A Vulnerable Housewife - Chapter One - Business Trip To New Orleans free porn video

Chapter one - Taking care of business

David gets laid off

I remember that fateful day, when everything changed as if it were yesterday. It was about ten o’clock in the morning on a Friday, nearly two years ago when my David called home.

“Connie, I have some bad news.”

“What happened?” I asked nervously.

“I got laid off. Permanently furloughed is the actual term they used. They let sixty-eight of us go today. Rumors are that there will be more layoffs in other locations next week,” David said. There was a noticeable quiver in his voice indicating that the news had truly shaken him.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. Come on home and we’ll talk about it,” I replied, searching for the right thing to say.

“No, a bunch of us are going to stop off at Legends for a drink before we head home,” David responded before adding, “On the good news side, they did give me three month’s severance pay to tide us over until I get another job.”

Legends was a local bar that David and his friends frequented.

“Well that’s something at least. David, it’s only ten o’clock. Legends isn’t even open yet. Come on home,” I pleaded.

“I have to pack up my desk and sign the legal release to get the severance check. Legends opens at eleven. I couldn’t get there before then no matter what. I’ll have to turn in my company car too. So I’ll need you to pick me up at the bar. I’ll call you when I want you to come get me.”

“If you don’t have your company car, how are you getting to Legends?” I asked.

“Stewart is driving several of us over there. He said he’d buy the first three rounds.”

Stewart was David’s boss and good friend. They had known each other since college. I realized that it must have been hard for Stewart to lay off his good friend.

“Okay, call me when you are ready to be picked up.”

It was a little after four. I still had not heard from David. I decided I would go check on him.

I entered Legends and immediately spotted the raucous group of drunks in the back corner of the bar.

David and his buddies had pulled three tables together. There were twelve or fourteen recently laid off drunks loudly complaining about ‘the fuckin’ Saudis fucking America in the ass’ by driving the price of oil so low.”

They were drunk, loud, obnoxious and borderline belligerent.

It took some persuasion, but I finally convinced David to abandon his friends and come home with me.

As I look back over the past two years and reflect upon how my life has changed, I can honestly say that the change really started on that fateful Friday in August, 2014.

Setting the stage

I am twenty-six and my husband is twenty eight. We have been married six years and live in Lafayette, Louisiana.

By any objective standard, I am considered attractive. I have long blonde hair, large green eyes, full lips and an engaging smile. At five foot ten inches tall with long legs, a slender figure, and smallish but perky breasts, I have often been told I should be a model.

I will confess, I enjoy these comments as well as the looks of admiration I attract from men and women alike. I never even considered cheating on my husband, but knowing that others found me attractive, perhaps even desirable, did wonders for my self-esteem.

I married David, while we were both students at LSU in Baton Rouge. When David graduated in 2011, we moved back to my home town, Lafayette, Louisiana where David accepted a job with an oilfield service company.

David was quickly promoted to field engineer. The hours were long, the travel schedule was brutal, but the compensation was excellent.

David’s job allowed us to live a very comfortable life. We bought our first home in an upscale neighborhood.

Because of the frequent business travel demanded by David’s job, I only saw my husband during those brief periods when he was not sitting on some well site either offshore in the Gulf of Mexico or on some barge in the snake infested waters of the Louisiana bayous.

In short, we were financially secure, and we kept our marriage alive despite the long periods during which we were separated. It was not a perfect existence, but we managed to make it work for us.

Then in 2014, the bottom fell out of the energy business. The global price of oil dropped rapidly from over $100 per barrel to less than $35 per barrel. Cutbacks, re-organizations, forced retirements and layoffs were rampant throughout the industry.

David and I saw friends and relatives impacted in various ways. So it was not totally unexpected when we were impacted ourselves.

I was concerned when David was ‘permanently furloughed’, but the news devastated him.

David immediately started looking for another engineering position, however, with the entire industry in a state of disarray due to low oil prices, his prospects were slim to none. There were simply no jobs to be found for a young engineer with my husband's limited years of experience.

David and I both realized that if we were going to keep our house, I needed to find a job, and find one quickly.

