the Expedition
XLT, and so on.  She was really into it, and never missed a point of
information.  Around 2 she took a long break from her work and I was
surprised to see her dolling herself up, putting on makeup and
changing her clothes.  The transformation was something: She had
gone into the bedroom with a baggy shirt (of mine) and old khakis
that she had worn all day but came out, after about twe inutes,
sporting a very tight gray, sleeveless blouse and equally snug white
shorts and heels.  The way she had tucked in the blouse left no
doubt how to die for stacked she was, and the daring cut of the
neckline showed quite a lot of inviting cleavage. The fact that she
had changed into this outfit took me aback. I had not seen her dress
to show off her curves like this in weeks, if ever.

      "Going somewhere?" I asked, unable to take my eyes off her
huge-looking chest. "No," she said, burying her nose in her manuals.
"Why the sexy clothes?" I asked.  She looked at me. "They want me to
look my best at all times, even at home," she smiled, kicking off
her red shoes,  "and I feel good dressing up like this.  Do I look
hot?"  I looked her over,  as she knelt on the couch sideways with
car-related stuff all over the coffee table, papers in her hand.
"You look incredible," I said.    Nothing more was said, and I was
still bemused by the effort she had put in the effort to dress up
this way just to pore over paperwork.  As the time ticked by I was
also noticing a restiveness with her, as if something was about to
be happening.

      Around 3 the lobby buzzed.  I went to answer it and noticed
again how nervous, in a subtle way, Melanie seemed.  "I wonder who
this is," I muttered.  I buzzed back: "Hello?"  "Sorry to bother
you, is Melanie there?" a deep masculine voice hollered.  "Who's
this?" I asked. Melanie bounced over to the intercom, pushing my
hand away. "Hello?" she yelled.  "Mel honey, it's Vince!"  "Well hi
Vince!" she laughed.  He said, "I'm just boppin' around and I have a
buddy with me, actually a customer. Can we come up and say hi?"  She
was blushing, for some reason, and started to give an enthusiastic
"yes" when I said to her: "Can I vote on this?"  Her smile
disappeared. "Do you mind? Is there a problem?"  "Well, who's
Vince?" I asked. "He's from work. You'll like him," she said, then
she pressed the 'talk' button: "Come on up!"  Her studious manner
quickly changed to giddiness.  She raced to the kitchen and got out
wine glasses.  "Open that large bottle of white wine," she said,
which I did. sses and the wine were set on the end table next to the
couch.  Then the knock on our door.

      She opened the door. In walked a tall, fit looking man, about
35, in shorts and a polo. At this point I should mention that
Melanie and I are white. Behind him was a very muscular guy,
shorter, with deep Black skin. "Hello!" the first guy smiled at
Melanie, and no sooner had they entered and I closed the door then I
turned to see my wife plant a very wet kiss on  the first guy's
mouth.  "Hello yourself," she said very softly to him. She kept her
arm around him as he half turned to me and smiled, "Vince. How ya
doin'"  He turned to Melanie and said, "I want introduce you to
Ozzie." I noticed Ozzie had smiled at me when he first came in but
then feasted his eyes on my Melanie in a bold way that annoyed me.
Ozzie stepped toward her, "Vince told me you were something, and you
are something!" he said.  "What did I tell ya?" Vince smiled.
Melanie rubbed her hand along his meaty arm, giggled and muttered:
"Damn!",  and then kissed him on the lips.  Then Vince turned to me
and said: "We so happy to have your sexy wife on board. She's built
to sell cars."  Ozzie looked at me halfway, still facing her: "I
never would have bought that Taurus from you Vince if this lady had
been employed there."  Melanie pointed at the manuals and other
paperwork all over the coffee table and said: "I've been reading
this stuff all day!  I needed a break!"  I noticed that Vince's and
Ozzie's eyes were just glued to my wife's body, I and wondered how
long they would be hanging around.

      I poured wine and we chatted. Melanie was more thirsty than
usual and dived into a second glass after practically chugging the
first one.  She sat down at the couch and put a big pricing manual
for vans, Expeditions and Excursions on her lap. "There's so much
here," she laughed, resting her arms far behind her on the couch.
They half dangled over the back.   It seemed to me she was
deliberately sticking her chest out. Vince responded to her: "You
got that right." She laughed and looked at him with narrowed eyes:
"I was referring to the manual." "Oh, OK, yeah there is a lot and
most of it doesn't mean shit when you actually get on the floor and
sell."  He walked around to the back of the couch, and got directly
behind her, looking down at her and the papers.  "Which section are
you studying now?" he said, leaning closer toward her head.  

