I work in the marketing department for a major athletic apparel company. We have an annual event for employees which we skipped last year due to Covid, so this year management wanted to make it special. As part of that, we hired a big name (ex-Victoria’s Secret) model to emcee the employee awards ceremony. Unfortunately, she bailed a few weeks beforehand (health reasons, ie Covid) and the events department was left scrambling to replace her. Me being the big ‘ol pervert that I am (let’s get it out there), I saw an opportunity and I seized it: I suggested for a replacement my favorite IG model—a gorgeous, stunning blonde bombshell—and to my surprise, they went for it.
I’m not in events but I’m in marketing, which is adjacent, so I offered to make contact with her agency to find out her rates. Here’s where it gets a little complicated, but it’s important for the story. I knew how much money had already been budgeted for the VS model, and it being last minute I knew *my* model could ask that amount and they’d pretty much have to give it to her. So, after making contact with her and her agent, I strongly hinted in a separate email (not from my corporate account, natch) what she could *really* ask, which was several times her usual fee. She (and her agent) got the message, and in their “official” reply quoted a number in that range. And of course Events went for it. She and her agent were clearly thrilled. So was I :)
If you’re wondering why I did all that, keep in mind the amounts involved, though quite sizable, are a rounding error in the corporate ledger. And also that she’s super-hot and I got a huge kick out of helping her out.
—–
So two weeks later I’m nervously waiting at the airport arrivals, holding up a sign with her name on it. (Usually this would be an assistant’s job, but I volunteered. My boss raised an eyebrow but allowed it.) Out she walks, the goddess of my fantasies in the flesh,looking surprisingly girl-next-door normal—no makeup, sweatpants and a t-shirt. But no amount of dressing down could conceal her ridiculously hot body, and even in the mundane surroundings of the airport she wa drawing glances and stares. The moment she sees me waving at her, she breaks into a wide, innocent, yet undeniably sexy grin. She’s devastatingly gorgeous. My heart stops as she walks up to me, kisses me on the cheek, and gives me a hug. She’s tall—nearly my height—which I knew but somehow didn’t really expect. I can smell her skin, and she smells amazing. Then she hooks her arm into mine as we stroll towards the car lot. She’s chatting like she’s known me for years. I’m on cloud nine.
We make small talk in the car—we’re both originally from the same state, which gives us something to chat about—and when we arrive at her hotel I help her check in. At the desk we learn she has a private suite with a pool, originally booked for the VS model. Her eyes widen in excitement at that. I don’t want to linger awkwardly, so I tell her we’ll be in touch about the event. She asks where I’m staying, and slightly embarassed, I admit it’s the same hotel. She laughs at that. I think she gets that I’m a little starstruck, and she finds it cute.
“Well I’m glad” she smiles. “I don’t know [the city we’re in] very well, and it’s good to have a friend nearby.
She hugs me goodbye and I float out of the lobby.
——
The big night arrives. I show up backstage as she comes out of makeup looking like movie star. She’s wearing a backless dress with a plunging neckline that hugs her phenomenal body like a glove. The effect is stunning and kind of unreal, like I’m seeing Marilyn Monroe in the flesh. She’s braless, and just a hint of nipple is poking against the sheer fabric. She grins at me, looking a little nervous.
“You okay?” I ask.
“I’ll be fine. I always get butterflies before these things.”
“You look incredible. You’ll do great.”
“Thanks”, she beams. “I hope I’m worth it” she says half-jokingly. It’s then that I realize for all her incredible beauty she’s just a girl in her early-20s with a whole lot of attention on her.
“Hell yes, I’m sure. You’re worth ten times that. I’m just glad I could make it work.”
At that, she suddenly gives gave me a tight hug. I can feel her breasts against my chest, her body against mine, her breath on my neck. Suddenly wild ideas I hadn’t dared entertain before are flashing through my head. My body is, uh, responding, and I’m hoping she doesn’t notice.
“You’re sweet…” she whispers into my ear before pulling back, turning towards the exit and strolling out into the event space like a Hollywood diva.
——
Her pre-show “performance” (meeting and greeting) is a huge hit. She has natural, conversational charm and in combination with her 12/10 face and body everyone she chats with feel like the luckiest person in the planet.
For the awards ceremony itself, she emerges onstage changed into the “designer” version of our female apparel. People actually gasp. Sports bras, gym shorts and sneakers have never looked so outrageously sexy. If there was any flaw in hiring her, it was that nobody could take her eyes off her when the focus is ostensibly the employees and their “awards”.
I catch up with her as the event winds down. She’s glowing, clearly relieved and pleased (as we all are) with how well it had gone. I ask if she was going to the afterparty, at a popular local club.
“You bet. Let me get changed. Wanna give me a lift?” I agree, of course, barely containing my excitement.
——
At the club, with a drink or two under our belt, she pulls me out onto the dance floor. All eyes are on her. She’s in a black leather top which shows off her ample, incredible cleavage, and a matching leather minisskirt. Thankfully I know enough moves from my partying days to not embarrass myself, or her (hopefully). In fact, the attention, from both her and our fellow partiers, is intoxicating. Against all odds I can sense a chemistry with her, and I think everyone else can too. Out of the corner of my eye I’m catching flashes of envy on my coworker’s faces. As my confidence grows, my hand drifts down to her lower back, resting just atop the perfect curve of her ass. She responds by grinding her pelvis against mine. I’m hard as a rock and she must know it. Hell, she’s probably used to it.
She leans in close, her lips to my ear. “Thanks for being so sweet. I mean, Jesus, that was so much money.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s everything to me right now.”
We dance a bit long and she leans in again.”
“Wanna go back to the hotel and check out my private pool?”
My brain freezes up at that. I can’t find words to answer so I just nod. She leads me out of the club…
——
Half an hour later, I’m in a deck lounger, gin-and-tonic from her minibar in my hand. She’s perched at the edge of the pool in a sky-blue-and-white thong bikini, feet dangling in the water, looking back over her shoulder at me. Her ass looks incredible, and her pose makes it almost feel like she’s presenting it to me. We’ve smoked a little of her (“medicinal”, for TSA purposes) weed. I’m ogling her, and she’s giggling at that.
She’s so gorgeous.
“Gee”, I manage. “I wish I’d brought a swimsuit.”
She pauses, then replies. “Swimming is overrated.”
She pulls herself out the pool, her back arching majestically, and crawls like a panther across the pool deck towards me. She makes her way up onto the lounger and climbs up, her tits brushing against my legs, and then my pelvis, and then my chest as she slides up along my body. Then her face is against mine, and she’s kissing me. I return the kiss. We’re making out, and my hands have moved up to her shoulders, than her neck, and then holding her face. She’s straddling me, and her hand has moved down to my waist, rubbing my cock through my pants. I’m hard as steel. I can’t believe it’s happening.
“Mmmm” she murmurs. “You’re a nice size.” Obviously a relief to hear.
I start caressing her breasts through her bikini top. They feel soft, round, incredible.
“You are, too.”
She giggles in my ear. At the same time, she’s unbuckling my belt, and then unzipping my pants. She pulls them down, gently cups my balls through my boxers, and gives them a gentle squeeze. Then she’s tugging my boxers down. My cock springs free.
She lets out a little sigh as she lowers herself onto me. I assume she’s on some kind of birth control but frankly the sensation of her cock enveloping my pussy causes my brain to shut down anyway. Her perfect tits are brushing up against my face as she settles into a rhythm of pumping her hips up and down my cock. I pull the fabric of her bikini panels aside, exposing her nipples, and begin licking and sucking them. She’s moaning, I briefly wonder if anyone else can see us from their rooms before realizing I don’t care. I’m fucking an absolute goddess. This is the best moment of my life.
She’s breathing rapidly into my ear now and it drives me over the top. Maybe it’s the weed, or maybe it’s the realization that I have my dick inside this creature who a week ago was my #1 spank bank material, but I’m going into overdrive. I’m thrusting my cock in and out of her *hard* now, and she’s responding by tightening and releasing her pussy (what muscle control, Jesus) and digging her nails into my back. It’s not long before I’m cumming deep inside her, pumping spurt after spurt of jizz into her. She keeps her face pressed against mine as our breathing gradually returns to normal.
She pulls her head back, and she’s smiling like an angel.
“I needed that”, she murmurs.
Twenty minutes later we’re in her room, fucking again. I’m behind her on the bed, holding onto her hips as her gorgeous ass bounces up and down in front of me. God, it’s an amazing combination of visual and sensation. I want it to last forever, but when she starts climaxing, digging her face into the pillow, I can’t hold back. I cum inside her again. Filling a goddess with my jizz.
Afterwards, we chat a bit. She’s relaxed and giggling. I feel high, I can’t believe what’s happened. She falls asleep, and eventually I do too.
I the morning, we order breakfast in bed. Then she gives me a goodbye blowjob—it’s wet, sloppy and fun. I reciprocate, licking and sucking her pussy until her hips are bucking in my face and her hands gripping my hair.
She’s late for the airport. Skipping the shower, she tosses her things into her bags, tosses on a tight floral one-piece.
Pausing in the mirror, she laughs. “I look like I’ve been fucking, don’t I?”
“You’re gorgeous.” She really is.
She gives me that big, wonderful grin one more time.
“Thanks for all of it.”
And then she blows me a kiss, and bounces out the door.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/qfhz0f/mf_i_37m_convinced_my_company_to_hire_my_favorite