Alphia Corporation Ch. 17

Sam and Carrie arrived at the coliseum, parked in the suite holders parking area and took the elevator up to the club level where Alphia had its corporate box. Carrie had made her husband change from his work clothing into jeans and an expensive t-shit that fit him very well. Carrie loved how his arms and shoulders looked.

There was a slight 'V' to the neck, and she so loved snuggling in there as he put his strong arms around him. His slight scent was intimate and hers ... and those moments were special.

"Oh honey.....this is sooooo nice. Nothing like a few years ago when we were in the very back," said Carrie.

"This is way cool Carrie. It was so great for Steve to do this, and we get to meet Dante Washington himself!"

Carrie smiled at her husband's enthusiasm and gave him a quiet look when he was watching the game, looking for a sign that her darling Sam recognized what 'meeting' Dante Washington really meant.

She shook her head at her husband, lost in the fun of the game, completely oblivious to the real reason Mr. Borges had invited them. She snuggled up to his arm and accepted a glass of white wine from the waitress in the box.

She peered down at the figures on the court. At her request, Sam pointed Dante Washington out to her. She watched him play a bit, interested in his movements on the court, his handsome face and then nodded in appreciation. She spent the next half hour looking through her phone, answering old emails and reading a book she had started the other day.

Sam recognized a few of the faces there tonight ... some people from Sales and Marketing and after a quick look around the room he realized that he was the only executive there tonight, junior or senior, so it looked like The Arrangement would not be an issue.

Though none of the other executives had really been pushy about their extra benefits, it would be nice to just be a couple for one night, Sam thought.

When the halftime buzzer sounded a while later, Carrie's phone rang. She saw it was Emily and stood up to take the call in a corner of the large room. A little privacy was probably best for this call.

"Hi sweetie," Emily said immediately as Carrie picked up the call, "we are on our way to the box. I was expecting the call. Mr. Borges told me last year that I was reserved for Dante whenever he is town."

"Oh, God, really?" Carrie breathed. "You little slut! That's so hot!"

The wicked snicker on the other end of the line was all Emily.

"I told Steve, and he got that anxious look on his face and helped me get ready," Emily said. "Makes me so wet. I am a very, very bad wife."

This time it was Carrie's turn to snicker.

The two beautiful women talked quietly. Carrie could hear Steve Smith in the background, greeting the toll attendant to the VIP parking area and then guiding Emily out of the car and through the tunnels into the stadium.

"What are you wearing?" Emily asked.

"I am ... I am dressed somewhat casually," Carrie said, embarrassed. "I was told not to tell Sam so I did not, you know ... get ready for that."

She felt herself blushing.

"Oh, I got you girl," Emily said. "Dante requires his sluts to be in LBD, and I have what you need."

"Oh God," Carrie said at Emily's casual description of her as a slut. "That is just so wicked."

Emily giggled. "And hot! We will be there in a few minutes!"

Carrie could hear Steve say something about needing to get moving, and Emily objecting to being rushed and then Emily ended the call. Carrie smiled at the casual marital light bickering that came out under stress of The Arrangement.

Carrie looked back at her husband, cheering Dante on as he went on a breakaway that ended up with a powerful dunk. "I wonder if Sam is going to be cheering Dante on later this evening," Carrie wondered to herself.

She collected another glass of wine from the always attentive waitress and returned to her husband's side, her panties now definitely a bit moist.

She snuck one arm inside her husband's and held his hand. It felt nice to reconnect with such quiet intimacy, because Carrie knew that there would be precious little of that later in the evening.

-----

Carrie told Sam that Emily and Steve Smith were on their way up. He nodded at the news, but his attention was on the game.

He was distracted by his phone ringing. He was going to

ignore it, but he saw that it was Borges calling.

"Sam, I hope you're enjoying the game tonight."

"Yes, Mr. Borges, it's great so far."

"Good, good. You deserve it. But hey Sam, I'm having a drink with Dante across the street right after the game, and I told him I had some friends that were fans that would like to meet him. You know the lounge at the Ritz Carlton, right?"

"Yes. Wow!"

"Very good. Dante said about 45 minutes after the game, so we'll meet you guys there."

"Looking forward to it. Thanks again, Mr. Borges."

"My pleasure buddy, my pleasure." Sam could hear the amusement in Mr. Borges' voice, but he shrugged it off and returned his attention to the basketball game.

