Message-ID: <891eli$9705251932@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: Path: qz!news.accessus.net!not-for-mail X-Path-Preload: news.accessus.net preloaded to thwart rogue canceller there Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: From: Ole.Joe@poboxes.com (Ole Joe) Subject: RP Dafney Dewitt: Castaways Castaways By Dafney Cecil Dewitt __________________________________________ Copyright 1993, by the author. All rights reserved. Any reproduction of this work outside the confines of the usenet news group, alt.sex.stories, without the explicit permission of the author is prohibited. __________________________________________ This is a story for ecology freaks. It shows what might go wrong if environmental ethics were allowed to creep into our sex lives. Which do you prefer, paper or plastic? "The advantage of credit cards over money is that they can be used over and over again." - Anonymous __________________________________________ When Jennifer Sacks was paged by the vice president of Retro-Recyclers, Ltd., during the Thanksgiving Party, she thought he wanted sex. Jennifer was wrong. It was strictly business. "It's over." Bart Fuller told her. "Just like that?" Jennifer asked with hurt filling her voice. "Would you rather go down on your knees one last time?" "You bastard! Who's replacing me?" "Donna Lays, my new executive secretary." Furious at him and angry with herself for thinking her office affair would last forever, Jennifer turned to leave. She felt empty inside. He had consumed the best years of her life like a cheap bottle of wine, and now he was dumping her. He was as cold and efficient in his extra- marital affairs as he was in managing his wife's business. "Wait! Don't leave!" Bart shouted. With her back to him, Jennifer's heart held a flicker of hope. Maybe the flame of love would re-ignite in an unexpected burst of passion. She turned around. Bart held out a white envelope. With trembling fingers, she tore the it open. Inside was a brand new $100 bill. Jennifer felt her face burn with shame and anger. "So this is what you thought of me?" "Yeah, you were a cheap date," said Bart smiling. On the verge of tears, Jennifer turned to leave. She refused to give the bastard the pleasure of watching her cry. Giving her the money, was Bart's way of telling her not to go. He wanted to prolong the good-bye. He wanted to see her suffer. It was beyond cruel. He had used her, and now he wanted to abuse her. Jennifer refused to let him watch her cry. Sick with anger, trembling inside, she fled the room. In the women's rest room, Jennifer's tears turned to ice. When she stopped crying, she found herself staring at the recycling company logo. The bright red decals were on all the rest room doors, a red triangle with three green arrows pointing in a counterclockwise direction. She wondered why the logo was a triangle and not a circle. She wondered why the arrows went in a counter clockwise direction. She refused to accept being dumped. She rebelled at the idea of being treated like a piece of trash. Jennifer vowed revenge. She reigned in her emotions. A direct approach would not work. Kicking her boss, Bart Fuller in the balls would be extremely satisfying, but would result in her being fired which she could not afford. She would have to be indirect. Maybe, she could apply re-cycling to her sex life. If moving forward was impossible, she could go in reverse just like the arrows on the re-cycling logo. She could not kick Bart in the groin, but she might be able to reverse the blow. Mrs. Fuller was the major stockholder and true owner of Retro- Recycler's. Her husband, Bart was only the acting vice- president. His position, money, and status were all gained through the good graces of his wealthy wife. Standing behind a large orange pumpkin, Jennifer Sacks stared with undisguised rancor at Donna Lays, Bart's new executive secretary. The true focus of her hatred was missing from the Thanksgiving Office party. A few minutes later, Bart Fuller and his wife Lana walked into the room. Jennifer did not want to hurt Donna Lays. She even felt sympathy for Bart's newest conquest knowing how he would use and discard her. She wanted to hurt Bart. She wanted to hurt him bad, but she needed a plan. Jennifer watched as Donna discretely slipped out the door when Mrs. Fuller appeared. About five minutes later, Bart's pager went off. He feigned irritation, gave apologies to his wife, and followed Donna Lays like a dog in heat. Jennifer welcomed Mrs. Fuller. "Hi, I'm Jennifer. Your husband's ex-secretary." "Are you enjoying the party?" "Yes, I just love the decorations." Talking with Mrs. Fuller was much easier then Jennifer imagined. With a sweep of her hand, Mrs. Fuller noted with pride that all of the paper decorations were created from re-cycled materials. The huge orange pumpkins, the plates, the cups, and even the plastic punch bowl were