Author: Elizabeth Heath
Category: Other
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Evie was squeezing his hand back, trying to express her love for him even while she was violated by this other man. She didn't look at her husband, though. Just demurely gazed downward.
Adriano slapped her on the butt and withdrew, and David found himself hoping it was all over. That was long enough, wasn't it? It hadn't really sounded as though he'd come, but perhaps he was the silent type.
But he wasn't done.
He nudged Evie aside and now lay down on the bed, on his back. Evie looked suddenly panicked, but she complied with him as he reached for her hips, urging her to straddle him, to impale herself on his cock.
There was no holding onto her hand now, as she crouched over their landlord's son. Adriano was actually holding her butt, his hands forming a seat for her, where she actually sat still, and underneath Adriano was the one doing all the work in order to continue fucking her.
David thought it clear the guy spent a fair amount of time in the gym.
He turned away again, and now absently thumbed through the bills, feeling like Judas handling his thirty pieces of silver. 20... 40... 60... 80...
Surprise grew through him, intensifying the underlying horror that had become just a constant throbbing inside him, and now turned white-hot once again. The money was not enough. Adriano had given them just one month's rent.
He turned, but it was too late to say anything.
Evie and Adriano were now lying on their sides, Adriano lying behind her sliding his glistening cock into her pussy while holding up her right leg, apparently so that David could see everything.
Evie reached over to give him her hand again, and she actually smiled. David returned her smile, trying to keep her upbeat.
Then she closed her eyes and moaned as Adriano began to pound her again, rocking her entire body with the force of his penetration. David was unable to turn away from the sight of that obscene phallus plunging into his wife's pussy - staring like a motorist driving by a shocking accident on the road.
Evie kept her eyes closed, appearing to focus on breathing.
After an age, Adriano knelt up, holding her leg over his shoulder as he continued to pump his cock into her little pink pussy. Was it never going to end?
Then, at last, he was pulling his cock out of her, pulling her leg over so her thighs parted over his, and he was groaning as his come spurted over her chest, hitting her face, her breasts, dribbling over her stomach.
Evie was grinning, laughing even. It wasn't something she did with David. Messy, dirty, smeared all over her. She just giggled.
Perhaps it was shock.
David stroked her hand, reassuring her, but she just lay where she was, not moving, perhaps unsure what to do now Adriano pulled himself away, so casual, reaching for his clothes.
David said: "There's only one month's rent here."
Evie suddenly looked at her husband, afraid.
Perhaps it just stressed the point that what had just happened had happened for money, but David felt there was never going to be a good time to bring it up. He had to bring it up now.
Doing up the belt on his jeans, Adriano beamed: "And it was worth every penny, my friend."
"We agreed two months."
Adriano chuckled, "I could give you two months - but you'd only have to give it back to pay the rent, no?"
It was a harsh truth.
"This way, you have another month, and maybe some spending money too, right?" said their landlord's son with a wicked grin. "Maybe you'll invite me back next month, huh? We'll have some more good times."
David groaned inwardly. God, and what did happen if it came to next month, and neither of them still had jobs? The President wasn't going to turn the economy round in just four weeks, that was for sure.
"Here," Adriano said once he'd pulled his t-shirt back on, and retrieved another bill, passing it over to a horrified Evie.
A hundred.
"Call it a tip - you are certainly worth it," Adriano smiled magnanimously.
Their lord and master.
Evie looked so awkward, uncomfortable as she took it from him, but a hundred was a hundred. She stood, and David stood, but they left Adriano to find his own way out.
On their own once again once the front door slammed, Evie stepped back to show him the other man's come smeared all over her, like he needed reminding.
"That wasn't so bad, sweetie," she said quietly. "For 20 minutes in bed."
"For 20 minutes - "
David looked at his watch - it was true. God, it felt as though at least an hour or two had passed since he'd opened the door for Adriano. But the guy had come and gone in substantially less than half an hour.
David sighed, "How was it for you?"
She shrugged, flicking some of her hair out of her sticky face, "It was okay. He's not as big as you... where it counts. It felt okay. I closed my eyes and thought of you."
Her hands came down to his pants now, and she gasped as she felt his massive hardness.
"You liked watching me?" she asked.
David blushed, but he found a sudden overwhelming urge to keep his pain to himself, to avoid any suggestion that her actions and his own consent may have made him feel so terrible.