Carrie leaned over and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek and snuggled in a little tighter. Sam put his arm around his wife and gave her beautiful blonde head a kiss.

A few minutes later he was on his feet, cheering as Donte blocked a layup and fired a pass all the way downcourt for a breakaway dunk.

It was a tight game, but that put the Lakers up by 6 with 10 minutes to go.

Sam felt Carrie shrug away and stand up. He looked up to see that Emily and Steve Smith had arrived.

The box was a small area, with three rows of seats facing the glass that looked out onto the Court. There was a walkway between the seats, which were for maybe 12 people total, and up the short steps was a full bar, with a bar tender. Behind the bar was a small kitchen from which the chef operated, producing amazing quick snacks.

Sam glanced up as Steve Smith approached. He accepted the proffered beer with thanks and Steve sat next to him.

Sam watched his Carrie lean in to offer her cheek for a kiss from Emily. Steve saw his friend's eyes go to the wives.

"Carrie looking hot tonight," Steve said. "As always."

"Thanks!" Sam agreed, wholeheartedly. His glance took in Emily.

"But dude, Emily looks amazing!"

Steve smiled and nodded, taking another swig from his beer. Sam had temporarily forgotten the game and was looking at the two women.

Carrie was in her evening blouse and skirt and looked elegant and lovely. Emily was in a slinky little black dress that hugged her curves. It went almost up to her neck but was tight enough that it was impossible for there to be anything between her body and that dress but Sam's dreams.

Combined with her lean and feminine arms that rose in a hug around Carrie and her stiletto black heels, Emily Smith was a sight. As she stood up to hug the taller Carrie, Sam could see that her black thigh highs ended in garters disappearing up her thighs.

Steve's wife was dressed to fuck.

"Jesus," Sam said quietly in a reverent tone, looking at Steve. Steve grinned and winked and offered his beer bottle as a toast.

"Thank you," Steve accepted Sam's praise of Emily's beauty. "Your wife is exceedingly attractive too, Sam."

"Hell yeah," Sam said, clinking the neck of his beer against Steve's.

Sam turned back to the action as Dante was inbounding a ball from the sideline. "Have you been watching the game, man? This guy is just incredible. Seeing him live is so different than watching on TV."

"Haven't really been watching the game," Steve said. "Just the score."

Sam, distracted by the game, did not say anything for a moment until after Dante drained a 25' 3 pointer. "Oh my God, what a shot."

He took a drink from his beer as his friend's comment clicked in his brain. "What do you mean?"

"You're rooting for the wrong team, my man," Steve said, with look of sympathy and warning.

Sam frowned, confused. "You a Knicks fan?"

"No, I don't care. Just tonight, you and me we need Dante to lose."

Steve saw Sam working through the puzzle. He took a swig from his beer and then glanced back up to the women. Emily was chatting to Carrie who had a shocked look on her face. Then she clasped a hand to her mouth and laughed, wide-eyed in excitement.

"Fuck." Sam said, as realization dawned. Or partly, anyway.

Steve nodded.

"Motherfucking Borges set me up, didn't he?" Sam demanded, angry.

"Yup," Steve confessed. "I'm not supposed to be telling you this, so don't throw me under the bus -- so to speak -- but I did not want you going into tonight unprepared."

Sam looked back at the game, no longer invested in the glory and beauty of the game played at the world class level. "So long as Dante wins then, right?"

He could see out of the corner of his eye his friend nod. Steve kept his eyes on Sam, willing to answer questions but not interested in offering more information until more was sought.

He could see his friend's interest in the game change, and he felt sorry for the loss of the innocence. A bit, anyway. Another part of him, growing as the two men talked, was becoming aroused at the thought of he and Sam being required to be part of the upcoming fun.

A frustrating, terrifying and humiliating part ... but a part nonetheless. As difficult as it was to serve dominant men with Emily, it did make them closer in a strange way. And the thought of helping Mr. Borges train Sam was intoxicating, in confusing and wonderful ways.

"And if Dante loses?" Sam asked, finally. His jaw was set and he was staring down at the court, lost in thought and worry.

"Then Borges collects $50,000 from Dante," Steve Smith answered, becoming aroused even more as Sam circled around the real issue.

Down below the game was continuing, but to Sam's eye the ball was no longer a bouncing, happy thing but had become dangerous ... and treacherous. Every time the Lakers scored it felt like a punch in his gut.

