Sales Trip Bonus

[Kyanimal]

LOVED it!!

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

 

[Kulindahr]

Another great chapter! A new light on the functions of a laundry!

One of my dreams, looking back on my life in an "if I'd known who I was, what might I have tried?" sort of way.

 

[Kulindahr]

13

The Embarcadero didn't have four stars on travel websites for nothing. Casey immediately wished they'd stayed there -- it was moderate luxury, compared to the budget place -- but also immediately realized that would have been a very bad idea: many of those moving about the hall, including many bound for the ballroom, showed evidence of late partying, which wouldn't have done Cory any good. His friend was good, but he had to stay sharp, and with a head still painful from being slammed into motel furniture, he need sleep. Casey chuckled as he realized he was thinking like he was Cory's manager.

He sucked in breath at the sight of a bellhop, young and slender and fit. Cory would be in some meetings for a few hours, so he marked the kid as someone he'd try to get to earn a nice tip. For the moment he kept walking with Jaimi, breaking trail for Cory, who trailed behind them muttering and looking at note cards. He was going to some sort of salesman competition, was all Casey knew, and was studying.

"Name, please?" a middle-aged brunette with her hair done like Joy Behar's requested.

"Cory Kinsinger", Casey answered. "Right behind us."

Quite efficiently she rippled through a stack of cards and pulled out two. "Cory Kinsinger", she pronounced, handing over the first, "and guest. Only one guest", she said emphatically.

"That's me", Jaimi told her. He grabbed the chance to rib Casey. "This guy can't stand meetings."

The answer satisfied her; she handed over the second card. "Univelcro on the back; it'll stick to most fibers", she related. "Try them." Jaimi's stuck without a problem, but to get Cory's to stick, Jaimi had to rub hard. After six seconds they passed inspection. Casey pulled them aside and checked Cory's clothes and hair once more, until they passed his inspection.

"I'll try to have enough fun for you guys, too", Casey quipped as he waved farewell. Twenty minutes later he was tipping the bellhop, who he'd learned was a student at Oregon State, and whose cock was slightly disappointing and whose cum tasted horrid -- enough that he seriously advised the guy to eat more fruit.


Jaimi sweated along with Cory through the first competition. The salesman had drawn the one he'd been sweating over -- knowing the product line -- and was glad it was first. That and the boost he always got from Casey's hands running over his body to make everything perfect buoyed him when his turn came early.

The product line knowledge wasn't tested the way Jaimi would have thought, with a written test, but in a sales setting: a dozen "customers", among whom were five judges, listened to him pitch a product of his choice, and then peppered him with questions about others. Jaimi winced, but was proud of Cory, when a question came about paper towels for a deli.

"Ma'am, honestly -- I wouldn't recommend them for you. I know, when you think of a food service business the thought of paper towels is automatic. But the ones you're looking at in our product line aren't right for a deli -- they aren't absorptive enough and they aren't strong enough.
"Don't give up on me, though -- flip over to the 'for the workshop' section. On the fifth page there, look down to the middle. See the pack labeled 'rugged shop napkins'? I know, it wounds funny, having napkins for a shop, but they're called that because they come folded like napkins. They're made for shops where oil or paint or grease are common. But skip down to the seventh review -- a janitor recommends them as perfect for cleaning the outside of windows, because 'they clean bird droppings and tar both like a charm'.
"Now, in a deli you're going to have all kinds of things you'll want to mop up and scrub up. By the end of a day, there will be stray splatters that have dried hard and sticky -- these napkins will take off tar, and they'll take off anything you spill in a deli. Some days something might spill, and one of these absorbs twice as much -- and faster -- than our paper towels. Even if you have to bear down and really scrub, like if something burned onto the stove top, these will do the trick.
"Okay, you're looking at the price. Let me tell you a secret: when you use a paper towel to wipe the counter or wipe up a spill, it's done with. But the rugged napkins can be thrown in the laundry. Sure, they wear out, but you'll get five or six uses out of one before you toss it -- which means by ordering them and not the paper towels, you'll save money.
"Now you're thinking, 'what could I use a paper towel for I wouldn't use the rugged napkin for?' Honestly, the answer is 'not much', but I know there are some things --maybe wrapping a sandwich a customer suddenly decided to take with, instead of eating in. So sure, you'll want some of the paper towels for the deli, but for your main workhorse they're not what you want -- get the rugged napkins."

One judge marked him down for not pushing the product the customer asked about. But he got high marks for aiming at the customer's needs and probably building customer loyalty.


Casey stuck his head into the pump room. His target was as he'd been told: absolutely handsome, utterly fit -- and working in only a jockstrap, in the heat. He sauntered over and stood watching as the late-twenty-something read dials and adjusted settings. He was there a minute, starting to sweat, when the guy noticed him.

"What the fuck! How did you get in here?"

"I'm talented", Casey replied. "Hey -- one of your fellow workers says you suffer from stress on the job. I'm a stress therapist." He reached out and ran a finger down the trail of sweat from the guy's left armpit. The guy jumped. "Did you know that working while stressed increases the number of mistakes you make?" He sniffed the tip of that finger, then tasted it. "Wow -- I'd recommend a body massage for you."

"Um -- damn, that sounds good. I don't know -- I'm on the clock."

Casey looked around. "This can take a while, right? It looks complex."

"Well, yeah, but I need to finish it before I do anything else."

Casey nodded. "That makes sense -- go for it. Hey, do you mind if I sort of match your uniform? It's definitely hot in here?"

The guy glanced down at his own jock and tensed. But Casey's grin was so friendly and assuring that he just shrugged. "Whatever. Just don't go naked!"

Thirty minutes later Casey straddled the guy's hips. He'd worked down to the hips, and now reached under, fingers rubbing firmly, but every other second stroking sensually. The guy's hips rose off the exercise mat; Casey took it as an invitation and slid his fingers in. The strokes were sensual only, now. The guy breathed out unevenly when Casey's fingers stroked the side of the jock's pouch.

"That's gotta be tight", Casey said. "Let me help." Practiced fingers deftly slid the contents of the pouch free of its restraint while stroking. He settled the hard cock on the palm of his hand and pressed it up against decently firm abs. "Okay, relax again." The pool guy did as ordered, settling his weight down on the mat. Casey flickered his fingers across the bare skin as he retreated. The way those hips pushed down against the mat at the end told him this prize was his.


The first thing Cory saw when he wobbled out of the ballroom was Casey's grinning face. Half the tension in his body washed away merely at the sight, and he wondered how he'd ever managed to do the sales thing without this treasure of a friend. But Jaimi beat him to saying something. "Went for a nice drink, huh?" he asked with a grin.

Casey's grin widened as he held up two fingers. "Gave out some tips on taste, too", he related. "Some people need to use better ingredients." That brought Cory into focus, as his brain registered the fact that anyone listening would think Casey was talking about mixing drinks. His friend turned to him. "How'd you do?"

Jaimi answered. "He's been stellar!" He leaned close. "Though he wasn't entirely honest about how he made his biggest sale." Cory looked disgusted; his two friends laughed.

"I don't like having to lie", Cory told them. "It isn't right."

Jaimi rolled his eyes. "You didn't lie -- I was there, remember? Anyway, let's do lunch. Casey, did you find a place?"

"And made reservations", their buddy proclaimed. "I have to tip the guy afterward." Cory looked troubled at that.


After a long lunch, where Jaimi told of Cory's exploits while Casey refrained from telling his own, they wandered back to the Embarcadero. The sky threatened rain, but Casey counted no more than a dozen drops before they reached the lobby. "Let's look at those postings!" Jaimi urged.

"Wait", Casey ordered. He tugged at Cory's slacks, adjusted the belt, fixed the shirt collar. "Where's your tie?" he demanded.

"Um, here." Cory took it from the jacket slung over his arm. "We don't have to be--" But Casey was ignoring him, expertly executing his full Windsor knot and making sure it was centered and balanced. He left the shirt collar button loose, his one concession to the stepped-down formality Cory had been about to invoke. Cory shook his head, but couldn't repress a smile.

