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Last Wives Club -- 11 -- A New Challenge

Our heroine is sent to recover a lost asset.
Sir. We offer our condolences and our continued association. We will mourn our beloved sister, your beloved wife, and your children for one year. It is our custom. We will contact you in one year.

That was the message transmitted to Gabriel MacAdams by his late wife's sponsor, one week after his wife and both of their children had perished in a car accident, while on their way to meet him for a vacation. I knew very little about Theresa MacAdams, other than it seemed she was much loved by her husband. Gabriel had buried her in a Catholic cemetery. He had visited her grave, and the graves of their children, weekly for the past year. He had kissed her headstone every time.

But he had stopped attending Mass, after having attended for all of his life, even having been an altar boy. That spoke to how bereft of solace his life had become. His career was in limbo, because our 'guidance' of it was suspended, because we had no hold on him that we could use without dishonoring his late wife.

He had been our choice for CEO when the current CEO of the company I work for retired. He was a VP of the mother corporation and President of one of the subsidiaries. He was also my boss's boss's boss. I had just been informed that my sisters wanted me to establish contact with him anonymously, by making a gift of myself, offering him the temporary use of my body, whoring myself out to him, doing what we do when extortion isn't the better option.

"Why did I get 'volunteered' for this, Kyra?"

"I don't know why Cate Blanc was chosen, Cath. I don't even know how she was chosen. I'm not familiar with the selection process for something like this. Somehow you ended up at the top of somebody's short list."

That Kyra was so clueless and yet chosen to present the request was a clue. Assuming I had been truthfully informed, she was unaware of my involvement with the black card sisters, unaware of their very existence. I had to suspect that was meaningful.

"The word came to me from my sponsor, Cath. She seemed just as confused. Nothing like this has ever been passed to me, but his situation is unique. We watched him twenty-four-seven for a year and we're reasonably sure that he hasn't been with a woman in all that time. We don't have cause to believe that he's waiting for us, but before the accident, we had indications from Theresa that he had guessed much more about us than we knew and that he cooperated because he shared our goals, not because we had any real hold on him.

"We usually lose the man when we lose a sister. For some reason, Theresa's sponsor sent this anonymously, I guess hoping that we could resume our plans for your company and for him. We want to try the tender trap."

The tender trap. Me. He would have to like me, respect me, maybe even love me, as a result of meeting me, and the attraction will have to be strong enough to get him to willfully join us, partner with us in our exploitation of his power within his company. "What makes them think I can pull this off?"

"Again, I don't know, Cath. What you did with Mr. Palmer was breathtaking, sheer genius. I could not believe my eyes."

"You saw the video?"

"Yes. Mrs. Cleveland thought I should see it. I wanted to use it for a training video, but she insisted on deleting it."

A training video? Could there possibly be training for the favors we perform for sisters?

"Mrs. Cleveland wrote a very thorough report from it though, and of course that was seen by others. Maybe that had something to do with your selection. I know that you've only chosen to be gifted to old men, the least capable lovers. You've made a lot of women grateful. But that skill doesn't make sense here. He's not dying, he's just not living. He's supposedly a great lover."

"So, I'm to be sacrificed to a guy who probably knows more about us than I do, and there's low chance of success, but I might get a good fuck in the process. I'm just afraid that I'll screw things up and damage our chances, or say something about us that I shouldn't."

"Maybe that can't happen, Cath. Maybe they selected you because you're not so highly connected or not so knowledgeable about our organization, that you can do much damage to us. His profile says that he values honesty and abhors deceit, so you'll have to be very subtle. His IQ is pretty high. You can tell him what you know about us, because frankly that isn't much. You haven't had a need to know."

I knew about the black card sisters and the existence of green card sisters, but Kyra didn't know that. I had reason to doubt that she knew about either of them. But it isn't difficult to not reveal anything he wouldn't know to ask about. "What else does his profile say."

"A lot. We gained much of the data from Theresa, but also much of it came from women sent as gifts by her. But we have no idea what might have changed in him since the accident. He could reasonably be quite bitter, although we see no indication that he has any problem with us. Let's go over everything I have, and then we'll need your decision."

I studied his profile and eventually decided to take the assignment. I had seen him at work, noted how handsome he was, how well respected, and how troubled he had been since the tragedy. He lived in a very nice leased house. Perhaps he did not know it, but the house was owned by the sisters and the security system was completely compromised so they could monitor him.

He was at a crucial point in his career, but considering what he had suffered, nobody would have been surprised if he had chosen to drop out of life. Instead, he had spent the past year exercising, becoming more handsome, reading extensively about the history of Catholicism, and writing in a journal that he kept in a nightstand beside his bed. My assignment included getting a look at that book, if possible.

As I approached his house, I began to feel so out of my depth that I almost turned back. I was wearing my 'Mrs. Cate Confidence' trenchcoat and mask, but I did not feel confident. I did not fear for my safety, although the possibility that I would be met with violence was at the back of my mind. I feared I would simply screw the assignment up, accomplishing nothing or causing damage to future negotiations with him. Asking myself, 'What would a confident woman' do wasn't helping. 'Honesty, Cate, honesty.'

I rang the bell and saw the infrared illuminators light me up. I looked up where I expected a camera to be.

"Yes? Who's there please."

"My name is Cate, Sir. Mrs. Cate Blanc. I believe you may be expecting me." Of course he wasn't, not unless he remembered the note he had received a year earlier. But he knew what a trenchcoat and a mask meant. And with his IQ, I was fairly confident that he could put two and two together and come up with an interesting evening. I had timed my arrival for just about the time when he would start writing in his book.

The monitors who watched him confirmed that he had finished his workout and then showered, sticking to his routine. Three nights a week, it was assumed that he pleasured himself in the dark after writing in his book. This was determined by the movement of a tissue dispenser on his nightstand. This night was one of those nights.

"I'll be down in a minute, Cate."

He opened the door and told me to come in. "And you may invite your bodyguard in, if you wish."

"Will I need a bodyguard, Sir?"

"No, of course not."

"She does other work while sitting in the car, Sir." Margo had turned me over to her local counterpart, Bethany. She seemed every bit as capable as Margo and had also assumed the role of sponsor for my activities with the black card sisters.

"As you wish. I will leave the front door unlocked. May I take your coat?"

"Thank you, Sir." I opened my coat with my back turned to him, allowing the silk lining to slide off my bare skin as he slid it off my shoulders.

"Please, Cate, unless you wish me to call you Mrs. Blanc, call me Gabriel or even Gabe if you would like."

I turned to him as he said this and let him take in the view. My time with the personal trainers had paid off. I was not a lean mean fuckin' machine, but I was looking much better than most 40 year old women and had more strength and stamina. "Thank you, Gabriel. May I?"

I reached for the belt on his bathrobe. Every 'gift' he had received from his wife had written the same thing in his profile. The visits start with a standing blowjob in the foyer, progress to conversation in the library, then to five star sex in the bedroom. I was showing him that I knew his habits. He allowed his robe to open and I dropped to my knees. At first I thought that the five star sex must have come from a different man. His flaccid cock was very small. 'At least this will be easy on the mouth,' I thought.

I leaned forward and licked his tiny prick. I expected that it would grow, but not so quickly. It responded eagerly to my tongue and lips. Soon it was filling my mouth and I had to place a hand on it to stroke it while my mouth barely fit over the dark purple head. It expanded in length and thickness until it was very large indeed, not as large as Benedict's, but not far from it.

His breathing guided me and I quickly became confident that he would soon come. I had already decided to attempt to swallow his load. I hadn't done that with any man, but Claire had told me, "It's impossible to go wrong when you try. Men appreciate the effort if you fail, and if you succeed, it boosts their ego."

His hips started to move. "I'm going to come, Cate."

I continued and felt the pulse as his first squirt sprayed out onto the back of my tongue. I took two more squirts, swallowed all three at once, and then pulled my mouth just far enough away that the remaining dribbles coated my lips and chin as I kissed and licked the tip.

He closed his bathrobe as his cock began to shrink. "Thank you, Cate. You clearly aren't a pro."

He paused then, as if waiting for a response, but I played a hunch and stayed silent. Then he followed his first comment with, "I'm very glad they didn't send a pro."

I stood and he offered to show me to a bathroom so that I could 'freshen up', but I assured him that I was fine. I wanted him to see me as his cum dried on my face, to know that, as we talked, I was not uncomfortable, despite not being a 'pro', about having orally pleased him.

We entered his library and he indicated a straight-backed armless leather chair for me to sit in. It was facing his reading chair. He offered me a drink, saying that he was having scotch.

"The same, please, neat."

I sipped the scotch and felt the pleasing burn of it. "Mmmmmm, this has to be a single malt. It has a smokey finish, but I'm not familiar with it. It's exceptional."

"Talisker. 18 years. May we get down to business" I nodded my assent and took another sip.

"I assume you're here to negotiate for the sisterhood."

Negotiate? Sisterhood? I'm not sure which was more unexpected. "Negotiate? That's not something I can do, Sir. That would be premature."

"If you're not here to negotiate, why exactly did they send you. I mean no offense, but if you're just here to butter me up, they could have sent a younger and more, well, less, um..."

I raised my eyebrow and affected a slight smirk. I knew what he was saying. They could have sent a pro and she would have been younger and more beautiful and less 'motherly' than me. When the time seemed right, I decided that honesty was called for and I rescued him.

"I'm not here just to butter you up. I am an offering of sorts, but this is more of a first contact situation, after... our mutual tragic loss. I'm not sure why they picked me. I'm neither a negotiator nor a... perfect specimen. But I am attentive and I have been tasked with ascertaining what you desire from us. We wish to continue our association, but it's difficult to determine how to motivate someone when you don't know what they desire."

"I see. This is unexpected, but it seems plausible. One thing I desire is answers. Can you provide those?"

"I'll tell you what I can. I'm not exactly knowledgeable about much. Maybe that's why I was selected."

"Let's start with an easy one. Who's the boss? The head of your organization?"

"Oh, I certainly don't know that, or even if there is one. There are rumors about a Dragon Lady, an Ice Queen, a Council of Elders, a coven of witches, and even that we're all fooling ourselves and the top bitch is a gay man. My personal favorite is the Bene Gesserit priestesses, but as far as I know, we have no breeding program."

"Okay, Cate. Thank you. I got the message. It's a waste of time to attempt to unravel the ball of yarn and find the center. What can you tell me about the structure of your organization?"

"That's an easy one. I have a sponsor and I am a sponsor of one other woman, so far."

I did not think that he should know about my second sponsor and I did not want to say anything that hinted that we were more than the group of married sisters of which his late wife was a part.

"I believe that I have many sisters around the world, but much is handled on a need-to-know basis. We have a sort of caste system based on... well, I'm not really sure what it's based on, merit, past performance, maybe proven loyalty."

"So it's a patronage system?"

"Well, that's a sexist term, but reasonably accurate."

"Okay, that really wasn't as helpful as I expected it to be. Perhaps you can tell me what exactly motivates you to be part of this organization. And don't tell me that it's simply an altruistic desire to promote global peace and prosperity."

"I actually think peace is redundant. I mean, you can't really have global prosperity without peace. But I know what you mean, it does seem kind of hokey. But we're mothers. We want the best for our children and we relate best to other mothers. We network. We have a lot in common.

"But maybe I can make it real simple for you, Gabe. When I ask myself whether I would want this organization to exist for the sake of my children, the answer comes up yes. And by being a part of it, I do my part to make it exist and to make it be, in some small sense, what I want it to be. I believe that even if there was some corrupting influence tainting the big picture, that would be beyond my ability to control. But I have enough control to help me to create the kind of world that I want to live in.

"I won't say that we're perfect. I thought that we were more ruthless than we needed to be in one instance, and it almost had disastrous results. But we're dealing with men. Some are unruly beasts of burden. Others are clever adversaries dedicated to dominating their wives. We normally side with their wives. I wouldn't call that altruistic. It actually qualifies as selfish, but I'm okay with that. Does it really have to be more diabolical than a woman's selfish desire to tilt the playing field toward greater security for her children, herself, and women in general?"

"That was... unexpectedly convincing. Self-actualization is a concept so few understand. And so we get to how you can motivate me. I have no more children. I can see working with you to continue Theresa's legacy. But I do want more. I want children. Forgive me for being blunt, but women have a shelf life when it comes to childbirth. I want to pass the fruits of my success on to my own offspring. And I want to raise them in a family with their mother. But you are all married women and that makes me think you might not have anything to offer me."

"Ah, I can understand your concern. I, for instance, would not be suitable. I have a husband and that would mean a divorce and that is what we strive to avoid. And my childbearing days are behind me. I'm off the shelf. But I can see a way to a solution. Let's be specific. You need a wife. She has to be younger than you. Younger than me. Let's say no more than thirty-five. Two, or at most three, more births in her. She should be healthy and a screened, proven mother. Are stepchildren unwelcome?"

"No, but the fewer the better, and preferably girls. Boys might be prone to comparing me unfavorably to their father."

"I'm not sure that's true, but if you believe it is, we can use anything to narrow the candidate pool. Any minimum age? A man in your position... a trophy wife can be..."

"Let's say no younger than twenty-eight. The younger they are, the harder they are to understand. Not that I'm expecting to have much in common with her, but if we can converse, it will assist in creating the illusion that we're compatible."

"The illusion? So this will be a sham marriage. Acting ability is a plus."

"Yes, she'll need to be an actress playing a role. She shouldn't expect a traditional marriage. I'm not ruling out... love. But it just seems unlikely. Single women have been... throwing themselves at me, and... I'm not responding."

"I can understand that, Gabe. My, um, sponsored one calls it swimming in an unfiltered pool. We can try to filter it to your needs."

"Thank you for understanding. I've lost so much. I want a companion, but she doesn't have to be exclusive. She can be what the sisterhood needs her to be. I just have to know that the kids she has are mine."

"Of course. DNA testing will be a condition we can live with."

"What I had with Theresa was good, especially once we got past our difficulties. I don't want to be exclusive either. I enjoy not being limited to one lover and I like the anonymous gifts."

"Gifts can be made part of the arrangement. Might I suggest that she should be Catholic? Not necessarily devout, but we do have a culture that gives us common ground."

"Yes, that makes sense. You are Catholic, too?"

I chuckled, "If Sister Marie could see me now. I'm not devout. But if your children would have to attend Mass, we should settle that up front."

"Perhaps that would be best. If it's not too much trouble."

"I see no deal breakers here. Of course I'm not making any guarantees. But we have extensive resources and ample motivation to have an agreement with you. I'll certainly carry this back."

"And you say you're not a negotiator."

"I don't believe that I've negotiated. I've just..."

"You've given me hope, Cate. I couldn't see how a man like me could have found a woman for what we've talked about. It's not exactly something you get from an ad in the paper. But I'm not done with my conditions, Cate."

"You have more to add?"

"I have more to ask. When I was looking down from above, I noticed something in your mask. It looks electronic. I'm assuming a transmitter at least. Perhaps a receiver also. Are they telling you what to say to me."

"No, Gabriel. It is just a transmitter. My bodyguard is listening, but you are the only person talking to me."

"Can you turn the transmitter off?"

"I have that ability, but I would prefer not to. Not that I'm afraid of what could happen if she couldn't hear me. I feel safe with you. But she might become nervous about being out of touch, and I would spare her that."

"Thank you. I have no objection to leaving it on. I just wanted to further assess you. You are not like the other women that I've met this way. The absurdity of this situation is not lost on me. You sit there stark naked, but as poised as royalty, horsetrading with the future of some other woman, and making me feel completely comfortable with you. I've said some things that other women might have jumped on the defensive about. You saw through them. If it was at all possible, I would insist right now that you become the mother of my children. You have impressed me that much."

"Thank you, Gabriel. I appreciate the sentiment."

"Because you have impressed me so, I want you to be their negotiator, or their face for me, or however you want to look at it. You mentioned sponsoring other women. If it's not outside the realm of possibility, I want you to be my sponsor. But there's one thing that has to change. I will not negotiate with a faceless entity."

This really put me on the spot. Anonymity was a shield from consequences, but there would now be consequences if I didn't drop that shield. I asked myself what a confident and honest woman would do. I took a big sip of the eighteen year old Talisker, removed my mask, and set it beside me on the tea table. I looked up from it and knew immediately that he recognized me.

"Catherine Geroux. This is a surprise. I guess I should have suspected. I approved your transfer, under pressure from the mothership, and frankly under protest. I didn't think you had the right experience for the slot you hold."

Again, I just waited as he paused for my reaction.

"But I've heard nothing but good things about you. And the numbers have reversed their downward trend. You certainly proved me wrong. Nicely played."

"Thank you, Mr. MacAdams."

"Please, we're not at work. I'm still Gabriel in my own home. I trust that we can still be professional at work."

I smiled. "I think I can separate my role as naive pawn of evil witch priestesses from my day job. I can't say that the 'sisterhood' will negotiate through me, especially now that my position in your company has been revealed. I would not be surprised if there's a counteroffer that throws someone less connected and more skilled into a seat at the table. In general, we prefer to use leverage, but perhaps less control and more cooperation will be warranted when we have sufficient common cause. And if revealing myself was a requirement, then I can only ask that you not make me regret it."

"I will not."

"Are there any other conditions?"

"No, Catherine."

"Then perhaps we should recap and then seal this... agreement to negotiate."

We recapped, adding a few minor flourishes, and then arrived at that awkward moment where the next step was into the bedroom. Fortunately, the scotch made the moment more pleasant. As I finished the last sip, he rose from his chair and I rose from mine. I picked up the mask, aware that I would be having sex with another man for the first time without the protection of anonymity, and I would also, for the first time, be aware that there would be both audio and video recording of me being fucked. As we stepped into his bedroom, it took all of my self control not to look up at the concealed camera that had watched his solitary existence for the past year.

"Catherine, it has been so long for me. May I just revel in your body first?"

"That would be great foreplay. I love the feel of a man's hands on me."

He gave me a long luxurious full body rub. I was lying in his bed on my stomach at first and he probably massaged every square inch of my backside. It all felt like a lover's touch. By the time he asked me to roll on my back, my nipples were hard and I could distinctly feel my nectar oozing. My front side got as much attention as my back. He even rubbed my forehead muscles.

He kissed me on the lips, surprising me. I don't allow that when I'm a gift to a sister's husband. It would feel like I was betraying her trust. But that was not an issue here and my kisses were not all reserved for my husband. So I kissed Gabriel back, and something inside me really woke up.

His kisses trailed down my body to my nipples. Each little pinch between his lips, and each swipe of his tongue across one. sent a little jolt of pleasure through me, stoking the fire down below. He kissed on downward, across my belly and into my pussy. He was exceptional at that, not as good as Claire, but rivaling Kyra, and much better than Dan. He quickly brought me to a very good orgasm and set me up for another.

"Please fuck me, Sir."

I didn't realize that I had actually said that aloud until he said, "Gabriel".

"Please fuck me, Gabriel."

When his cock entered me, it was a revelation. I didn't know that the missionary position with a man could feel so good. It never had with Dan. Being under Gabriel, bearing some of his weight and feeling him thrust into me as he planted little kisses on my face was magical. I had a second orgasm, this one more rich with the exquisite feel of his big cock stretching me.

It wasn't quite over yet, when he flipped me over into the doggie position. I put one hand at the top of the headboard and the other on my clit, a first, without the cover of anonymity. He fondled both nipples as he pounded into me and I came a third time as his cum erupted into me. I envied the lucky woman who would become the mother of his children, a woman I hoped to help find for him.

We collapsed into the bed and regained our normal breathing.

"If you become my sponsor, can we do this when we meet?"

"It would be agreeable to me, as long as we can avoid scandal."

I rested, nestled in the crook of his arm until he had to pee. That provided the opportunity to fulfill the third objective. I peeked into the book he had left on his nightstand. He was preparing to write in it before I rang his doorbell. I felt guilty when I saw the title. 'Memories of Theresa, Angela and Gabe Jr. Vol. 6'. I leafed through it quickly, stopping every 50 pages or so to verify that it was, as the title suggested, recalled pieces of his shattered past. I replaced it on the nightstand and picked up my mask, knowing that I would never wear it again with him.

When he showed me to the door, he presented me with a bottle of the Taliskers. "I've never met another woman who appreciated this. Theresa would have wanted you to have it. It was her favorite. Thank you, Catherine for giving me hope."

As I walked to the car, I wondered why Gabriel had ever strayed from their marriage vows. He clearly loved Theresa very much. Had she been like me, frigid and disillusioned due to unrealistic expectations that no man could reasonably be expected to tolerate? Had she driven him into the arms of another woman, as I was increasingly convinced that I had done with Dan. I had viewed with dismay the profile that slowly emerged from the reports submitted by the many gifts that I had to sent my husband before my transfer to Columbus. So many other women considered him to be a good fuck.

When I got into the car, I smelled pussy. It was clear that Bethany, and I don't know how many other sisters, had been listening in. Bethany had enjoyed herself. I switched the transmitter off. I could tell that she had already switched off the relay tranceiver that had uploaded the streaming audio to the network. "Did I do well, Bethany?"

"You sure did, Cate. Did you guess that the black card sisters could be candidates? Or did you know that we sometimes help find suitable husbands for them?"

"I guessed that. We have the resources to be matchmakers, and what batch of old crones wouldn't?"

"Good point. I'd have his babies if I still could. He sounded like quite a man. You realize he's infatuated with you now."

"Yes, I caught that. I threw him a life rope. Now I've got to keep him from rolling the canoe. At least I can have some fun doing it."


"Hive fives, ladies. Barbie, thank you for the excellent suggestion."

"Thanks, Liz."

"Kyra, Margo, Bethany, if we were all together, I would kiss you all and buy you all an adult beverage. It looks like we found a new member for the Red Council. She opened him like a favorite storybook. And how about that sex. I'm totally going to synch that video and audio and save that in my private library."

"Can you copy me on that liz?"

"Sure, Kyra. Anyone else?



"Yeah, me too."

"Well done, all. Goodnight ladies."

"Good night, all. Kyra Cardinal, out."

"Adios muchachas, Barbie Malibu, out."

"Until next week. Bethany Riviera, out."

"Bon soir. Margo Wren, out."

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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