He knew that Steve was waiting for the question, and he knew that Steve was going to answer him and answer him honestly but Sam dreaded the moment. Not knowing, not for sure, was a safe space in his mind even though he knew that his control over what was going to happen this evening was absolutely nil. Still, knowing what was coming up made it seem more ... real.

Steve Smith, for his part, was willing to wait. He knew that pushing now was not going to be what Borges wanted. Sam needed to find a way to relax, and to surrender. The forcing of things was going to happen later but getting there ... recalling his own training he knew it was better that Sam find a way to get there on his own.

"That's it?" Sam asked, finally.

"If Dante loses? No," Steve answered. "He will fuck both our wives silly, too. Of course."

Sam looked over at his friend in surprise, and then his mouth opened. "Jesus."

Steve nodded in commiseration as understanding washed over Sam.

"What happens if Dante ... wins?" Sam asked in a whisper. His face was pale and his knuckles white as they gripped his beer in anxious strength.

Steve gave his fellow subordinate junior executive his full attention. "Sam, if Dante and the Lakers win ... the whole team has a suite set aside. It is going to be all four of us, and the team. No limits."

"Oh. My. God." Sam breathed.

"Exactly," Steve agreed.

"I think I need to go talk to my wife," Sam said, standing up abruptly.

Steve caught his arm as Sam walked past to get to the aisle and the short stairs up to where the ladies were talking. "Just remember, Sam, to Borges, Dante and anyone else but us four ... you know nothing."

His eyes were serious. "This is really important. Things could get ... complicated ... for me if Borges finds out I told you."

Sam nodded. "I got you. Don't worry." And he brushed past his friend to collect his wife.

Steve watched Sam hurry up the short set of stairs towards the two women. He could see as Emily noticed Sam. She said something to Carrie, who turned fully towards her approaching husband.

Steve caught his wife's eye. Emily gave him a questioning look and he nodded once, blushing despite himself. Emily's face immediately brightened as an excited grin crossed her pretty face.

Steve shook his head and turned back to the game, confident that his wife now had things well in hand.

Sam bounded up the short flight of stairs. Carrie and Emily had been thick as thieves, pretty heads together whispering excitedly -- but quietly -- but Carrie turned to face her husband as he approached, his energy interrupting the moment as much as his presence.

Carrie gave a soft gasp at Sam's face, but Sam was drawn to her expression of excitement ... tinged with shame.

He took her by her arm, her glass of white wine safe in her other hand. He drew her a few steps from Emily.

"You knew?" He rasped the question, the hoarseness of his voice surprising him.

Emily gave Sam a smile and sipped her wine, her beautiful green eyes peering over the top of the wineglass. Her eyes were bright and she exuded an excited energy. Sam realized that Emily's excitement was in large part at his expense.

Her gaze slid over past Sam to her husband, sitting a dozen feet away and her smile brightened to a giddy grin.

Surprised, Sam glanced back at Steve, who was turned and watching. Sam gave him a 'what the fuck?' look and Steve shrugged, blushing slightly. "It is what it is, man," Steve said. He nodded at the scoreboard, and Dante had the Lakers up by 15 now.

Sam winced and dragged his eyes back to the women. There was real hunger in Emily's pretty eyes now.

Sam pulled Carrie aside a foot or two for some privacy, but Emily drifted along. Sam tried to ignore her.

Carrie looked at her husband, stricken at his struggles but also excited. Sam felt aroused ... and betrayed.

By both women.

"How could you not tell me?" Sam demanded of Carrie.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," Carrie said, reaching up to his face. "They told me I couldn't ...".

"What?" Sam interjected. "Who told you?"

"Mr. Borges ... I mean his secretary ...". Her beautiful blue eyes filled, and Sam felt himself crumble inside as he always did when his wife became upset.

"We all have our roles to play, Sam," Emily said, stepping in, "Dante ...".

"Could you give us some privacy, please?" Sam said, sharply.

Emily shook her head and moved closer to stand shoulder to shoulder with Carrie. She softened the dynamic by putting one female hand on Sam's arm. "There is going to be absolute zero privacy tonight."

There was a roar of the crowd as Dante drained a 26' 3 pointer. In the video screen in front of him, on the back wall of the box Sam could see Dante raising his arms in triumph and chest bumping his center. It was becoming a rout.

"Sam ...," Emily said again, firmly but with a gentleness, "We all have our roles to play in The Arrangement. The men do, you and Steve do," she said, motioning with a nod of her pretty head towards her husband now approaching the little group, "and we ladies do."

Carrie gave her friend a sharp glance, and Sam looked confused. "The men? I'm a man," he protested.

"The real men," Steve said as he joined the group.

"What?" Sam said, surprised.

"Look, I know you told a few guys that you fucked Emily," Steve Smith said, waving away Sam's apology reaction, "No, it's fine. It's just that, you didn't. You and my wife made love, or maybe had sex ... she really enjoyed it so thank you, but you didn't fuck her."

"No, not at all," Emily agreed, her delightfully red hair moving as she shook her pretty head.

Sam looked hurt. "But you said ... you enjoyed yourself."

Carrie snuck an arm inside her husband's and cuddled herself to him. She enjoyed his strength, but he was struggling and needed some support.

"I can see why Emily loves this though, so much," she thought to herself, feeling somewhat guilty for it. Her husband's anxiety, and Steve Smith's resignation, were both tinged by an arousal that neither knew how to address.

It was exciting; illicit and dangerous.

"Oh, I did, very much," Emily said with a happy little laugh. "You were delightful, but tonight we are all going to be with international level athletes who are dominant and very demanding."

Sam felt his wife wriggle almost imperceptibly on his arm.

He looked down at her and gave her a smile. "That's hot," he murmured to the group. He blushed as a question bloomed in his mind.

"Do ...," he cleared his throat, "... do you think that I will be allowed to watch?"

There was a momentary silence, broken by Emily's astonished laugh.

"Yes, Sam. You will definitely be there and watching." She laughed again, shaking her head at his confusion.

"Sam, it is very hot," Steve said, "but I don't think you understand. We -- all four of us -- are going to be fucked and used. The girls will love it, and you and I are up for a long, rough night."

"What ...?" Sam exclaimed.

"Sam, you ... we all have our roles to play," Steve explained patiently, but with an anguished look in his eye.

Sam stared at his colleague for a moment that grew. The game faded into the background as Sam looked at Steve, and then at the two beautiful women, and back at Steve. He moved his mouth once, but no words came out.

"Let's talk, just us," Steve said gently, seeing in Sam's face the warring emotions and anxieties he had experienced the first time he had been prepared for a party.

He took Sam by the elbow and steered him away from the ladies, a few steps away into a corner away from the game. The ladies were only a few feet away but there was privacy enough for a quiet conversation.

"Hey," Steve said quietly, to try to get Sam to focus.

Sam looked up, and then down. His eyes were searching for a safe place to land.

"Hey," Steve said again, gently. He put a hand on Sam's arm. "You with me?"

Sam gulped and looked at his colleague for the first time.

"Y ...," he cleared his throat. "Yeah. I'm here."

"OK, good. There is one thing you need to know, and this is important," Steve said, taking advantage of Sam's attention knowing that it might get distracted if the conversation went sideways.

"What?" Sam asked, a bit too abruptly.

"This is voluntary," Steve said seriously. "This evening ... it's voluntary. You don't have to do it."

"Yeah?" Sam said, straightening a little as he felt the energy flowing back into him.

"Yes, it is voluntary. It has to be an active choice to ... surrender."

Steve waited a moment for that word to penetrate Sam's brain.

Sam frowned. "Surrender? What do you mean?"

"I mean," Steve replied, "that this is an opportunity to explore yourself. With permission from your wife, your colleagues ... and with permission from the men who will be there."

Sam stared at Steve, his expression partially incredulous that any man would ever actually surrender like that, but there was another part to his expression, too. Steve knew that part well.

"There is no judgment here, Sam," Steve said. "None."

"Oh my god," Sam breathed, the tension flowing back into his body, but different this time.

"Exactly," Steve said softly as he smiled.

After a moment Sam smiled back, briefly.

"Tomorrow, Sam, if you do explore this with your wife -- with OUR wives -- you are going to walk down the street the same man as you are today. But you are going to know more about yourself."

Sam nodded. "I can see that," he said, considering Steve's words.

Sam frowned briefly and then looked directly at Steve. "Are you going to do it?"

Steve arched an eyebrow at his colleague. "You mean join my wife and surrender to the real men?"

Sam nodded, his eyes bright.

"Absolutely. How many people in life get to explore who they are sexually without fear or shame, Sam?"

Steve waited a moment for his friend to absorb this information. Sam looked like he had been poleaxed.