“So the public relations fallout over Cindy’s recent behavior is probably going to be minimal. Most likely we’re only going to see an effect here in the United States,” I said.
“That’s right,” Tabs agreed. “The PR firm that we consult with thinks that the evidence of your wife’s ongoing affair with Carl Covington and any other promiscuous activity by her in the future may be embarrassing and damaging, but we don’t foresee any end of the world scenarios.”
“So, the issue will be spun as a personal lifestyle issue and we really aren’t seeing a real danger here to the core businesses and our associates,” I agreed.
After the song was over the other girls made their way back to the table and we were talking about the game when Gina showed back up.
“Well show us how naughty you’ve been,” I demanded as soon as Gina sat down.
She just whipped out her phone and showed us a picture of her kneeling on the bathroom floor with a cock spewing cream in her open mouth.
“You’re such a slut!” Tracy giggled.
We all laughed, taunting Gina about how nasty she was.
It was on from there. We all got into it and after two hours Gina had the lead with making five guys pop. Mary and I were tied for last place with just two guys.
I moaned rolling my eyes. “Yeah. Right! Like either one of you bubbling bunnies needs your ego stimulated by some old sour puss like me.”
Two pair of lips poked out at me with sensual teases of fake pouts.
Vicky asked. “Which one of us has the best ass?”
“Well, that’s a subject that requires further study.”
Amy snapped. “Oh really? And just what are the requirements of this further study?”
Grinning I knew that we were entering a devious game of flirting. I had been skilfully manipulated by these enchanting women to have more fun with them if I so desired.
“Well, the first requirement is grading the jello test. It’s a multiple part test designed to indicate the bubblisciousness of your booty.
“Your what! Bubbly-nesh-ess,” Vicky said, exasperated at me. “Is that even a word? You’re making this crap up.”
“No, of course not!” Keeping a straight face. “It’s a jiggle factor test.”
I took a moment to marvel at the professionalism of the people that Vicky had surrounded herself with. I knew from past experience that the Vixen employed a staff of over 30 people. The ship was run like any world class resort, providing her guests with a pleasurable experience.
Being aboard the Vixen made the realities of every day life fade away like the lighting of a good opera house. Holding you warmly in the shadows of its stomach while you enjoyed the presentation of the evening onstage.
Looking around after joining the ladies in the hot tub I noticed that we were centered on the port side of a swimming pool that looked like it was 30 feet across. We weren’t outside on the upper deck because it had a heliport, so I guessed that we were one or two decks below.
Amy giggled. “What’s the matter Jeff? You don’t like what I was hiding under my wrap?”
What’s not to like. The bikini she was wearing was little more than publicly legal lingerie. Though in many places around the world it would be questionable wearing two tiny pieces of fabric like that. But I don’t think that very many men would complain about it at all.
“I’m just wondering where your weapon is concealed,” I dead panned.
“You’re a perv, you know that boss,” Amy said, barely keeping a grin off her face.
I continued with the playful conversation. “I’m just a simple, honest man, Amy.”
We laughed and finished our drinks.
“Jeez, you didn’t eat or nothing huh? You just bunny banged all night,” Gina said.
I glared at her. “You’re such a shit!”
“Damn, Cindy, your story with what happened with Carl got me so wet I may have to run home and change my panties,” Gina said.
We looked at each other and started laughing as we went our separate ways to go home.
I was so infatuated with Carl Covington that it was dangerous. The sex was wild and crazy. He said mean things to me. It was so intense, I just had to have more.
I shrugged. “I like to have fun, just like anybody else.”
“Trust me Jeff, you’re not like anybody else. Your reactions to this whole mess with Cindy is atypical and it still surprises me. The depth of compassion and thoughtfulness that you display for the consideration of others before your own is so endearing,” Vicky said.
I watched Vicky scoop up some more caviar and spread it on a Blini with some Creme Fraiche.
“Your wife wishes you a happy anniversary!” The caption said.
“Too bad you couldn’t wait around to see it in person,” the SMS said.
“Son of a bitch!” I blurted out before I could control my reaction.
My face flushed into a mask of rage.
Amy came over to me and embraced me in a smothering bear hug while Vicky picked up her phone.
Biting her lower lip Amy turned away from me and grabbed a danish.
“Here it’s blueberry!” She enthused.
I opened my mouth to say something else and Amy just stuffed half the danish pastry in.
“Yum! Yum!” She giggled at my consternation.
Why do I even bother? I can never remain upset or win an argument with any of my close staff because they were all head-strong independent women that didn’t take any crap.
They all manipulated my emotional stability like a mother does a young child and I found it reassuring and comforting that they were all doing it because they genuinely cared about me.
My head was concealed under her skirt, so Vicky couldn’t see the big grin on my face.
The more she struggled, the more I grinned at her frustration of denial. I was grinning so hard that my cheeks actually hurt.
“What’s wrong? Do you want me to stop?” I asked innocently.
“Yes! What? No!” Vicky panted.
I laughed. “Which is it?”