He said simply: "You're a sexy girl, Evie, even with another man."
She laughed, "You're a strange one, David, you know that?"
And she reached to pull off his shirt, and then was fumbling with his belt.
"You want me to join you in the shower?" he asked, as she now forced his pants down to the floor.
"I want you to finish me off - in the shower or wherever," she said, her voice husky with desire.
David felt a little tickle of unbridled lust flicker through him at the sudden thought of fucking his wife right now, perhaps even there where she'd just been with another man, sliding his chest over hers, while she was still sticky with the filthy emissions of their landlord's son.
He picked her up bodily, making her squeal in delight as he carried her two steps, laid her out on the bed.
"Oh David..."
He felt her stretching around his cock as he fed it inside her hot, soaking pussy, as though she'd become accustomed to having a smaller man within her. It made it feel slightly different from normal, but good.
Was he truly revolting to be so aroused now at the thought his beautiful bride had just slept with another man?
"What if we don't get jobs before next month, David?"
He kissed her mouth as he pressed his body to hers, thrusting his charged manhood into her. He said: "Don't worry, we'll be okay. I love you, right?"
"And I love you."
He smiled, trying to ignore the feeling of pure chaos inside him, and added: "It just might be a good idea for us to try and, at least, be friends with Adriano for a while."
The End.
Sleeper
On his way back into the building Vincent nods to Jeff, the security guard plowing his way through an over-filled sub, as if to say: hey, it's only me, as always this time of night, no need to extricate yourself from that mountain of beef and salami.
As ever, the guard ignores or misinterprets the gesture. By the time he reaches the barrier the man is up - surprisingly fleet of foot for someone so portly and gray - waiting for Vincent to remove his jacket and put it through the metal detector along with his little box of Chinese takeout.
Vincent sighs inwardly, thinking: Really? I'm a threat to this place?
Employees as well as visitors have their belongings scanned at RCE Energy, ever since a disgruntled marketing exec passed comment concerning his being passed over for promotion by emptying a handgun into the third-floor photocopier.
That photocopier had always been asking for it, though. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time. In recent years, though, there had been a rise in attempted invasions. Protestors, objecting to the Corporation's take on sustainable energy, running into the building armed with eggs, paint, other things not so pleasant.
So Vincent doesn't mak
e any comment to Jeff the security guard, just complies as usual. Vincent's not a security man, but he actually feels some sense of solidarity with the guy ever since the CEO came down to his office one night after hours, asking him to carry out a special intelligence project.
"The major threat's not people throwing shit at our building, Vincent," the man had said. "This is the information age."
Vincent had accepted the job, of course. The kudos of a personal visit from Mr Stanton had been far too much to turn down. His constant dedication and extensive record of overtime had finally been noticed, and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity now.
He probably wouldn't know what to do if he ever did find a mole, of course. Vincent's not in corporate intelligence - Stanton no longer trusts the folks in corporate intelligence - he's just a lonely soul who doesn't have a life, coming back to the office with a little box from Wong's, just long enough after everyone's gone home so they can't see he's a sad workaholic.
Sad that he gets a little thrill when the elevator doors slide open to confirm that the 33rd floor is now empty.
Sad that when he reaches the fake walnut door to his office, he's buzzed to have some time to himself to get ahead on his work.
Sad that there's nothing for him at home but a dark little hole of an apartment.
He twists the doorknob and does a dorky little 360 as he slips inside, easing the door shut so that the latch clicks, sealing him inside his quiet sanctuary of gray, black and chrome.
When he turns around again, Cassandra Mayer is right there, lying there on his desk, waiting for him, without a stitch on.
"Hi, Vincent."
*
Vincent drops his box of sweet-and-sour, eyes wide, jaw dropping to the floor. The shapely brunette is lying on her side, propped on one elbow, her long hair draped over a shoulder to hide her breasts, the only part of her that is in any way concealed.
To say it's a shock would be putting it mild.
He's never even seen the corporation's senior planning policy officer in casual clothes before, let alone stark naked, sprawling across his desk. And yet the very first wince of embarrassment that passes over his face is from realizing his beautiful, startlingly nude colleague just bore witness to his dorky little 360 as he entered the room.
It takes a moment before it begins to sink in that his disturbingly bare colleague is lying on his desk, waiting for him to react.