I was fortunate to land a job working as Tom's executive secretary. Tom was the President and the primary owner of a company that manufactured specialty chemicals for oil companies throughout south Louisiana and offshore Gulf of Mexico.

Tom started the company nearly thirty years ago, and had a small, but loyal client base.

Tom was more than just the President and principal owner of his company. Tom was a dear family friend. I had known Tom since I was a little girl. I remember my family attending Tom’s wife’s funeral when she succumbed to ovarian cancer six or seven years ago.

If I am really honest, I must admit that my getting this job had more to do with my father's friendship with Tom than it did with my somewhat limited secretarial skills.

Nonetheless, I was determined to work hard, learn the business and make sure Tom never regretted giving me this opportunity. The salary was far less than what David had been making as a field engineer, but it was sufficient to allow us to continue to pay our mortgage as well as our other essential bills if we scrimped and were careful.

In the months following getting laid off, I saw David gradually lose hope of finding another engineering position. I watched helplessly as he started to fall into the bottle. He fell into a pattern of starting to drink in the afternoon, and was often 'tipsy' by the time I got home at six o'clock.

I tried to talk with my husband about his drinking, but he'd become defensive and belligerent claiming he was only drinking beer and that I should ‘cut him some slack’.

I understood the reasons for David’s despair. I even empathized with what he was dealing with. However, it was difficult to feel close to him during this period. Our sex life had become non-existent.

Although I was distressed as I witnessed my husband wallow in self-pity and depression, I was genuinely enjoying working for Tom. Tom was kind, witty, intelligent and charming.

At fifty two years old, he had that distinguished look of an older man of power and influence that some younger women find so very attractive. He also kept himself physically fit.

I wondered silently why he never dated. He certainly would be a catch for any woman.

We developed a close relationship that balanced serious work with light banter and harmless flirtation. Because he had known me since my childhood, and was still close friends with my father, I trusted him and felt safe around him, which allowed me to flirt a bit more than I should have.

Tom never made any advances or inappropriate remarks, but he certainly let me know that he enjoyed seeing me, and found me attractive and fun. He frequently said, "If I were twenty years younger, your husband wouldn’t have a chance.’"

I resisted the urge to tell him, "If you had any idea that my husband hasn’t touched me in months, you’d know that your age is not an issue here."

Tom’s business is threatened:

It was the week before Christmas, 2015, when Tom came into the office visibly upset. I followed him into his office and asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?” he barked back at me. His response was uncharacteristically curt and harsh.

Immediately his demeanor changed. “Connie, I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m feeling overwhelmed right now and I’m pissed.”

“Who are you pissed at? Hopefully not me?”

“No, I’m not mad at you, far from it. You are my one ‘ray of sunshine’ around here.”

“So what’s wrong?”

“It’s that fucking supply chain manager over Gulf States Energy. He’s demanding a twenty two percent price reduction effective January first. He says it’s needed because of the low oil prices. Connie, there’s no way I can afford to cut prices that much…and I sure can’t afford to lose these sales either. He’s one of our biggest clients. But he’s simply not listening to reason,” Tom complained, talking as much to himself as he was to me.

“I’m sorry you are having to deal with this. I guess the entire industry is going through cost cutting efforts,” I responded, trying to be supportive.

“I know these guys are under pressure just like the rest of us, but they don’t seem to understand that I can’t sell products at a loss.”

“Surely they understand that. I mean no one is going to sell them chemicals at that price, right?” I asked rhetorically.

“No, that’s the thing. Someone will simply water down their chemicals and sell them a diluted product. And the supply chain at Gulf States guys won’t give a fuck. They’ll get to claim that they got a huge cost savings. But the chemicals won’t work as well. It will cause the guys running the facilities absolute fits. It’ll be a completely fucked up decision. And on top of that, I’ll be a huge step closer to being out of business.”

Tom never used profanity in my presence before which told me that he was frustrated and concerned, perhaps even scared.

Additionally, Tom’s last comment shocked me back to reality. If he lost this account, he was going to have to start cutting personnel too, and I would likely lose my job in the process. With David out of work, I needed this job. I needed it badly.

“Tom, what can I do to help?”