      Then she did something that gave me the creeps.  She pointed
to the bottom of the page with her index finger, but there was no
way she (or he) could see what she was pointing at, since it was
situated in her lap under her ample chest, and her breasts were
blocking the view.  "This part," she said, looking back at him and
smiling.  "I can't see your hand, babe," he said, squinting. Vince
said to Ozzie: "Hey Oz, come over here and learn something.  Can you
see what she's pointing to?"  Ozzie joined him, Vince to the left of
her head, Ozzie to the right.  I noticed her one hand was still
dangling behind the couch, exactly between Vince's and Ozzie's legs.
They laughed suggestively about this obstruction problem and I must
say it irritated me.  "I love this view, bro'," Vince laughed.
"Incredible," Ozzie said.  "I know where I want to go for an
'Expedition'", he snickered.   I had to break up this conversation.
"More wine?" I suggested, sitting on the couch next to her, bottle
in "Thanks man," Ozzie said.

      The subject changed to cars and the dealership - which allayed
my anxiety - but after a while my blood pressure jumped again.
"While you're back there, Vince," Melanie said, getting up on the
couch in a kneeling position, facing away from me, "how about a back
rub? I am so tense from this studying."  I put my hand on her
shoulder, "let me do it."  "No, it's got to be Vince. He gives these
at work and they're the best."  I decided to assert myself: "I am
uncomfortable with that.  Vince, I would like to do the honors."
Melanie looked up at Vince and said: "Vince has got stronger hands,
darling. And the Central Ford sales team sticks together, right
Vince?"  Vince put his hand on her back and said softly: "You want
me to do you?"  "Since you walked in," she said, pulling her hair up
over her neck, her hands dug into those thick curls, her breasts
jutting out so alluringly.  

      I persisted: "Melanie, this isn't right."  She looked back
halfway in my direction, "Get me some more wine and go play on the
computer."  There was a tense silence as Vince's right hand began
working its way over her shoulders and then down to the small of her
back.  As he leaned into it she stared at him, grinning, closing her
eyes. Now he had both hands on her and I was quite disturbed to see
how warmly she responded to his massage.  I stood up and went to the
kitchen to get wine and heard whispers and when I returned he was
sitting behind her on the couch, rubbing her vigorously all over her
back. Ozzie sat with one leg draped over the back of the couch.
"Looks like that feels good," he said quietly.  She was leaning
forward, her hands bracing her on the arm of the couch, her body
rocking with the waves of Vince's hands.  She moaned, and I stood
staring, not knowing what to do. 

      "This blouse has got to go!" she then laughed.  She began
unbuttoning it.  "Oh now Melanie," I protested, "I think we're
getting a little wild here."  She ignored me and stood up and faced
Vince and Ozzie. Her eyes shifted from one of them to the other, and
their stares brimmed with expectation.  "I have something I think
you'll appreciate," she said in a melodic way. My wife was about to
show these men what she looked like in a bra, something only I was
entitled to do.  She pulled open her unbuttoned blouse and there was
no bra, but a blue and green string bikini top, a very flimsy deal
with triangles barely covering her full nipples.  I had never seen
this item of clothing before.  Her breasts were so big and delicious
looking, and I was perversely fascinated by her posing this way in
front of a business colleague and a man she had met thirty minutes
ago.  "What is that?" I asked, more than curious. "It's a bikini,"
she grinned, still looking at them. They chuckled. "When did y y
that?" I asked.  "I didn't."  She handed me the blouse. "Well where
did it come from, Melanie?"  "Vince bought it for me," she smiled.
She finally looked at me, "how do you like it?"  "It's great," I
said.  "I love the way it shows off so much of my big tits," she
said, smiling at me.  This coarse reference to her breasts sounded
so dirty.  Vince looked at me with a lot of sincerity: "Hope you
don't mind.  I just wanted to express our appreciation for the
assets your wife brings to the dealership."  "I appreciate that," I
said, noticing the eye games she was playing with Ozzie.  Vince went
on: "I hope you don't object if I tell you how incredibly attractive
your wife is. Really."  "I appreciate that too," I said.

      "Hey," he said, grinning at her. "That bikini has two pieces."
She said, "well yeah but my husband probably wouldn't appreciate my
taking my shorts off."  I felt some slight relief from the anxiety
this was causing me.  "The shorts stay on, folks,"  I said, my arms
folded on my chest.   She climbed back on the couch, knelt and faced
Vince, sticking her chest out for the ninth time.  "More rubbing,
Vince. I don't want to offend him," she smiled, then turned around,
her almost bare back swiftly feeling the thorough exploration of his
big hands.  "OK, guess what I'm spelling," he said to her softly.
He began "writing" invisible letters on her back with his index
finger.
"V.....E.........R.........Y..........B.......U.......S......T......Y"
she said as his finger made big strokes on her back.  "Very busty!"
she said.  "You guys!" she muttered.  "They're hard to miss," Ozzie
said, looking at me with a grin.    I watched, disgusted, as Vince's
hands came back to rub her back and sho s, then the length of her
back, and then toward her buttocks.  She moved forward as his hands
stayed down there, pushing under the waist of her shorts and into
the top of her plump ass.   Then they made a point of rubbing
against the string across her back and the string around her neck.
"You know Melanie I could do a better job if these dumb strings
weren't in the way."   "I bet you could do a hell of a job," she
giggled.  She was now sitting on her folded legs, her head leaning
back toward him.  Ozzie moved so that he was sitting further down on
the back of the couch in a position to stare at her chest - which he
did openly and brazenly.  I half thought of these two people as home
invaders.
	
      "Well, the top stays on," I said.  "Don't even think about
it."   Vince got off the couch and stood in front of me - I was now
sitting in the chair next to the couch - and he spoke
authoritatively.  "Look my friend.  Nothing is more important to a
good sales associate then top physical condition.  Your wife has
been slaving over her training materials all day.  There is more to
selling than sitting on a couch and reading...."   I noticed Ozzie
and my wife exchanging quiet banter while Vince stood in front of
me.  I also noticed that Vince had one hell of an erection, clearly
visible as if he had nothing on under his shorts.  He continued:
"Furthermore, I am a registered massage therapist - worked at it
before I went to Central Ford.  I know what I'm doing.  So does
Ozzie - he's a physical trainer and also a registered massage
therapist.  It took us years to learn that discipline. And -"  he
leaned toward my face with a slight frown, "she and I have to work
together so I would app te a little less of the possessive husband
routine."

      He walked over to the couch and smiled at my wife, whom I
heard say to Ozzie as Vince was through with me, "You and I just HAD
to meet, if you like big girls."  Ozzie laughed: "Definitely. Big
where it counts."    "I think your husband and I understand each
other,"  Vince said, looking back at me.  "Right?" he smiled at me,
the profile of his tightened shorts defying my sovereignty in my own
home.   She looked at me and said: "Why not look in the classifieds
for a new job?"  Then she grinned at Vince. "Where were we?"  He
knelt behind her and undid her bikini top, throwing it behind him
rudely.  His hands slowly traveled to her shoulders and I saw her
eyelids get heavy.  Her hands reached behind for him and he leaned
forward so that she was caressing his face.  I felt completely
shamed, watching this man look over her shoulder and laugh softly as
his eyes took in the sight of her tits.   "Jesus," I heard him say.
Then he cupped them with his big hands - or rather cupped some of
massive titmeat, then jiggled her tits in his hands.  He looked over
at me, "This is non-erotic.  People think you only get rubbed on the
back.  That's a misconception. Your chest is tight from the stress
of work," he said with what I thought was kind of an exaggerated
clinical tone.  He lifted her tits and let them fall, then squeezed
them. His two hands would squeeze one tit and then the other, then
do both.  "Melanie, is this relaxing?  I want to get the knots out
of your chest - it badly needs working," he said softly.   "Oh yes
Vince.  And it's so non-erotic.  We don't want him to get the wrong
idea."  They went on like this for about ten minutes, and Melanie
was breathing hard.  I was fuming, but was reluctant to confront him
and Ozzie.

