Author's note: the following story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The author wishes to express his gratitude to rozezwild for her editing to make this a better story.
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Oh, man! I had my doubts about this new job. I had never done anything like it and didn't know if I could do it when it came down to the rubber meeting the road. I'd just have to try it and find out.
The problem was that I needed a job. I had to have some income, to save some money through the summer, or my first semester in college just wouldn't happen. And there were a bevy of jobs out there this summer to choose from. The economy was tight and so were opportunities to earn money.
So I took this job. I mean, it wasn't like I hadn't looked for something else. I had diligently scoured the want ads in the papers for something ... anything ... that looked more promising. There just wasn't anything. So I took it.
The job was the back end of a telemarketing operation. Yeah, I know, but back then, telemarketing had not earned such a bad name as it has today. I'll admit that our operation did a lot ultimately to add to the distastefulness of the industry but at the time it seemed innocent enough.
The set up had a large office full of callers sitting shoulder-to-shoulder making call after call. As soon as someone answered, the caller went into a spiel to try to get the buyer to take a series of magazine subscriptions. We had a list of 56 magazines to chose from, something for everyone, and the buyer got X number of subscriptions for Y dollars. As an added incentive, we had a big thick multi-color hardback illustrated cookbook as a "free gift" for purchasing the subscriptions.
When the callers got someone to agree to look at our stuff, they wrote up an order with the buyer's name and address. Those sheets were divided into different parts of the city and doled out to the four or five "closers." The closers went out to the buyer's house, got the buyer to make their magazine selections and provide a check for a down payment. In turn, the brand new cook book was left for the buyer. That is, if the closer could get the buyer's signature on the dotted line, which turned out to be the hard part. The problem was that our "subscription rates" were just barely lower than newsstand prices and much higher than normal subscription rates.
My first day on the job - a Monday, the manager of the operation talked to me about how to close deals. He emphasized that I had to know my stuff, to be confident, and to get in and get out. That was the way to make money, since I would be paid on the basis of the number of deals I got signed. Since that was also the first day the callers were working, I wouldn't actually go out to make any visits until the following day, when he would go with me to show me how it was done.
On Tuesday morning, we left the office about 9:45. Mr. Matthews said that you didn't want to get started too early because people were generally not ready to do business early in the morning and tended to reject all logic. Later in the day, they would be more receptive. Since my territory was in the southeast quadrant of the city, we had a 40 minute drive to get to our first stop.
Mr. Matthews took the sales slip and knocked on the door. A fiftyish woman answered the door and, when he had introduced us, invited us to come in. She sat on the sofa and he sat beside her, indicating that I should sit in the facing chair. He took the sales slip, with the list of possible magazine choices, and gave her a very polished spiel, covered the advantages of the free cook book, and got her to make her selections and sign the form. She got her checkbook and came back, writing a check for the initial amount. We were back in the car in about 35 minutes.
No one was home at either of the next two places so they went to the bottom of the list to retry later.
At the fourth place, we were greeted by another fiftyish woman, who escorted us into her living room. Again Mr. Matthews sat beside the woman and began to go into the routine. However I noticed a marked difference. The woman was wearing a pair of short cutoff jeans and a loose blouse. He sat very close to her and every chance he got, his hand would brush against her leg. Every time he would reach over to point out something on the list, his hand would brush her leg a little higher when he drew back.
When I first noticed the touching, I figured it was accidental. Then when it kept happening, I figured it was just a matter of time before she called the police or at least threw us out. But no! Her reaction wasn't like that at all! Instead her legs seemed to be spreading. Her left thigh was pressed against his right. She seemed to be moving backward on the sofa, leaving more of her legs open to his touch. Her eyes, instead of being wide open as they had been when she greeted us, were half closed as if she were in a trance. Having had very limited experience with women myself, I was amazed at what was happening.
But not nearly as amazed as I was when he blatantly dropped the palm of his hand to the center of her crotch and began rubbing. She fell back against the sofa cushion and sighed. The look on Mr. Matthews' face said that he knew he had her. She started mewling and he shifted his focus quickly to her blouse, whose buttons gave little resistance. She wasn't wearing a bra and he massaged her right tit while he lowered his mouth to her left nipple, licking and sucking the hard protuberance.
The woman seemed to be totally under his spell. I wasn't sure what had signaled him that she was ready but I watched, hoping to learn. He soon had the woman begging him for more as he manipulated her boobs. He shifted a hand back to her shorts and after a little fumbling, had them unbuttoned and unzipped. She even lifted her hips when he started working the shorts down her legs and followed them with her white rayon panties. She flipped them off her feet, the wet panties landing in my lap. I lifted them to my nose but kept my gaze on their activities.
Mr. Matthews slipped his fingers into her slit, spreading the soft petals and exposing her wet opening. He slipped his middle finger in past the second knuckle, working it in and out for several minutes. Then another finger slipped in by the first and, a few moments later, a third joined them. By then the woman seemed to have lost control of her muscles; her head was rolling from side to side and her legs kept closing and opening.
Finally he turned so he could take off his pants and shorts, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his coat. Then he turned back to the woman and half lifted, half pulled her over on top of him. Straddling his form, she quickly sat down and enveloped his raging member and lay on his chest. I wasn't even sure she made those moves consciously; she seemed to be in a sexual daze.
I sat there watching his cock going in and out of her pussy so very slowly as he used both hands on her buttocks to lift her up and then let her fall back down his shaft. Every time he squeezed her ass to lift her again, her globes would spread, leaving me staring at her puckered ass hole. He looked over her shoulder and saw me licking my lips and I'm sure he knew what my gaze was on.
After several minutes, he dropped a hand to his jacket on the end of the sofa. When it came out, he flicked something toward me.
"Hey, get your pants off and cover yourself with that. Then get over here and help me."
I wasn't sure what he had in mind - at that time, I'd never had a piece of ass and I'd never even thought about ... never even heard about ... a double penetration. But I did what he said. When I stepped over, he spread his knees, then spread her cheeks with both hands. "See that? That's your target. Take it slow and easy, son. I guarantee you won't be sorry."
I was kind of turned off by the sight of his hairy legs and knew that I couldn't get close to her without touching him. Ugh! But then that was not enough of a turn-off to make me stay away from that big round butt with its pretty puckered target in the center. I moved up close to her, pointing my greased pole at her unoccupied opening.
I heard him whispering to her, "Just relax. You're going to love it, babe."
I eased forward, watching the bulbous head of my dick push the opening out. Just as the head popped inside her ring of muscle, her head jerked back and I thought her mouth opened but Mr. Matthews covered it with his own and in a few moments she settled back down.
Her anus was unbelievably tight and I worked back and forth slowly, just a little bit at a time, little by little lengthening my strokes until finally my crotch mashed up against her bottom. I know I wasn't really experienced at sex but this felt so strange - I could actually feel his cock inside her pussy and it felt as if they were in the same hole rubbing against each other. I knew there was a thin layer of flesh between us but it wasn't noticeable.
I began to stroke in and out, being careful to keep stop when the rim of my member touched her sphincter. I hadn't thought about how it would work but it was amazing how the dynamics seemed to click. As I backed out of her tight ass, I pulled her body down Mr. Matthews shaft in her pussy. When I pushed back in, her whole body eased forward, pulling his cock back out of her cunt. They didn't have to do anything, because I was essentially fucking them both.