“Nothing, really. I am heading over to New Orleans tomorrow to meet with the technical staff to try to make them understand that cheaper is not necessarily better. I will take the head of supply chain out for dinner and drinks tomorrow night as well. Hopefully I can ‘pull a rabbit out of the hat’ and save this account.”

Tom did not sound confident about the likelihood of salvaging this account.

“You should take me with you.”

“Are you serious? It’s an overnight trip. And honestly, Connie, the meetings in the afternoon with the technical staff will be completely professional , but dinner and drinks tomorrow night might get a bit raunchy. I know this guy. I will probably have to take him to a strip club, or worse.”

“Tom, I’m not a vestal virgin. I’ve been to Mardi Gras and I’ve seen plenty of debauchery in the French Quarter. I can handle myself and I think I can be very persuasive when I want to be. And your company and my job hang in the balance, right?”

Tom was still not convinced. “What will your husband say?”

“Oh, I doubt David would even notice I didn’t come home. He’ll be drinking beer all evening until he falls asleep on the couch." I replied, more candidly than I intended.

“So he’s not doing too well, huh?”

“No, and I’m disappointed in him. He seems to be wallowing in self-pity most days.”

“Try not to be too hard on him. It’s tough being out of work.”

“I know it is, Tom. So let’s make sure you and I are not in the same boat. Let me help you convince these guys that they want to keep their business with us, and they want to allow us to remain profitable.”

Tom, ultimately agreed to allow me to accompany him on this business trip.

That night, over dinner, I explained the situation to David. I explained that the threat of losing this account was very real, and if we did, I would be out of a job. I was pleased that David not only understood my need to accompany Tom on this trip, he was actually supportive.

“Connie, you need to understand that these oilfield guys will expect you to flirt and joke with them. They may say some pretty crude things, pardon the pun. They will understand where the limits are, but you can’t get too offended, and you’ll need to flirt back a bit to keep them interested,” David coached.

“I get it. Flirt, but don’t let things get too far out of hand. I think I can handle these guys for one evening.”

“I might have some guys over for poker night then,” David said, indicating I really wouldn’t be missed.

“Try not to break anything.”

The next morning, I met Tom at the office and we headed west on I-10 towards New Orleans around 8:30 a.m.

I wore a navy blue business suit, white blouse and blue pumps.

“You look very professional, very nice,” Tom complimented me.

“Thank you. I did pack something a bit racier for our entertaining this evening, but I felt that I should look professional in their office this afternoon.”

“Good plan. What are you wearing tonight?”

“You’ll see. I want it to be a surprise, but I think you’ll like it,” I teased.

We checked into the Ritz Carlton just a block off Bourbon Street around ten-thirty. Tom and I had adjoining rooms on the eleventh floor. We threw our bags into our rooms and headed down Canal Street for our lunch meeting with the small group of engineers who were responsible for overseeing the application of our chemicals.

I did not understand most of the conversation, but I found the dynamics between Tom and these younger, very nerdy engineers quite interesting.

For the first time in my life I really understood the old joke, how can you tell if you are in the elevator with an extroverted engineer? Answer: he stares at your shoes instead of his own!

These guys were socially awkward, but clearly they knew chemicals.

Most of the discussion went right over my head, but Tom clearly held his own, addressing their concerns one by one. I heard terms such as absorption, film life, scale inhibition and emulsion tendencies being bantered back and forth, not really understanding their meaning. I realized I still had a lot to learn about this business.

I must confess, I found Tom’s knowledge, confidence, poise and charm very appealing, perhaps even sexy. Suddenly, I realized that he really was an attractive fifty two year old man. I wondered why I never really noticed how handsome he was before.

On the ride back to the hotel I was simply gushing my praise.

“You were on fire back there. I am so impressed with how you handled those engineers. You really know your stuff.”

“Well, Connie, I’ve been doing this a long time. I better know my stuff,” he answered with definite confidence, and without a trace of arrogance.

“Well, they certainly can’t change suppliers now,” I declared.

“Connie, it doesn’t work that way. It is critically important to have these guys on our side. If they were not on our side, we’d be fucked. But they don’t have the final say. Procurement has the final say in this company. It’s a stupid system, but that’s how it works here.”

“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to convince the procurement guy that he can’t live without us, huh?”

“If you manage to do that, I’ll have to make you their account manager!” Tom joked.

It was 6:15 p.m. when Tom knocked on the door between our adjoining rooms. I opened the door and invited him in. I was fumbling with the clasp of my pearl necklace.

"Tom, would you help me with this?” I asked as I turned my back to him and lifted up my long blonde hair.

“I certainly will,” Tom said as he clasped the necklace.

“I’m almost ready. I just need to put on my shoes,” I said as I sat on the edge of the king sized bed and laced up the straps of my heels.

“How do I look?” I asked, fishing for compliments. I knew I looked great.

Tom’s face literally beamed as I stood in front of him. I was wearing a black, fairly low cut cocktail dress that flared open as I twirled in front of him, modeling my attire.

“My god, Connie, you look stunning.”

I looked at myself in the mirror, and I had to agree. This dress complimented my tall, sleek figure nicely. The pearl necklace gave the plunging neckline an element of class. I was showing enough cleavage and thigh to hold any man’s attention, but not enough to look cheap or trashy.

“Seriously, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

I felt myself blush, “Well thank you, even if it is not true.”

“It is true. I promise you, it is.”

I took Tom’s arm as we walked through the lobby to the valet parking attendant. Tom’s Audi was waiting for us.

We arrived at Emeril’s Seafood House shortly before seven o’clock. A handsome man in his forties was already seated at our table. I was introduced to Don.

Don stood shook my hand and greeted me warmly.

Over the next two hours, we chatted, drank and dined. I had the swordfish. Both men had the stuffed flounder. Don was pounding down the scotch on rocks and was soon feeling the effects of the alcohol.

I had three glasses of Chardonnay with dinner. I was pretending to be more inebriated than I actually was.

Don was definitely attractive, but at five foot ten inches tall, I was approximately an inch taller than him. With my heels on, I definitely towered over him.

However, Don seemed unconcerned with the fact that in my heels, I was two to three inches taller than he was. While I think self-confidence is an attractive trait in a man, I soon sensed that Don was more than simply confident and self-assured, he was cocky.

Nonetheless, I flirted and feigned interest in every word he slurred. I laughed at his jokes and touched his arm and thigh frequently. He was eating up all this attention.

After we finished our meal, I decided that I needed some time to convince Don that he really wanted to keep us as his company’s main chemical supplier.

“Is there any place we can go for a nightcap? I haven’t been out with two attractive men like this in years. I want to dance.”

“Where are you staying?” Don asked.

“We’re at the Ritz Carlton, down in the quarter.”

“One of my favorite dance clubs is ‘Napoleon’s Itch’. It is a couple of blocks from the Ritz.” Don suggested.

“Okay, I’m game. But I want both of you to dance with me, at least one dance each. Deal?” I insisted as I placed my hand on Don’s upper thigh.

“Okay, but I can’t stay too late. My wife will have my head on a stake if I am too late,” Don replied.

This was very valuable information. It meant that I could step up the flirting and not worry about Don pressuring me to allow him to accompany me back to my room.

Don followed Tom and me to the valet parking at the Ritz. I walked the six blocks down Bourbon Street between Tom and Don, clutching both men’s arm.

We entered Napoleon’s Itch and found a table near the small dance floor. Don ordered another scotch rocks, his sixth. Tom opted for a draft beer. I had the best mojito I have ever had.

There was a three piece jazz band playing.

“Okay, boys entertain me. Who is going to dance with me first?”

Don jumped at the chance and led me to the tiny dance floor.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body into his. I felt his penis throbbing against my leg, as I massaged the back of his head and pressed my breasts into his face.

His hands traced up and down my back and sides, stealing the occasion feel of the side of my tits. I leaned my head down and hissed into his ear, “You are a very good dancer. If I wasn’t married I’d be all over you tonight.”

His penis was pulsing regularly against my thigh now.

One song ended and another started, His hands found their way to my nice round bottom. I moaned as he squeezed the cheeks of my ass, as I continued to grind into him.

We danced three straight songs before I whispered into his ear, “I need to sit down. You are getting me all wound up out here. Thank you for the dance. That was fun.”

Don replied, “I enjoyed it too.”

I traced my hand up his thigh, allowing my fingers the softly graze over his pulsing erection, and said coyly, “I can see that. I can tell that you enjoyed that a lot.”

Don turned to Tom and said, “You need to bring this little lady back with you next time you come to New Orleans.”

“Well Don, if we still have your business, I will make Connie your account manager.”

“Then it’s a done deal. You have our business.”

“Well, Don it is not that simple. I cannot give you a 22% cost reduction you’re demanding. My profit margin is only 14%,” Tom countered honestly.

“Well, what can you give me? I need something. You need to understand the pressure I am under to cut costs. Seriously, what is the best you can do?”

Tom sat silently for several moments before responding, “How about this. Until the price of oil starts to recover, I’ll cut my profit margin in half. That equates to a seven percent cost cut effective January first.”

I squeezed Don’s thigh as he answered, “Okay, I’ll take a seven percent cut. You need to know that I never would have accepted this deal before you introduced me to this beautiful young lady.”

“I can see that,” Tom replied. “But you need to know, you can flirt with her, and dance with her all you want, but I’m not pimping her out her. This is a good quality lady. And she’s married. Just so we are clear.

“Hell, I know that, but she’s a fun dance partner.”

“So I’ve heard.

I was enjoying the listening to Tom and Don debate how wonderfully charming I was, but my bladder dictated that I visit the ladies room.

“Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me for a moment…this lady has to go winky-tink,” I said in my sexiest ‘little girl’ voice

Don laughed, “Well, I need to bleed my lizard too. I’ll walk you to the ladies’ room.”

I noticed that Don kept his hand on the small of my back as he guided me to the back of the bar, down a small hallway. The restroom doors were labeled ‘innies’ and ‘outies’ to distinguish the ladies’ room from the men’s room.

“Connie, I never would have agreed to Tom’s proposal if I wasn’t so enthralled with you.”

“Well, that’s sweet of you to say that, but I want you to know, you really did make the right business decision for your company. No one will work harder to give you the very best product at the very best price than Tom. And he won’t screw you guys around lowering his prices but then diluting the products the way the other chemical suppliers will.”

“You know something? You are not just a pretty face. You’re a smart lady. And, one more thing, I know you are right about Tom; he’s a good man and an honest man.”

Don’s comment made me feel really very good. I realized I was making a genuine contribution on this business trip. Suddenly, Don did not seem so arrogant. In fact, he seemed downright likable at the moment.

“Come here,” I said taking Don’s hand. I led him several steps further down the hallway into a tiny little alcove. “This is for being such a sweetheart tonight.”

I kissed him fully on the mouth. As Don returned my kiss, I took his hand and brought up to my breast. I opened my mouth to accept his tongue as he gently teased my nipple.

I moaned into his mouth as we French-kissed in the shadows for a minute or two. I could feel his erection pulsing against my leg.

I broke off the kiss and hugged him while he continued to gently tweak my very erect nipple.

“If I wasn’t married…well let's just say I wouldn't be sending you back to your wife tonight if I didn't have a husband at home. We better get back before Tom comes looking for us. I don't think he would approve if he caught us back here. But, I want you to think about me next time you’re slipping it to you wife, okay?” I teased. I took his hand and pressed it firmly into my breast before slowly removing it. “I better go pee. I’ll see you back at the table.”

I was surprised at how damp the gusset of my panties were. I may have started out just flirting and teasing our biggest client, but he was actually getting me pretty wound up.

I returned to the table to find that someone had ordered me another mojito. I normally would not have a fifth drink, but we were walking, not driving back to the hotel and I was feeling exceptionally good about myself.

I sipped my drink slowly listening to Tom and Don playfully insult each other the way guys will do. There seemed to be a genuine camaraderie between them.

They bantered back and forth for several minutes until Don said, “I’m going to have to run. It’s after ten now. My wife is not going to believe my business dinner lasted much past ten o’clock.”

We walked together back to the hotel. The valet retrieved Don’s car while Tom and I waited with him.

Don and Tom shook hands. He hugged me and kissed me quickly on the lips. It was a closed mouth kiss, nothing like the tongue probing he'd given me in the shadows of the hallway back at the bar. Don and I both had the good sense to reign it in a bit in Tom's presence.

“Thank you again, Connie for a wonderful evening. Promise me you’ll come back to see me soon.”

“I promise."

“Good night. I need to go home and wake up the wife. I think she needs a good pickle tickle tonight.”

I smiled and said, "Well do her some good. Make it worth her while.”

“I always do. I always do,” he said as he leaned closer and whispered in my ear, “But I'll definitely be thinking about you tonight,” before tipping the valet and getting in his car.

I held Tom’s arm as he escorted me through the hotel lobby. He waited until we were on the elevator before thanking me.

“Connie, I do not know how to thank you enough. You saved the company tonight.”

“I was glad to do it. And I really didn’t do anything. I just flirted with him, made him feel like a Don Juan, and rubbed myself against him on the dance floor.”

“No it was much more. I was really worried about losing this account. But when I saw you on the dance floor with him, I was worried that you were going to get pressured to do something more, something I would not want you to do.”

“Tom, I told you, I can be persuasive. I knew just how far to push him where I could still extricate myself. I wasn’t going to let this get out of hand.”

Tom nodded and smiled.

He walked me to my door, and watched me enter my room.

Upon entering my room, I saw that we had left the doors connecting the adjoining rooms open. I stood there staring at the open door leading to Tom’s room.

I heard him enter his room, and approach the open door. “I guess I should close this, huh?”

I took a deep breath. My heart was pounding in my chest as I heard myself utter the words, “You can leave it open if you want.”

I felt myself blush at my boldness. Tom was my boss, and my father’s friend. I was a married woman. What was I thinking?

“You want me to leave it open?” Tom asked nervously. He was making sure he understood what I was saying.

Perhaps it was the three glasses of chardonnay and the two mojitos, or perhaps it was the fact that my husband had not touched me intimately in over three months, but I was very attracted to Tom at this moment. I did not want this evening to end. I did not want to be alone.

“I think you still owe me a dance, remember?”

He smiled and replied, “I do remember something about that.”

I walked over to the TV and found a music channel. Tom cleared a small area of the room to make a small dance floor for us.

He took off his suit coat, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his top shirt button.

Tom was a tall, powerfully built man. Even with my high heels, he was a couple of inches taller than me. The gray highlights around his temples made him look distinguished. I found comfort in his maturity. His success today, his judgment and knowledge all served to make me want to open up and accept him.

I cannot deny it, he reminded me of my own father, but at this particular moment, that association only served to endear him to me; it made me trust him more. I felt that I could give myself to him without fear, without regret. He would never betray me, never hurt me. And most importantly, at that moment, I knew he would not disappoint me.

I took Tom’s hand and led him to the area that he cleared and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“I really enjoyed watching you work today. I loved the way you handed those engineers this afternoon. And the way you closed the deal with Don tonight, well let’s just say, I thought it was very sexy,” I said honestly.

“Connie, you deserve all the credit. You had Don eating out of the palm of your hand. I just sealed the deal.”

“We made a pretty good team today, huh?”

“We sure did,” Tom agreed as he hugged me warmly.

I liked the fact that rather than grabbing me, or grinding into me, Tom was actually looking into my eyes and holding me as we danced. I felt loved and safe in his arms.

I’m not sure exactly how I knew it, but I knew that Tom would never pressure me or push me sexually. I sensed he would allow me to take this as far as I wanted, but he would be comfortable with me stopping at any point.

How far did I want to take this? I wasn’t sure. After all, I was a married woman. And while my marriage was not in great shape, I had never cheated on David before. Did I really want to change that?

I was not prepared to make any decision right now. I knew I wanted to stay with Tom tonight, to hold him and to have him hold me. But beyond that, I was going to play it by ear.

It was naïve to think I could spend the night in his arms and we’d behave ourselves. It certainly was unrealistic to think that I could allow Tom in my bed and still keep my marriage vows. However, as I danced with him, I thought that we might just hold each other through the night. Silly huh?

But his touch was intoxicating. It had been so long since I had been held, and touched, I needed more.

(A special note of thanks to Lisa and Don who have assisted me in proofreading and editing this story. Their input has improved the quality significantly.)

Coming soon: Chapter two – I invite Tom to share my bed