all made from re-cycled products. Her eyes gleamed with pride. She bubbled with undisguised child-like enthusiasm at the benefits of re-cycling. Mrs. Fuller described the business of re-cycling as rescuing castaways. It sounded romantic. Castaways. She could have been talking about rescuing ship- wrecked passengers from an exotic island. You had to give the woman credit. She had created a multi-million dollar re-cycle business. She had built an empire out of garbage, and managed to make the whole thing sound sexy. Jennifer envied Mrs. Fuller's romantic visions, but she had her own agenda. She wanted Mr. Fuller's dick in a wringer, and she wanted to be there to twist the crank. With hopes of catching Bart in 'flagrante delicto', Jennifer made her move. "I have something to show you." Jennifer told Mrs. Fuller guiding her out the door. "Is it the new quarterly statement?" "No, it's a surprise." Mrs. Fuller followed Jennifer toward her husband's office. Jennifer, pretending politeness, allowed Mrs. Fuller to enter first. "My God!" Mrs. Fuller shouted, "I had no idea!" Jennifer hurried into the office to see it with her own eyes, but what she saw was not what she expected. A huge paper turkey hung from the ceiling. "How wonderful!" exclaimed Mrs. Fuller clapping her hands together. Hiding her disappointment, Jennifer locked the door behind her, and confronted Mrs. Fuller in a serious confidential voice. "Mrs. Fuller . . ." "Call me Lana." "Lana, I have something to confess." "I know." "You do?" "Yes." "About your husband, Bart . . ." "What about Bart?" "He likes women." "So do I." Jennifer's eyes met Mrs. Fuller's in a moment of truth. "Bart uses you as his excuse." "Excuse for what?" "For fooling around." Mrs. Fuller's face darkened. She attempted to conceal her anger about her husband using her as an excuse for having office affairs. "Bart and I both like the same things." "He wasn't lying then?" "No. Well, maybe, just a little." Mrs. Fuller gave Jennifer's hand a light squeeze encouraging her to continue the conversation, but winced to let Jennifer know the truth hurt. "I wanted you to know the truth." "What truth?" "I turned him down?" "My husband?" "Yes." "He wanted you?" Jennifer's heart pounded. Could she do it? Probably not. It would destroy Bart Fuller, if she could win his wife's heart. Would she do it? Maybe. Hate pushed her forward. "Yes, but I didn't want him." "What do you want?" "You." "Me?" Mrs. Fuller gave Jennifer a tight coy smile. She was clearly enjoying this verbal duel. She sat down on the top of her husband's desk letting her legs drift apart. "Why would you want me?" "Well, your attractive . . ." "Yes." ". . . and intelligent" "Yes." ". . . and I think you like me." Mrs. Fuller reached out and touched Jennifer's hair. "You're very pretty." "Yes, but what about Bart?" "He's smearing my reputation isn't he?" "Yes." "Bart is having office affairs isn't he?" "Yes, he is." Mrs. Fuller's hands fell to Jennifer's neck and gently caressed her shoulders while applying steady downward pressure. "Would you like to help me teach Bart a lesson?" "Yes. Oh, yes." "Lift my dress." "Mrs. Fuller . . ." "Call me Lana." "What about Bart?" With her right hand, Mrs. Fuller pressed on the back of Jennifer's head forcing her to kneel. "We'll both take care of Bart." This was just enough encouragement for Jennifer to slide Lana's dress up over her thighs. The eager hands behind her head pulled her mouth toward Mrs. Fuller's open thighs. As Lana Fuller pushed Jennifer's head into her moist aching pussy, she felt Jennifer flinch. Lana smiled. She stopped pushing. She savored the moment. Mrs. Lana Fuller liked her women straight with just a dash of hesitation. Jennifer's reluctance was an aphrodisiac for Lana. She was wet with anticipation. Let Jennifer make the move. All Lana did was wait. There was nothing quite as raw as two women having sex. It was even raunchier when one of the women was not a lesbian. "Lick me" she commanded. She heard Jennifer attempt a muffled reply. At the first light touch of Jennifer's tongue, Lana thrust her hips forward to increase the friction. Perfect. Just perfect. What really topped it off, was that nothing would be wasted. Lana would use Jennifer until she was all used up. Mrs. Fuller needed to give her husband an extra month with Donna Lays. This would be his reward for knowing exactly how to re-cycle. "Lick me" she ordered. ___________________________________________________ Author Note: If you liked this story, please look for other stories by Dafney Dewitt posted to Alt.Sex.Stories. Donna's Humiliation Bad Touching Ginsu Memories Morning Kisses Midnight Intruder Jazzercise Double Bang Bosnian Babes In Rapeland Spare Change A Long Walk Disrobing Mother Homeward Bound Just A Bad Day Insurance Exam A Call For Help _________________________________________ -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /