The Company Retreat

Story Info
A story of love and lust in New Hampshire.
6.2k words
4.58
38.1k
18
0
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
riverboy
riverboy
4,570 Followers

All people and places are fictional. All characters are over eighteen.

*****

Shit smell. The worst. A rotting brown outhouse in a deep shade glen. A man stepped out just as a young woman approached.

"Jesus John! What the fuck! Oh my God!" she said, turning her head away from the ungodly odor, her body nearly dry-heaving at the insult.

"Whiskey and hotdogs," he said. "Sorry."

"Are you shittin' me?" she said.

"Good one!" John said as he flip-flopped away across the damp pine needles.

The woman backed up a few steps and stood there, staring into the hellish, stench-filled darkness of the outhouse, wondering why she had agreed to go on the company retreat.

Mary didn't like camping much. She'd never really tried it, truth be told, but the superficial tastes she'd gotten of that kind of 'outdoorsy' stuff had never been very positive. The company retreat was legendary for its 'earthiness', and she'd managed to weasel out of it five years in a row. Her boss was onto her tricks though, and she wouldn't make it six.

She'd waited two or three minutes to let the smell dissipate, but the mosquitoes were biting in that damp section of woods, so she went in. The smell had modified a bit, mixing as it had with the stench of everyone else's shit in the hole under the seat, but it was still vile. Her eyes were watering by the time she'd done her business and left.

Apart from the crudities of the situation — bathroom needs, comfortable sleeping, privacy and the like — Mary had to admit she was having fun. A different kind of fun than she was used to, but fun nonetheless. Part of it was seeing her boss, a man she'd long had a crush on, in the environment he loved. Part of it was cutting loose a little — swearing, drinking, hanging out with co-workers like they were 'the gang'.

It was day two of the retreat, a Tuesday morning. The company, an importer of Indian and African decorative art, shut down for the three day event every summer during the second week of July. The owner of the company, a forty-year-old Texan named Sturgill Moreland, got the idea for the retreat from his father's company back home in Dallas. When Sturgill opened his own business near Boston he adopted the idea. He had seen first hand how good it was for morale when he worked for his dad, and the same was true up North.

Sturgill had rented part of a campground when they first started the retreats, but the last few years they'd been held on his own property, one-hundred acres of New Hampshire woodland, at the edge of a beautiful mountain lake. His holdings included four small islands, three of them just rocky ledge with a few trees and scrubby shrubs, and one about a half-acre in size, with an old hand-hewn log fishing camp on it that Sturgill was fixing up.

The mainland property, all one hundred acres of it, was pure and mostly untouched, with huge trees that hadn't been logged in over a century. A rutted, pothole filled 'road' worked it's way in from the main dirt road, all the way through the deep woods to the water's edge, where Sturgill had built six primitive lean-tos, two on the water front and four scattered in the woods. They were all connected with newly cleared trails, and all were fairly convenient to the old outhouse. In the center of the little complex three picnic tables end to end were sheltered under a post and beam roof structure, with a huge fire pit next to it. The fire burned constantly throughout the retreat, and the camp chairs surrounding it, with a lovely view of the lake and the islands, were the main gathering place.

"I swear to God Sturgill, if you don't build a better place for a girl to take a shit I won't be back," Mary said. Everyone chuckled as she reclaimed her chair by the fire, her face still contorted by the awful stench that lingered in her lungs.

"We're supposed to get back to nature here, isn't that right boss?" a young man said. His name was Brian, one of two men who worked in the warehouse, driving a forklift and unpacking and packing boxes.

"I gotta admit, it is pretty bad this year," Sturgill said. "It's a deal Mary. I'll build it and you'll be here next year. No excuses."

"Crap, I botched that one didn't I," Mary said, and everyone chuckled again.

"It's that cheap whiskey," John said. "I don't stink so bad when I drink the good stuff."

"Jack Daniels next year, in honor of Mary's nose," Sturgill said. "She shows up one time and the whole thing improves. That's what I like about you Mary. Same thing happened with the business."

Mary smiled. She worked hard as the company's number cruncher, doing bookkeeping and payroll, and she appreciated being appreciated.

"Check this out!" an approaching voice said.

It was Rodney, a good Irish Catholic from Boston's Southie section. Handsome too. He worked with Brian in the warehouse, and had a nice big small mouth bass in his hands.

"Beauty, idnit? Got a bunch of 'em. Joanie's got some crappie and a coupla bullhead. Lunch's gonna be good taday!" he said in his thick Boston accent.

Joan was the manager of operations, Sturgill's second in command. She was fishing from a granite ledge that protruded into the lake. Rodney wandered back down to her, with his fish.

"You should get a head start cleanin' those fish honey," a middle aged woman said.

"Good idea. You lugs'll be hungry soon," the man sitting next to her said.

They were Trixie and Norm, a tough, blue-collar couple who met at the company and got married four years ago. Norm drove the company truck, and Trixie took care of all the paper work in the warehouse.

"Wanna help him Mary?" Trixie asked, with mischief in her eyes.

"Hey, I'm not such a wimp," Mary said. "Maybe I will."

"I'll get a knife for ya honey," Norm said when he saw her getting up to join him.

"This I gotta see!" Trixie said.

The three of them went down to where Rodney and Joan were fishing. An half-hour later all five of them walked up to the picnic tables with a plastic bag full of fillets and two skinned bullhead.

"You shoulda seen the look on her face when I ripped the skin offa them bullheads!" Rodney laughed.

"Hey, I did good!" Mary said.

"She did at that!" Trixie said. "I never thought I'd see the day, Mary rippin' the guts out of a fish!"

"Yup, I gotta admit, she's a troopa," Rodney said.

A young woman wandered down a trail toward the fire. "Who's a trooper?" she said with a tired voice.

"Mary! She's been cleanin' fish!" Rodney said.

"Holy shit!" the young woman said as she sat down slowly in a chair, nursing a hangover. "See, I told you all last night I thought she had a secret side."

"You were right, Tina," Joan said. "You gonna tell all our fortunes?"

"I predict a wild party, with plenty of whiskey," she said.

Tina was the 'new girl' at the company, hired nine months ago fresh out of school, with a two year associates degree in 'office management'. It was a fancy name for secretarial school. She answered the phones and did the clerical work at the company. A frisky twenty-one-year-old blue-collar city girl, everyone at the company really enjoyed her high-spirited nature. Her short, modern haircut and petite, big-breasted body brought a little eye-candy to the office too, which all the men appreciated.

"If you hadn't drunk so much Tina, you coulda got in on the fun too," Trixie said.

"Oh yeah, I'm really sorry I missed that! Rippin' out fish guts and all," she said quietly. "How come you're all so cheerful this morning? I'm not the only one who hit the whiskey hard."

"We weren't exactly doin' jumpin' jax this mornin' honey," Trixie said. "And it's almost noon you know. That little body of yours doesn't help either. I know the guys love it, but there's not much of ya to soak up the booze."

"We got some vodka for your O.J. if you wanna little hair o' the dog," Brian said.

"Fuck yeah," she said quietly. "Somebody make me one. I'll be right back."

She rose from her chair slowly and walked carefully down the pine needle covered path to the water, placing each footstep gently, so as not to jar her brain. It was a powerful hangover, and her mind was in a massive fog, not thinking clearly at all as she pulled off her t-shirt and took off her loose cotton shorts. She walked into the water naked as the day she was born.

"Well that's one way to do it," Trixie said as she and the others watched.

"Yeah it is!" John said softly, mesmerized by the sight. "Mary, you wanna trade lean-to's with me?"

"Yeah, you wish," Mary said.

"She's way outta your league Johnnie," Norm said.

"Hey I know. A guy can dream, can't he?" John said.

"We don't all need to be starin' at her for cripes sake," Trixie said as they watched Tina emerge from the water. "They're just big lumps o' flesh ya know."

On the little gravely beach Tina pulled on her t-shirt, which stuck to her wet body, and slipped her wet legs into her shorts before walking back up the path to the fire.

"God that felt good," she said as she collapsed into a chair. Brian handed her a plastic cup full of strong screwdriver. "Oh yeah!" she said after a big sip. "Back to normal soon."

Lake water dripped off her hair, soaking her shirt even more. John and Brian and Rodney were caught in the tractor beam, unable to look away.

"What, you guy's never seen tits before? What the fuck!" she said.

"Let's fry up that fish boys," Trixie said. "I'm gettin' hungry."

Trixie was the chief cook on the retreats, but for this meal she recruited the men's help, to get their mind off of...things. They all worked together to get the lunch on the table, just the way Sturgill liked to see. That was the whole point of the retreats after all — camaraderie and learning to help one another out.

Mary let the others do the cooking and sat with Tina by the fire, feeling like she had done her part helping to clean the fish. She'd helped a lot with dinner the night before too.

"Here ya go Mary," Brian said, putting an un-asked for screwdriver in her hand.

"Oh, thanks Brian," she said.

She took a sip. Whoa, that's a lot of vodka, she thought, but it warmed her nicely. She didn't say anything to Tina, knowing the young girl was hurting. She'd be hurting to, she thought, if she'd hit the whiskey the way Tina had the night before. Mary was amazed at how well Tina had controlled herself after drinking that much, although there was some sexy talk that threatened to get out of hand until Sturgill steered the conversation a different way. A dark night in the woods, a lot of mostly single people. Mary could see how it could easily get...interesting. When they'd turned in for the night in the lean-to they shared, she was slightly shocked by Tina's easy way with nudity, stripping down to nothing in the lantern light before slithering into her soft, down-filled sleeping bag.

The fire cracked loud, and the smell of frying fish perfumed the air.

"Think we'll get lucky tonight?" Tina said softly, breaking the silence.

"What?" Mary said quietly, with surprise in her eyes.

"You know," Tina said. "It's fun out in the woods."

"Come and get it!" Trixie yelled from the table.

The eight of them sat at the picnic tables for the lunchtime fish-fry, with room for many more. Sturgill was planning to expand the business in the coming year, and his retreat was ready for it.

————————

A lazy afternoon of swimming, fishing, sunbathing and reading morphed almost imperceptibly into happy hour. By the time dinner was being cooked — thick steaks on a big charcoal grill — the whiskey was flowing freely again. The conversation around the dinner table was free-ranging, but some of it was about the Sturgill's property, and everyone had an opinion on how they would use it, if it was theirs.

"Did you see that promontory, ova' that way," Rodney said, gesturing through the woods. "Oh my Gawd! Right on the wata'! I'd build a place right up theya'. Fuckin' perfect."

"I dunno, I think Sturgill's got the right idea. Keep it like this, and use that camp out on the island," Norm said. "How's it comin' anyway?"

"It's not quite done, but it's usable. All stocked up and comfortable," Sturgill said.

"Nice," Norm said.

"I though we were gonna get a chance to see it," Mary said. "You've been talking about it so much."

"I guess everybody's seen it except you Mary, and Tina," Sturgill said. "I didn't bring the bigger boat this time. The canoe's here though."

After the dinner cleanup was complete the chairs around the fire started to fill up, and two whiskey bottles were in play, keeping the plastic cups filled. There were some beer chasers involved too.

"Let's paddle out and take a look at the camp before it gets dark," Sturgill said to Mary and Tina.

"Oh, can we? It's not too late?" Mary said.

"No, it's perfect timing," Sturgill said. "Beautiful evening for a paddle."

The three of them walked down to the water where the canoe was stashed in some bushes.

"In that little fuckin' thing?" Tina said. "No thanks, you guys are on your own." She winked at Mary and smiled, and wandered back toward the fire.

"I guess it's just the two of us," Sturgill said. "You up for a romantic paddle in the twilight?"

"Coming here has proven to me I'm sorta ready for anything," Mary said, her eyes twinkling.

The only ripples on the entire lake came from the bow of the canoe as it sliced through the glass-clear water. Four ducks flew by, just a few feet above the water, and disappeared behind the island Sturgill was heading for. Mary had a paddle too, but she didn't know exactly what to do with it so she tentatively dipped it in the water, letting the expert in the back of the canoe guide them. Nightfall was overtaking them quicker than she'd expected, and the island, with it's tall white pine trees silhouetted against the dark orange sky, looked mysterious.

"We takin' bets on whether they come back tonight?" Tina said as everyone watched them paddle away.

"You think?" Trixie asked, her eyes twinkling.

"I think," Tina said, nodding. "I see the two of them together every day. There's a lot there they've been holdin' back, right Joanie? I think it's gonna be fuckin' epic. How fuckin' romantic too, out on an island like that."

"It's perfect, isn't it," Joan said. "I've been waitin' for it for years. I think they both think gettin' together's not 'business like' or somethin'. Fuck that. Life's too short."

Joan rarely swore, but surrounded by users of blue language, and way out in the woods, she loosened up. The annual three day retreat was her favorite time of the year. At fifty-five years old, with an abusive, alcoholic husband at home, she reveled in every minute spent in the bucolic woods. Fishing, drinking, swearing, flirting with the men...it was three days of heaven for her.

"There's a light," Tina said, looking out across the dusky darkness of the water. "Looks like they made it."

———————

An hour later the scene in the one-room cabin was one of pure romance. Two tumblers of smooth tasting brandy, half finished on the table. Flickering candle light. Discarded clothes strewn about on the floor. Two naked bodies on an old brass bed, exploring each other intimately for the first time.

Mary's heart beat as it never had before, pumping her body full of liquid euphoria. Sturgill was everything she'd ever dreamed of in a man — tall, strong, handsome, intelligent and thoughtful. Having him naked in her arms was almost too much to comprehend.

The same was true for Sturgill. Mary had captivated him from the day he first met her. She had that certain something, a way of carrying herself that transcended her somewhat average looks. Radiant was the word he thought of on many mornings when she came in to work, her smile lighting up the tired early hours of the day. He'd wanted to tell her she looked that way — radiant — on so many occasions, but thought better of it. He was 'the boss' after all, and felt he needed to keep things professional.

When he finally talked Mary into joining everyone on the retreat he had been hoping for a moment that would pull them together somehow. He had a strong feeling she felt the same way, and all it would take was the right moment. The paddle across the calm water to the camp, with Mary sitting quietly in the bow of the canoe as the ducks flew by, that was the moment. He let it burn into his brain, never to be forgotten until his dying day.

"Are all the men in Texas this...big?" Mary said, stroking Sturgill's hard cock with her slender fingers.

Her head was on his chest, his arm around her. They'd started their lovemaking standing up, their naked bodies pressed together as a long wet kiss swept them both away. Tumbling onto the bed left Sturgill flat on his back, his big cock in Mary's hand.

"I hope you don't mind someone who's a beginner at...certain things," she said as she continued the slow stroking.

Her eyes were locked on the hard shaft as her head moved off Sturgill's chest, her hair tickling his belly as her mouth was drawn to it. Mary wasn't a cock sucker. She'd only dabbled in it before, without much confidence, the last time nearly a decade ago. But this, this felt different to her. It felt like a gourmet meal when the others were just snacks. She was hungry for it, in a way that surprised her.

She found herself on her knees next to Sturgill on the bed, her mouth positively stuffed full of cock, her mind nearly out of this world, lost in the moment. Sturgill pulled at her leg, and without thinking she lifted it over him, letting him guide her into something new. Sixty-nine. It was a first for Mary, and it happened so naturally, so organically. It was staggeringly wonderful.

Over on shore, the big fire flickered and snapped as Brian poked at it with a stick, rearranging one of the glowing logs. Pitch black darkness enveloped the woods surrounding the fire, and an unearthly howl drifted on the night air.

"The loons are out tonight," Norm said.

"That's no fuckin' loon, that's Mary!" Rodney said.

"Holy shit!" Norm said.

"I always hoped they'd get together. I hope it works out for them," Trixie said.

"Whanna take bets on when the wedding is?" Tina said.

Five minutes later Mary was flat on her back on the old brass bed. Sturgil was on top of her, his muscular upper body raised up on his arms, his cock thrusting fast, deep into Mary's velvety pussy. He looked down at her, the look of ecstasy on her face, the lovely tits moving free. She glowed with a new kind of radiance, a kind he'd not yet seen. It suddenly hit him that he was deeper in love than he thought any person could be. Mary felt it too, a pure intensity of emotion unlike anything she'd ever felt. She came like gangbusters, sending another mysteriously erotic cry of love across the dark, placid water.

"Fuckin' hot, isn't it?" Tina said when she heard the sound, her dark eyes starting to show the first tell-tale signs of lust. "God I love bein' fucked."

"Tina!" Joan said, her eyes big with wonder at Tina's brazenness. Joan's mouth curled in a little smile.

"What! Who doesn't!" Tina said. "I never understood why people get so worked up about it anyway. It's fun, right? It's supposed to be anyway."

Everyone was silent, staring at the fire, not sure of how the new and exciting conversation should proceed.

Mary let out another wail, this time with even more erotic intensity, if that was possible.

"Fuck, that shit makes me horny. I don't know about you assholes, but why should they have all the fun," Tina said. She pulled off her t-shirt, and as her big tits settled, the dancing firelight made them look like they were still moving. "You all gonna sit there and stare at 'em?" she said as she unfastened her faded jeans and stripped them off, panties and all. "Who's in? You in Trix? Joanie?"

riverboy
riverboy
4,570 Followers
12