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Better to read the first one first, some translations are not done to help see it from Tara’s POV.
Helen was a wonder. She took the dazed young wife into Mr Callaghan’s private wash room and helped her clean up and rehydrate. As the y naked blond recovered from three back to back body shaking orgasms she slowly began to recall how helping Kang Dae de stress had led her to have with all three of the Korean delegation.
On Mr Callaghan’s desk no less. Naked. Watched by several people including her husband Marc and Mr Callaghan, although the poor girl was unaware of the viewing as it was through a one way mirror. It was the first time anyone, especially Tara, new she could have body shakers.
Marc and Mr C tied down the Koreans on paper soon after and Marc would take the lead on that. Helen reintroduced Tara once the Koreans had gone. No one wanted to scare her into a corner.
“Oh you wonderful lady, you clever, faithful and willing beauty. You just won us a brilliant deal. Very well done my dear!” Mr Callaghan said welcoming her back into the reception hall.
“That’s my brilliant Tara. God you make me so proud.” her husband told her as he hugged her tightly and kissed her neck.
“Told you sweeting, they love you. You’re fantastic.” Helen confirmed.
Tara blushed at the praise and felt relief that she was not in trouble for going beyond her brief or doing so on the big man’s desk. Within thirty minutes she was convinced she’d guided the whole affair.
Drinks were consumed while more mingling took place until eventually the whole thing wore down and everyone went home but the staff. Marc kept Tara on a high for days with positive Verbal reinforcement.
at home was excellent for a while before Tara began to miss the way she’d felt at the big event.
Marc was due to visit Korea but only to work with Sung Hoon, the others from the event would not be there. Tara would be left to hang with other company wives for the first time without Marc to go home to. This should be fine though because Helen would be around too.
“Hello sweeting, how are you? You look smashing.”
“Hello Helen, thank you. I love that dress, is it new?” The conversation began, and pretty much continued for a while.
Eventually someone at the little evening drinks gathering mentioned how Tara was suddenly so well thought of, again, and that gave Helen her opening.
Coming over all conspiratorial Helen came out with,
“Ooo, yes, that reminds me sweeting, are you busy tomorrow night? Mr Callaghan was wondering if you would like some company with your lovely Marc away. There will be some business of course, (Tara nodded sagely, sort of) but he promises there will be time to socialise. Only, he needs someone reliable as I shan’t be there, my husband and I have thing with the kids, so he thought of you!”
This hit the right buttons for Tara, who was so happy to be in the mix again she jumped right in before she even knew what was needed of her. Of course all it really meant was to be eye candy and do lots of flirting, but Helen explained it with lots of, ‘supporting, faithful and helpful’ talk which Tara lapped up.
Helen said she would pop round to help with what to wear for these things, and give a few hostessing tips. Tara just couldn’t wait. She was filling in for Helen. What a great responsibility for the, still, new girl.
“You do look good in white sweeting, let me see you in this one, then this one, keep the shoes.” Helen put her phone down set on record while Tara removed her simple button down summer frock to try an off white, lacy strapless, (and braless) mid thigh number with simple white heals, then to a white, short backless dress with shoulder straps that had a sort of medallion part way up the front of each strap.
With the second dress being modelled Helen said,
“Very nice, oh yes. VPL though, just slip them off a sec sweeting. Yes that’s better.” Helen was straight but knew Mr Callaghan’s tastes.
“Much better, ooo, try that light green one, the shiny one.”
Helen had Tara in and out of a number of outfits in ten minutes, and kept her without underwear from the VPL lie, just flipping from dress to dress and getting some great footage for Mr C. She had settled on what she called the medallion dress immediately. Trying the rest was just for the camera and Tara was happy as it was just Helen there and had no idea she was on camera.
Helen began putting stuff away as she said to Tara,
“Maybe you ought to open the window and hang tonight’s dress near it to air, let it breath a bit sweeting.”
That seemed a good idea so Tara opened the uncurtained window,
took the dress from Helen and as she hung it up beside the now open window gave two builders next door the best twenty seconds of the week, while Helen moved to one side where the camera caught a semi frontal view with the builders beyond.
Helen waited for Tara to replace her summer frock and then let her walk her to the front door and down to her car. The builders took another good look, trying to imagine the frock absent.
Marc zoomed Tara just after dinner and saw her dressed up.
“Going out my angel?” Like he didn’t know and had not seen the fashion show.
Tara explained the plan for the evening and her loving husband told his loving wife that he was so proud she was helping Mr Callaghan once more. Not having a wife of his own he could be a bit lost when he had company, it was so nice of Tara to lend him her support.
Tara had a warm glow when the call was over. She liked helping and being needed. The car should arrive any minute now.
The car was low and any person in the right place would see how sparse her blond bush really is. Say, the driver for instance. Sometimes he loved his job.
Tara felt honoured that Mr Callaghan himself came out to open the car door for her. The driver was well aware of whom it was that paid his wages and valued the nod from Mr C.
Tara practically leapt into the big hug she was offered and gleefully returned the cheek kissing during the verbal greetings, elsewhere known as ‘buttering up’. The feel of left hand resting on her right bum cheek meant to her that she was still receiving the big man’s affections.
Dressed in loose mid blue trousers and white shirt Mr C looked in good shape for a non exercising fifty five year old. The only down side for Tara was that with just two buttons undone it was obvious Mr Callaghan was very hairy. He reminded Tara of one of those sheep pigs she liked. Or Mangalica to everyone else.
Tara had felt the hairy chest from the hug, it was rough like a scourer and like his head had three shades of grey. Forty seven less than in one of her favourite books. Although she wasn’t keen on it the hairy chest somehow suited the authoritative Mr Callaghan.
Once the initial groping and greeting was done Tara was given a tour of the house so she knew where things were that she may need to know later. Why this included bedrooms was unclear but then, well, maybe later she would need to know. Following the girl up stairs made for a nice view, even if one was too much the gent to bend down for the full effect.
Mr C suggested that if there was nothing she might require from it later, Tara could leave her silver clutch bag in the draw beside his bed where it would be safe. She thought that was a kind and excellent idea and did so, and had permission to retrieve it whenever she liked, even if someone was in there. Entering Mr Callaghan’s bedroom was her right as hostess, he told her.
‘He’s just so thoughtful’ Tara decided.
Tom was a smart older man assigned to the bar built into the corner of the larger lounge, and Gordon was a younger chap whose duties included fetching drinks and offering round finger food. Both new who was in charge, even if it looked like it was Tara.
Tara greeted the guests just inside the entrance with cheek kissing for men and the very few women, allowed a feel here and there so as to keep Mr C’s guests happy, and made sure they knew where the bar was. No one seemed to mind her not knowing they knew the house better than she did.
Around thirty people in all, it was a fine gathering and much was done to further good business relations. Once everyone had arrived Tara was mostly on Mr Callaghan’s arm or seated next to him, but was keenly aware that the gathering was going well due to her presence, although not in quite the way she thought. Still she got so many compliments she beamed.
It’s a little known thing that a good hostess should always have a drink in her hand if the guests are to be encouraged likewise. It seems that at least one hostess hadn’t been briefed not to keep drinking them as if she were a guest herself. Good job Tom knew his stuff and listened to Mr C’s instructions.
Many guests were interested when Tara stood, sat or crossed her long legs. Mr Callaghan liked to sit her on a bar stool when he chatted sometimes, the view from above was nice too.
Eventually, after a few people had left, Tara’s hosting job was mainly done. Unless something cropped up, she could relax. The boss man had deposited her between two friends from Germany who felt, she was told, a little left out, sad almost, due to language difficulties. Some people found it hard when the pair had to search for the right word or phrase and exchanged a few comments in German.
Mr Callaghan knew Tara was just the helpful and supportive girl he needed to keep them happy while he got a deal signed elsewhere. Just be with them a while. Like Helen would. Like Helen would! Be like Helen. She could do this, look how she pleased Kang Dae after all. She would do this.
” Guten abend, or, Good evening, Meine liebe.” Bernhard greeted Tara, not translating the ‘my love’. “May I introduce Robert, my colleague from Elmt.” he continued, indicating the other man.
They had both stood up to greet Tara as Mr C introduced the young wife, and after the cheek kissing, which lingered slightly, they sat with Tara between the on the sofa. This would make it difficult to concentrate on them both at once but Tara was just happy to be helping.
As Mr Callaghan moved away Tara mused on how this sofa faced out over the picturesque garden so their backs were to the main group.
Robert began explaining the business they were there for and where they were from. As he kept her attention Bernhard softly lay his right hand on Tara’s left thigh. He let Bernhard talk until he was as high as he dare.
Tara felt the hand on her leg but not intrusively, it was soft and friendly and she didn’t want to be rude to Robert by turning away to deal with it.
When Robert finished explaining about the business being in Elmt near the Dutch border, Bernhard jumped in asking how Tara came to work for Mr Callaghan’s firm?
Tara turned toward Bernhard and lifting her left hand to place it on top of the one on her thigh. However Bernhard, in gentlemanly fashion caught it in his left and held it in a kind of fatherly way, halting her intentions.
“I cannot believe he has not signed you up, how do you do this if you do not work for him?” Bernhard asked on hearing Tara’s explanation of being a helpful and reliable wife.
“We must speak to him about this ungerechtigkeit, this, this injustice!” Exclaimed Robert, placing a concerned hand high on the girl’s right thigh, not realising, obviously, how high the dress had now ridden. Tara turned quickly back to Robert to explain more clearly but Bernhard jumped in and spoke quickly in German. Tara turned back to him as he began to speak. She was messing up and the thought and began to worry her.
“Oh, oh yes, I see. I am sorry Tara, Bernhard has just explained to me how you said it, I am sorry. I misunderstood. All this talking English I get behind sometimes. You are such a good girl for Herr Callaghan, so kind and helpful. Forgive me, I am so stressed. So stressed I need a Tara for myself.” he finished.
Patting Tara’s thigh in confirmation of his words, he somehow finished with his hand just bellow the hem of the dress.
The dress had risen so high that if anyone had been standing in front of them they would have seen beaver. The hand was very close too. Tara covered it with her right hand to keep it still.
For the German team it was probably good they couldn’t see the reflection on the window. Or at least that Tara couldn’t. Mind you, with the lights having been slowly lowered during the evening, anyone stood up few yards behind the sofa could see the reflection well. The beaver clearly.
Gordon casually arrived with some tall drinks on a tray and so finally Tara had to free her right hand to take hers. The two men each had one available to use.
Bernhard told his friend not to worry, he was not the only one stressed out, Bernhard himself was too. And yes he needed a supportive friend like Tara as well.
“Well you have the original as a friend, and I will support you both as best I can.” The top hostess stated.
“Hast du etwas deutch in der Tara?” asked Robert.
“Sorry Robert, what was that?” the young blond asked.
She turned again as Bernhard piped up,
“My stressed friend asks if you have any German in you?”
Fearing she had made things more stressful Tara said she hadn’t.
“Mochtest du welche?” Robert asked.
Panicking Tara quickly replied, “Oh yes.” She thought he’d said ‘How about Welsh’ which she had from her Grand father.
“Ach, meine lust.” Which must have meant ‘how lovely’, mustn’t it?
Bernhard knocked back his drink and held the glass for the attentive Gordon to collect. As Gordon arrived Bernhard reached out to place the glass on the tray with his left hand, accidentally counter balancing by pushing his right hand back causing it to rest against the moist lips of Tara’s pussy. Gordon took Tara’s from her as Robert did just the same as his friend had.
As Gordon moved off Bernhard rubbed downward on his fly three times with his left hand saying he was still stressed. He then reached inside his grey trousers and mumbled something about cramped and relief.
Robert removed his hand from Tara and stretched his arms up and his legs forward, groaning. Bernhard took his hand from Tara’s warm crotch to rub on the outside of his trousers.
Concerned once more for Mr Callaghan’s guests in her charge, Tara acted kind of reflexively reached down to his crotch saying,
“You need to de stress, here, let me!” With that she undid both trousers and fly to find the expected shorts already pushed down and felt Bernhard use his right hand to guide her face to his hard on which he steadied with his left.
Shifting her bottom to her right to allow for a more comfortable position caused her left breast to fall over the top of her dress. The least a gentleman could do was to swap his left hand onto the back of her head, and use the right hand to support the mammary in it’s own moment of need, gently caressing the nipple to reassure it.