"Ohmifuckingod", Casey breathed. "Cory, you made the top ten!"

Cory looked where his friend's finger pointed and stared in disbelief. Sure enough, it was his name, out in the front of the pack. There wasn't any ranking given, just the grouping. "I have to go to seminars", he whispered. "The top thirty are in the running for prizes, but if I skip seminars I could get dropped."

"Ugh -- I liked watching you in action, but watching you be bored would bore me to death", Jaimi admitted. "I think I'll go swim. No, wait -- I can go naked on the beach, right?" he asked eagerly.

Casey chuckled. "Theoretically, yes. But inside city limits with tourists all over -- oh, hell. Cory, when do these seminars start?"

"At two. Like in forty minutes." He laughed. "Here's one I don't need -- 'Looking Your Best'."

"Forget this one", Casey advised, reading over his friend's shoulder. "'Closing the Deal'. That'll be about how to spin things to get the customer to agree. You don't do that."

"Your way's better", Jaimi affirmed. "I like this: 'Sponsoring New Sales People'."

"'Web sales -- your 24-hour Assistant'", Casey read. That's another good one. Cory, pick. I want to know where you'll be -- Jaimi and I are going to go hunt for a place he can get naked."

"Web sales", Cory chose. "Maybe twice through."

"Kool -- we'll catch up with you."



Casey slid in beside Cory. "You'll never believe this", he whispered. He knew Cory wouldn't turn his head to answer, so he watched for the left eyebrow going up in question. "Found a place clear down at the end of the beach with lots of jumbled rocks. We bumped into two chicks there, from the University of Oregon. They were beach volleyball players. They asked what we were up to, and Jaimi said hunting for a place to get naked on the beach. They were doing the same thing! So I left Jaimi with them and came back."

Cory turned slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Okay", Casey confessed, "I saw a place to climb to the road, right from the beach, and started up. I met two guys working to put in a barrier." He grinned. "I helped, and got a reward. It was so hot -- one didn't even want to know what I was going to do, but he stood and kept fiddling with the barrier, so no one from the top could see." His voice shifted a little. "This dude chickened out -- didn't want to get blown by a guy. But he was hard and horny, so he fucked my left armpit."

Cory wrote something on his pad: Do you even ask if these guys are clean?

Casey briefly felt guilty. "Sorry, buddy -- sometimes I forget. But I've never gone wrong."

Cory wrote again: Wen confrence over U get chkd!!!!! The last two exclamation points dug in hard.

Casey took a pen from the table and reached over to Cory's pad, and wrote: U got it, bro. I ♥ U. He looked around at the room, listened a few minutes to the speaker talking about the value of your own sales website, and decided he'd be bored shitless. C U L8r -- I go swim, he wrote. He really wanted to kiss Cory on the cheek, but figured it wouldn't fly in a room full of serious people with suits and stuff, so he settled for a light punch to the shoulder.

He found himself whistling as he rounded the corner on the way to the pool. He felt good, happy, and liked it.

At the pool, he realized he had a problem -- the people here would expect a swimsuit, and he wasn't even wearing boxers. On his own, he might have just announced that he objected to wearing anything swimming on moral grounds, and the Supreme Court said it was legal -- but that would fall back on Cory. He fantasized about it for a half minute, anyway; in his mind, he joined the chick who was really churning out laps, who freaked at first but when she found out he was gay decided it was fine... then the hot guy shooting hoops with a weird ball that didn't go straight would come over to see what the deal was, and in a minute or so they'd be in the locker room... and the guy would be thirsty enough to do some six-nine, and then he'd find he liked it.... Casey adjusted his pants and shoved away the daydream.

Then he saw the pool guy. He went over to say hi, but it wasn't the same guy. He had to fix his pants again as this guy bent over to pick something up -- showing a very fine ass in a speedo that became see-through when stretched and not wet. He knew the name of the brand; they were low-cut, more elastic than a speedo -- and thin enough to almost give head through.

"Hey, stud", he called, ordering his hand to not reach out and caress that butt. "Any suits in the lost and found? I forgot to bring one."

Every square inch of skin flexed and flowed as the kid turned. Casey doubted there was more than five percent body fat on the guy -- no, less than four, he revised, examining the firm thighs. The ass stayed tight as the kid straightened -- no fat there, either. Casey cheered inside as the kid did a full scan, face to toes to face, with a flicker back lower. "Hey. I'm Steve. I'm really not supposed to loan stuff."

"I guess I'll have to swim naked", Casey suggested, unbuttoning his jeans, then starting on his shirt.

Steve looked amused, not alarmed. "Yeah, well, that would get you thrown out and me fired. I can't afford that -- I need the next two weeks' salary to go back to school."

Casey got daring. "You swim for a college? You look good!" With the last phrase, he reached out and stroked Steve's abs, then right shoulder.

"I'm an alternate -- I do distance. And I love water polo." He reached over and squeezed Casey's waist with both hands. "Thirty?" he guessed.

"I can fit", Casey assured him, "but an inch more would be better." Steve chewed his lower lip. "Look", Casey continued, "I can make it worth it." He ran his tongue slowly around his lips, stuck it out, and sucked it in.

Steve chuckled. "Yeah. If you can fit in a thirty, I've got an old one of mine back here. It's got a hole on the right hip." He grinned. "If it's tight, I can help pack you in."

Casey wanted to groan. Steve glanced left, then right, and afterwards patted the front of his own suit, which showed contents longer than a minute before. Then Casey did groan. "Okay, come on", Steve ordered. Casey went.

Steve helped get Casey's pants off. When Casey's cock swung free, nearly upright, Steve grabbed it. "Let's see if it fits in a thirty", he said. Taking a step closer, he stood on tiptoes and slid Casey's erection up inside his speedo with his own. "Fits nice", he whispered. "God, I need this!" he declared three seconds later, peeled his suit off -- leaving it hanging on Casey's shaft -- and dropped to his knees.

All Casey could think of was it wasn't how things were supposed to go. But he finished shedding his own clothes -- shirt and tee -- and then proceeded to give Steve a scalp massage. He came just as he was starting the kid's neck.

Steve stayed on his knees, breathing hard. Casey thought he was trembling, so he took an arm and pulled his momentary sex buddy to his feet. Steve slipped right into a hug, so Casey obliged. After a half minute or more Steve let go. He looked a bit ashamed, but a lot more relaxed. Finally his eyes met Casey's. "Dude, I have a boyfriend at college. I -- gawd, it's been hard this summer! I haven't touched anyone till you." He took a deep breath. "I was starting to almost put moves on high school friends. Now, maybe...." He let out a big whoosh of air. "Now maybe I can make it."

Casey reached for Steve's half-limp dick, but Steve dodged. "Sorry", the kid told him, "but that's reserved for Alan. I promised I'd save it for six weeks before we see each other." He flashed a grin. "That's supposed to be all a guy can hold in his balls, I guess."

"How about that suit, then?" Casey asked, disappointed. "I really do want to swim."



The banquet was packed. The food was incredible. When dessert time rolled around, it was the guy who'd taught Cory's seminar about recruiting new sales people who stepped up to the microphone.

"While you finish putting down the last of the calories you'll need for the next week, I'm supposed to entertain you", he began. "But I'm not sure how well that will work. See, my mind is blown by just how good some of the quality people here are. I've been impressed by everyone today, by dedication and ingenuity -- and of course by the ability to make a sales pitch that will result in the best of applause... a check." He paused. "Preferably a big check, of course." That brought light laughter. A joke followed, then some comments on the seriousness of sales.... "Internet, stores -- and us. We're part of the lifestream of America, connecting people with products they need or desire."

"Yadda yadda yadda", Jaimi muttered. "This would be killing me if I hadn't gotten laid today." His face went dreamy. "I got to do both of those chicks!' he reported. "Some of their friends showed up with a ball and net, and we played naked volleyball. I slammed into Lisa once, and she helped me up -- except she grabbed my dick, not my hand. Then she's all, 'I have a nice place you can put that, later.' And after I did her, Amy -- her friend -- said she'd thought I was gay, and I said I do like to six-nine with my buddies, and she says, 'I've never fucked a guy who sucks guys -- my turn!" He released a big sigh and looked blissful. "If we're here tomorrow, she wants a threesome with me and you, Case."