      Vince then said: "Ozzie is an absolute pro at this.  Would you
like him to take over?"  I was at the point where I felt powerless
and sat at the computer, struck dumb.  "How about a little sample of
all of those well-trained hands?"  she said, smiling with her eyes
closed.  "Do you mean he and I give you a rubdown at the same time?"
Vince said, highly excited from the thorough massaging of her tits.
To answer she pulled on the ebony bicep within reach.  "Come here
Ozzie," Melanie grinned.  Ozzie knelt facing her on the couch and
began squeezing her tits.  My wife was moaning, and smiling at him
as he played with her ample chest.  Their hands rubbed her all over
from the waist up.  "How do you like Ozzie's hands?" Vince asked,
rubbing her neck and shoulders and watching my wife respond to the
strong hands pushing her breasts together, than spreading them
apart, then working them in ways that seemed so dirty. "I object to
this," I said.  I was now looking as my wife's body, half n was
getting felt up by two total strangers.  Melanie glanced over at me:
"Don't worry, honey, it's all non-erotic."  But her nipples were
sticking out like I had never seen.  Although what was happening
right in front of me was humiliating, I was struck by the intense
atmosphere of lust that was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

      Vince's pager went off.  "Oh oh - gotta get home." He rose
slowly, and said: "Melanie, we have to go.  Why don't you walk us to
the car we brought?  It's a brand new Explorer."  She put on her
bikini top, her face in a deep flush.  Vince extended his hand,
implying that I wasn't invited to see them out: "Nice meeting you.
Good luck with your job-hunting."  Ozzie was very warm with his
farewell.  "I really enjoyed making your acquaintance.  It was a
pleasure.  Keep plugging away at those ads."  I said good-bye and
watched the three of them walk to the elevator.  I heard her
whisper: "What did I tell you?" and then heard her giggle as the
elevator was closing: "Registered what? You aren't a fucking massage
therapist!".  Then I heard faint laughter.  I decided to race down
the stairs and beat them to the guest parking slot in the remote
corner of the garage, then hide in a maintenance office next to it
that was never locked.  I had to find out what they were going to do
with my dear wife.

      I had thought I made it just in time, but the elevator they
were in did not open for almost ten minutes. People waiting for it
had lined up and were fuming. I was afraid that there was a problem
- or that my wife was necking in there with these two gorillas.  My
hiding place was at a window in the maintenance office that was open
and offered a view of the guest parking.  I saw a brand new Ford
Explorer parked just feet from me.  Eventually  they walked briskly
out of the elevator, still laughing, Melanie's large tits bouncing
provocatively under the skimpy bikini. Her face was red and I heard
her yell: "Yummy!"  Then Vince's arm was around her and they were
kissing. Then Ozzie's arm was around her also and they were kissing.
They all stopped at the driver's side door, which Vince unlocked and
opened. Where I sat I had a clear view of the three of them.
Melanie stood real close to Ozzie and was rubbing his very muscular
arms.  She was red and sweaty and her lipstick was a mess. as also
caressing Vince's chest, and said: "So you're as hot for big tits as
Vince is?"  Ozzie chuckled and put his hands on her chest, and Vince
got behind her, his hands roaming over her back.  "You like showing
off your body, even when your husband is there...." Ozzie said.  "I
told you he'd just whine," she said.  I felt a knife in my chest
with that, then stared as Ozzie and my wife kissed passionately.
Vince was rubbing her ass.  "I was dying to fuck you up there," he
said, chuckling. "Too bad I could only swallow you in the elevator
and you guys can't fuck me right here," she said, smiling at Ozzie
as she pushed the bikini top free and offered Ozzie's mouth a hard
nipple.

      This outrageous behavior was thankfully cut short when a car
pulled in two spaces away. The three separated, to my relief, and
Melanie hastily straightened herself up.  Two guys got out and
looked over at the Explorer, or should I say the Explorer with
Melanie posing as she stood against it, her back arched, her smiling
face directed at the two strangers.  What had happened to my wife, I
thought, in shock?  She was staring at them real hard, smiling, and
they were staring back as they headed toward the elevator lobby.
"Quite a car!" one of them smiled, and then he stopped and said:
"That the new Explorer?"  "Sure is!" Melanie replied.  Both of the
men walked over, acting interested in the SUV but evidently lusting
after my wife, the way they raised their eyebrows to each other, and
the one mouthed the word "Whoa" when she was looking away from them.
It was a treacherous new world for me, watching my wife attract men
like this - and knowing that she had changed to make this attr n
possible.

      Then his pager went off again and Vince said: "Babe, I gotta
go.  See you Monday." He kissed her on the lips, and then, to my
shock, grabbed her ass lovingly.  Ozzie did likewise.  They drove
off in the Explorer, leaving Melanie to chatter with the strangers.
"So you're at Central Ford," the one said, looking at the business
card she gave him.  "Come see me," she said. "Both of you good
lookers."  "Do those guys who just left work there too?" the one
asked.  "One does. Don't know much about the other, except that he's
well built."  "You dating either of them?" he wondered.  "Why? Maybe
I'm dating both. I date a lot of gusy" she smiled.  "Just wondered
what it takes to get that kind of good-bye," he stammered.  She
stared at one of them, then the other, and caressed the first one's
face, giggling: "Come see me. We've got all the new models on the
floor."  They walked away, and he said: "I'd say you're the best
model on the floor."            

