The picnic broke up around four and then the Elite upper-level managers from around the world, who had been present and mingling with the Workers as part of the festivities of the day, were transported by limousines to Molly’s palatial home for drinks, conversation, a meal together, and… entertainment.
Since the evening was to be much less casual than the picnic had been, time was set aside for everyone to clean up and properly dress for the formal dinner. The seven to eight-thirty social hour allowed time for some of the Elite managers to rest for a short while, or more likely, use their portable devices to catch up on any urgent matters at their plants or offices.
Dinner began precisely at eight forty-five and took precisely ninety minutes for all courses. Afterwards, when everyone was sitting around the table sipping after-dinner liqueurs, Reginald Luxly, CEO of Apex Industries addressed the gathering. He, too, spoke of meeting goals and productivity and even longevity with Apex, but no certificates or cash envelopes were handed out. The rewards for the Elites would be in the form of stock bonuses or company-provided trips to exotic destinations, but who received what was never openly discussed. In a less-than-unexpected surprise, he did hint broadly that when he retired next year, Senior Supervising Manager William Martin would be stepping into his position.
Not openly discussed was the true nature of the entertainment which would become available at exactly eleven pm when the band began playing and the party moved to the large tent erected in the spacious backyard of the Fairchild mansion. A few of the Elites slipped away early while people were still standing around talking after dinner. Various excuses were given, but the true reason was that they– or their spouse– wasn’t comfortable with the entertainment provided. One of the realities of the Elite Network was that just because something wasn’t spoken of openly, that didn’t mean that everyone didn’t already know. Not staying for the entertainment wasn’t held against the Elites who left early… as long as they kept silent and spoke to no one– especially the press– about the true nature of Apex’s yearly “World Conference, Dinner Party, and Dance.”
The entertainment arrived precisely at ten fifty-five in three long black limousines and a luxury SUV. The limos had been rented for the evening, but the SUV was the personal vehicle of Miss Donna Reynolds. Like the vehicles of many high-ranking Elites, it was discreetly armored and the driver and front seat passenger were both armed bodyguards. There were no large, obvious signs on the vehicle, but if you looked closely at the front doors, next to the recessed handles was a small, black, rectangular plaque. It was the logo of the manufacturer before the car was specially modified. Now it held a small golden heart with the letters, “RPA” elaborately intertwined within it. Alongside the heart it proclaimed quietly in small gold letters, “Reynolds Pleasure Associates.” In even smaller letters beneath that it said, “A Division of Apex Industries.”
Donna had made the suggestion seven years ago to William Martin at one of their weekly “meetings,” that she could manage an escort service much better than her current boss. She also suggested that it could be one of the many diverse companies which composed Apex Industries. He backed her partly because he thought it was a good idea… and partly because she promised that he would always be a complimentary account with no charge for personal services. The success of Reynolds Pleasure Associates made Donna rich beyond even her dreams, and helped make Bill Martin Senior Supervising Manager.
The arrival of the entertainers nearly doubled the size of the party. There were a few among the guests who would entertain each other, but most would avail themselves of the entertainment as they slipped away into one of the many private tents located further back in the more dim areas of the back yard. Donna Reynolds and William Martin, however, believed in leading by example. After the bevy of entertainers had mingled with the crowd and were getting acquainted by dancing with or talking with the high level Elites, she walked onto the stage next to the band and stood facing the wall of the tent.
She was wearing a black, spangled dress that molded to her body like a second skin. The sequins and small diamonds sewn throughout the dress flashed like small suns as she undulated with the beat of the music. William stepped up on stage behind her and stroked her shoulders for a moment before slowly pulling down the zipper which went all the way down to below the round of her ass.
After the dress gaped open revealing her perfect body, he gripped the top of the dress on both shoulders and pulled upward slightly. There was a series of soft pops as the snaps which held the shoulders together released. William held the two pieces of fabric in his hand for a moment, enjoying the sight of her body writhing within the partially-open black cocoon. Then he opened his hands and quickly moved his arms outward with his fingers held up and separated. There was a hushed gasp from the crowd as the dress immediately dropped to the floor and puddled at her feet. Her dropping dress trick still worked its magic.
Donna stepped out of her stiletto heels– and the dress– and turned to kneel naked in front of William. He was still facing away from the crowd, but there was no doubt what she was doing. It was now her turn to slowly lower a zipper.
Normally, his manhood would spring out through the zipper, but his tightly-tailored formal wear had his partially erect prick trapped. Donna murmured, “He’s being a bad boy today, isn’t he,” as she carefully reached through the zipper and pulled his rapidly engorging prick clear.
She began by flicking her tongue against the tip of his glans. That had been her starting technique with William for ten years now, and it always had the desired effect. He was immediately stiff enough to push through an iron wall. Satisfied with the effect, Donna pulled his prick into her mouth. She knew exactly how long William would last and what would drive him over the edge, but today was about more than sex. It was a performance. It was a demonstration of power. She had to change her style just slightly so that William would last longer than usual. The exact length longer was a carefully-calculated amount. Mister William Martin had to show that he had stamina and duration, but it couldn’t go on so long that it appeared that he couldn’t get the job done. This wasn’t having sex, this was demonstrating power– both for William and for Donna.
At just the right point in time, he spurted into her mouth. There was a smattering of applause from people standing near the back of the tent, but most of the high-level managers just nodded their approval. One leaned in and said sarcastically to his wife, “That’s the way it is supposed to be done.” She replied, “I know. You never last that long.”