"You do her and suck me -- or I can fuck you while you lick her or something. No more", Casey said emphatically.

The speaker got serious once everyone was cutting into the cake, which arrived flaming and oozing chocolate. "Okay, folks -- it's results time. You all know we hold contests to see who's good, because the really good people don't always get a rich territory. So money isn't the total word.
"But it is the final word: from the ten finalists our of the skills competition, prizes will go by sales for the last quarter. So, in tenth place...."

Cory tuned out except for the prizes. He figured he'd be third, maybe. An outdoor grill that could use gas or charcoal, a set of water skis, a big flat-screen TV, a set of Ridgid cordless tools for the home, a set of tires for a vehicle.... He was half dozing as third came and went. A jab from Casey's elbow jolted him awake and alert. "... Linda Nolan", the speaker was saying, "Come on up! You've won" -- he paused while she drew from the bronze Al Capone hat he held out -- "a complete kitchen makeover! You pick the people, you decide what it needs -- the only rule is you have to stay within the existing walls, unless a contractor says it needs to be larger." Cory's mouth dropped -- that was spendy! And he hadn't been called yet!

"Well, now, let's see. Is the owner of an old beatup Dodge pickup with a battered canopy, license plate KCB-616, here?" Cory was puzzled, but stood. The speaker grinned. "Cory Kinsinger, there's nothing wrong with that vehicle that a brand new one won't fix! Come on up!" Casey and Jaimi both whooped. Casey gave Cory a push to get him started.

"We've got something different here, folks", the speaker declared. "Three of the founders have offered a prize category all by itself, every year, but it's never been tapped." He tapped a small cage with what looked like business cards in it. "Until now", he stated, looking at, and extending a hand toward, Casey. "It's been claimed in other regions, but never before in the Pacific Northwest. Cory, come on up -- the stairs are--" He broke off, startled. Cory had gotten an image of how Casey would do this, and with two running strides and a leap, touching his right hand to the stage edge for balance, he landed on the platform. All the young people in the room cheered.

"Cory, you look surprised to be here. Do you have any idea why you qualify for a special prize?"

He knew he should be able to make a sensible guess. but with hundreds, maybe thousands of people looking at him, and all the bright lights, Cory couldn't. "Um, the number of miles I've driven just to stay alive?" he tried, figuring a joke couldn't hurt.

"Actually, we don't track those. What the company does track, Cory, is sales. And that group of founders set a mark, and if anyone passes it, there's a special prize." He gazed around the ballroom, quiet now as all desserts were finished. "That mark is a quarter of a million dollars, in a quarter. Others have come close before, but you passed it. In fact" -- he paused for effect -- "You did it in the last month!" Casey was first on his feet, clapping, but it became a standing ovation as fast as a wave of humans pushing back chairs and standing could sweep across the room.

The emcee had to wave for quiet. Cory stood in shock, watching in disbelief as the small wheel cage was swung over to him. "Crank it three times, and pull a card!"

"Seven's my lucky number", Cory responded, and felt stupid, but the emcee laughed. "Then crank it seven times, and pull a card!" Someone in the crowd started chanting, "Crank! Crank! Crank!", and it caught on.

"It's a VISA card", Cory said, puzzled. "I don't get it."

"You do get it -- that's the point", the emcee disagreed. "It's number seven -- your lucky number!" Let's see -- number seven is an RV of your choice!"

Cory fainted.

 

[Kyanimal]

RV at a nude beach!

How many horny studs, and squealing, athletic, college chicks, can you get into a queen sized 'bunk'?

Keep smilin'!!
Chaz

 

[DonQuixote]

Kuli,
This is a BLAST from the PAST!

I knew it was back there, but I didn't know if you'd return to it, or not.

That was one helluva prize.
Gas costs go up, but motel bills just went way down - plus the storage, and the overnight possibilities!

Thanks for the update on our guys!