      I snuck back upstairs, just beating her.  Who was I now
married to?  Would there be more revelations?

      I was on a late afternoon job interview five minutes away from
Central Ford and decided to get a little more assertive about the
situation and stop in there unannounced, to check on what my wife
was doing. I pulled into the lot in our old beater around 6, on a
night Central closed early.  Yet Melanie had told me that morning
she was going to be tied up until 9 or 10 so I decided to disbelieve
her and investigate.  I entered through the service department.
When a mechanic told me they were closing in two minutes I told him
I was married to one of the employees.  I worked my way to the
perimeter of the showroom and  avoided Vince and Donny, who were
both there, and the only ones who knew me.  I patted myself on the
back when I figured out a way to get into a van that was parked
right next to Melanie's office. My heart beating crazily, I was
sitting in the back, with the door slid open, when I heard her voice
and that of Donny. 

      "You know who's here, don't you?" he asked her quietly.  "The
sheriff and those two deputies?" she said, sounding so sultry, in a
way I rarely ever heard at home anymore.  "They're in my office and
they're shopping the Taurus for their whole department. County-wide.
That's 100 cars."  "Well good luck, big guy" she said.  There was a
pause, then: "You like my hand here don't you?" he said.  "Oh yeah.
All the time," she said, laughing, "but I thought more than a
handful was too much, lover."  "God I love these huge tits of
yours," he said. "And I know everyone else does too.  And you know
it.  Open that jacket all the way, Mrs. Top-heavy."  "Yes, sir," I
heard her say.   More of a pause.  She was sighing now: "I just
can't get enough of all the - uh - personal attention. All the guys
like to play with my tits, especially in the morning."  I was
flabbergasted to hear this.  "I knew you were a wild child when you
walked in to interview here and leaned over about twenty times for
us," huckled, "I have interviewed dozens of women to sell here and
no one has ever flirted with us, and gone out of her way to tease
us.  All the others, bar none, have dressed conservatively and
avoided the double meanings we threw out there.  But you, you
fucking cockteaser, you dressed like a hooker and acted like
it.......I'll never forget your comment right at the start of the
interview: 'I like to dress at least this flashy and hope you guys
don't mind a little tit in the workplace.'  When Brad said  'Well
Melanie we just love big tits',  you slowly took off your jacket,
while saying 'How about this then?'"

      More of a pause.  "It feels like something is growing near my
thigh," I heard her say.  "You want me to suck your cock?" she said
softly.  "Oh yeah, and you can take care of that later. Right now I
need you to close this deal with the sheriff.  Let me introduce you
to them and then you can do whatever it takes to make the deal. OK,
babe?"  "Are they cute?" she asked.  "You judge," he said, and I
heard them walk away.  

      I felt like I had to rescue her from this evil place.  I lost
any desire to hide and instead stepped out of the van, into the
open, intent on stopping this exploitation of my Melanie.  I was now
on the showroom floor and Vince spotted me.  "Hey, how ya doin'?" he
said, with a big smile concealing his surprise at seeing me there.
"Got a job yet?" he went on, in a way that was more mocking than
concerned. "Where's Melanie?" I asked, frowning.  "She's tied up in
a big meeting," he said.  "Yeah, and I want to talk to her before it
starts," I said, looking around for Donny's office.  "Which way is
Donny's office?" I asked.  "Well, my friend, I can show you the
office, but they've got a very important meeting going in there.
Maybe you'd like to watch the meeting from my office. I'm right next
to Donny."  I was confused: "Watch the meeting?"  He grinned at my
befuddlement. "It's time you saw Melons-ie do her stuff," he said,
grabbing my arm.  "What did you call my wife?" I asked.  "She s it
when we call her Melons-ie. In fact,"  he put his face near my ear,
"that kind of nickname turns her on."  I was shocked.  He led me
into his office.  I felt my head spinning.