Mr Callaghan could clearly see from his high bar stool what was happening in the reflection. He turned to the three other remaining male guests, plus Tom and Gordon, and pointed out,
“Good girl that. So helpful and supportive.”
The approval was unanimous.
As Tara’s head was pumped gently up and down by a strong German hand, another guided her right hand to a similarly stressed member on her right. The guiding hand helped find the rhythm at which the member needed stroking.
Without being led to do so, the lovely young hostess began frequent deep throating to alleviate the stress further. Now she had the rhythm for her right hand it was left to carry on. Robert now sat back and wormed his left hand gently under that soft bubble butt or Knackarsch, and soon got two fingers into a nice warm hole with some kind of button at the edge. Pushing back and fro he happily passed the time thus.
Bernhard let out the occasional soft moan like a man de stressing. Tara knew she was helping. She was also rather distracted by Robert and wondered if she was currently doing enough for him. Was that why his hand had accidentally become lodged under her?
Maybe she could slide onto the floor and kneel in front of them and alternate between them. She had a little trouble slipping off of the fingers, both mentally and physically, but once she was able to slip off the sofa Robert confused her by slipping off too. It seems he was just helping Tara to position herself, and having done such a helpful thing for her he then swiftly poked his own stressed rod into where his fingers had recently vacated.
Bernhard perfectly timed the next deep throat push on the girls head with Robert’s thrust into her pussy. The, nod, nod, nod, NOD went unseen by Tara. She let out a loud “Ugh” as she was filled.
Mr Callaghan turned on his stool to Eric Strong of Strong and Webster underwear and asked,
“Something like that do you mean?”
“Oh yes, look, I have the paperwork here, shall we sign that up now and I can leave you to arrange tomorrow night your way. Yes?”
“Certainly, so it was £35,000 with an option for two more orders the same wasn’t it Eric?”
Back at the sofa Robert was beginning to speed up while his friend was close to unloading. Bernhard had a hand either side of Tara’s head and was about to shoot any second, Tara was thinking he would any time now.
Robert had been pre warned by Mr C and on seeing his friend grimace slowed his thrusting right down. They wanted Bernhard to keep his cock. Bernhard let fly right into Tara’s throat while holding her head down. It took five spurts to empty his sac and he held her there until Robert began slamming hard. He then pulled the blond Rottweiler off and backed away into the sofa.
Robert went for it full on, never mind the girl’s pleasure, only his counted now. Tara was pushed into the space just vacated by Bernhard’s rear end and lost focus as her loins lit up with power. She began to vibrate just like with Kang Dae on Mr Callaghan’s desk.
The shaking orgasm set Robert off and he had a tough time keeping his cock in the blond while he shot his own streams of cum into her. They both vocalised but he managed to control himself while Tara was muffled by the sofa. Her body shook for more than thirty seconds before she slid semi conscious, to the floor with both gorgeous breasts completely out of the dress.
The Go pro Gordon had stuck under a nearby coffee table had caught it all beautifully.
A little woozy, Tara was helped up by Tom and Gordon who placed her on the sofa. Tom leaned in and with a polite “Ahem, May I?” he reached toward her breasts and before she could in any way stop him, the barman grasped the top of the dress, gave a light tug, and the breasts were once again inside the dress.
Embarrassed, the young wife blushed and said “OH! Um, thank you Tom very kind of you. Thank you.” Not knowing what else to do she gave him a light kiss in the cheek before he withdrew.
“Mr Callaghan’s just seeing out the last guest, he’s well chuffed, I mean, very impressed with your performance tonight, very impressed he said.” Tom told her as Gordon passed her a Martini, Shaken, of course. She beamed as cum soaked into her dress.
Mr Callaghan scooped the dazed and drunken young wife into his big hug and praised her to the heavens and back. He was working as per the Trophy wife protocol he’d planted into the firm’s way of behaving;
A trophy wife, it was taught, was Faithful to hubby first and the company second. Was intelligent, reliable and always willing to help and support the corporate team.
It was also mentioned that a wife who did not meet the criteria could ruin their husband and his career, after all, didn’t Wanda Davies upset Mr Callaghan and get Philip Davies fired. But we don’t talk about that. Do we!
This protocol was usually brought to new company wives by Helen, wife of a VP and unofficial Mother hen at the frequent wives coffees or evening drinks.
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