      Unlike the other sales offices, that were relatively small and
had windows, Vince's - and Donny's - were larger and private.  He
closed his door.  "Donny is introducing our best salesperson - your
hot wife - to one of our biggest customers - the county. You can
watch if you want. Step up on that coffee table."  He gestured to a
small table against the wall in common with the next office, then
closed his door and turned out the lights.  A shiver went through me
as I stood on the table and found myself peering through a narrow
opening that gave me a full view of a large, very well appointed
office.  Vince looked at me hard: "I don't think you're going to get
too antsy about this, since my friend and I walked into your
apartment out of the blue and played with your wife's tits right in
front of you."  He had a point; I felt quite small.  Busting into
this meeting was beginning to lose its appeal.  I had no recourse
but to watch my wife act like a whore. I hoped against hope that wha
as going to see was going to be nothing more than some flirting and
grabbing, no sex.  Vince left the office, boasting that he would
"watch the tape later with the guys."

      Three very tall, imposing men were chatting in Donny's fancy
office.  Two, in law enforcement uniform, and both Black, were
sitting down at a couch to my left and facing the door to the office
at my far right.  I assumed they were the two deputies. A third,
silver-haired man, White and dressed in a suit, was standing to
their left, facing me, and in the center of the office. He was
talking to them and nervously was jingling change in his pocket.  If
he weren't a sheriff he should have been one.  To me these men were
intimidating by their sheer presence.  

      "I've been looking forward to this all day," he said.  "Donny
sent me a demo tape of her sales method," he chuckled, "Fifteen
minutes of her posing in Frederick's of Hollywood negligee, outside
and inside a new Ford van.  In the final shot she shows her big bare
ass, and she fingers her asshole  - it fills the whole screen in a
close-up.  I watched it five times.  Christ is she nasty."    "And
she's 'so stacked it's scary' - isn't that what you said on the way
over?" one of the deputies said, eyes wide.  "Let me put it this
way, Les," he said, "do you like really large tits and a big round
ass?"  Les laughed: "Well yeah, boss."  "And does it drive you mad
when you see someone well endowed who likes to tease and you know
you can't fuck her?"  "It's torture," Les said. "And when the right
girl comes along and you CAN have those large mammaries, after all
that teasing, it's indescribable, right?"  "The best," Les smiled.
"You just want to fuck her in two, right?"  "Until she passes "
Reggie put in.  The sheriff grinned:  "I think the right girl is
about to walk in that door."

      Then the door to Donny's office opened, and in walked Melanie
and Donny. I was in a strange awe at how lucious she looked. Her
hair was up and she had on a bright red jacket over a brown, tight
skirt that went as far as mid-thigh.  She was wearing some kind of
French hose and high heels. Her jacket was buttoned at the waist,
but with an obvious tightness on top, her ample chest pressing up
and out, practically bursting through a white top she was wearing
under the jacket.  She wore sparkling gold on her ears and wrists,
again new to me.  And around her neck was a mysterious, very
eye-catching necklace that seemed, from where I stood, to be
punctuated with a diamond in her cleavage.  Her vivid crimson lips
were outlined with an almost purple, fluorescent gloss, and her eyes
were made up so beautifully it took my breath away.     
		
      "I wanted to bring our best associate in here to meet you
gentlemen," Donny grinned. "Melanie, meet Sheriff Stark, and two of
his biggest deputies, Les Jenkins and Reggie Forrest."  The sheriff
walked over to them, and extended his hand, "It is such a pleasure.
We have heard so much about you. Call me Ed," he said.  He leaned
toward her face and kissed her on the lips, and she smiled, petting
his face and looking for a few long seconds up at him. "Hi, Ed."
She walked slowly toward the couch as Les and Reggie stood up, and
said, laughing: "And I am so glad to meet THESE hunks."  She took
Les's hand and kissed him on the lips, and he held her. "Which hunk
are you?" she said in a little kitten voice.  "It's Les, and this is
Reggie," he smiled as she turned to Reggie and kissed him on the
lips, then eyed his broad shoulders.  "My, my. Well any time you
guys want to arrest me, let me know, OK?" she chuckled, stepping
back toward Donny.  Sheriff Stark spoke: "Donny sent me your sales
tape, and I really enjoyed it. I practically fucked the TV screen."
My wife laughed.  He went on: "Sometime you're going to dress that
way for us and to show us a new Ford van."  "That can definitely be
arranged," she chuckled.   Reggie exclaimed: "Hey sheriff you
brought us to this meeting but how come we didn't see that tape
ahead of time? Unfair!" "Damn right!" Les laughed.