"C-C-Cassandra..." he stammers, wishing to the high heavens he could somehow channel Cary Grant just now.
Just an ounce of cool, suave calm would be worth the world.
Cassandra smiles as she traces a hand down the elegant curves of her body, from breasts to thighs, as though guiding his startled eyes to take in what he clearly can't quite believe is in front of him.
The warm peachy glow of her skin is so out of place in the coldness of the office with its black leather, cool steel and stark white decor. God, he can even see a little smudge of dark hair pointing the way to the delights concealed between her thighs.
"Why don't you close the door and come over here?" she says, seeming incredibly calm.
He always thought she was pretty, but she'd always played it down. Frumpy suits, little if any make-up, glasses that did not make best use of the angles of her face. Right now, she's made up like a supermodel, dressed down to the maximum, there's no sign of any deficiencies in her eyesight.
Vincent steps forward, gulping a huge lungful of air as a mix of emotions washes through him. The thrill of seeing Cassandra like that, so stunning against the sober backdrop of his office, offset by a sudden heart-stopping realization that she is the one he's been hunting.
She is the mole.
The air conditioning comes on with a cough and a grunt, breaking him out of his thoughts.
"What's this about, Cassandra?"
He tries to add a note of strength to his voice, if anything to counter the tremor he knows is in there. It's not an entirely successful attempt. He takes a couple of steps forward, involuntarily. Though he's a little horrified at what she's done, he's drawn by her beauty, can't resist.
"It's about you, Vincent," she says, teasing a finger or two through her hair, then on down her breathtakingly flat stomach, pointing the way to the center of her womanhood. "It's about you, and me."
He can detect the slight sweetness in the air from her perfume, even above the clinical corporate cleanliness of the office. His whole body is pulsating with desire, how could it not? His cock swelling inside his pants, as good as a devil sitting on his shoulder telling him to ignore the facts that have recently come to light in this case.
"Come here," she says, tilting her hips and then with just a little movement, turning to lie on her front, revealing a glimpse of her pert derriere to him, as she gives him a come-hither flick of the fingers.
He takes another couple of paces forward, and she smiles again with feigned innocence. As if to say, I'm just a silly girl who couldn't resist your charms, Vincent.
But Vincent doesn't believe he has charms. What he does believe is that he has information that puts Cassandra at risk.
"How did you find out I knew?" he asks her.
He trembles a little, and tries to hide it. He'd be nervous at the best of times if ever a beautiful woman like this offered herself to him, but right now he's terrified someone will find them, assume this has been going on a while.
He'd lose his job, his career.
When all this came out, about Cassandra stealing secrets, they would assume he was in on the job. Maybe that's what all this is about. She's lying here on his desk, naked, like a siren to lure him in, to be smashed on the rocks.
But what beauty.
He's dazzled, a deer in the headlamps. He's not even thinking about resisting her, though he is wondering how far she will go before somebody leaps out of a closet with a camera, to gather evidence and trap him.
"Never mind all that," she breathes, and reaches for his belt.
He's a little surprised he's already within her grasp. Hardly noticed how close he'd gotten to her. Her hand touches down just below his buckle, and then sweeps over the hardness that's almost bursting out of his pants.
"Mmm..." she coos, and looks up at him with mischief in her smile and fire in her big brown eyes.
"You don't have to do this, Cassandra," he says softly, but he doesn't stop her unzipping his fly, reaching inside his pants to grab his rock-hard shaft, springing it free into the open air.
"You want me to, though, don't you?"
There's something obscene about his exposed cock clasped in her hand, just inches from her pretty face, her full lips, as though it's some kind of microphone and this is just another session of office karaoke. It seems so wrong, his own swollen member out in the open air, held by this oh-so attractive young woman.
But she's not looking at it with revulsion - quite the opposite, in fact. She responds as though it is the finest delicacy.
Then Cassandra, of all people, has his cock inside her mouth.
Her eyes close in bliss, as her mouth sucks gently at the tip and her hand begins to squeeze his shaft, then slowly pump him. The heat encircling his cock is exquisite. Vincent is a little surprised that the person with a camera hasn't jumped out of the closet yet. He's more than a little surprised that someone as respectable as Cassandra Mayer, the youngest senior policy officer in the Department's history, has her lips around his engorged shaft.
That she'd go this far just to stop him exposing her.
She tilts her head, looks up at him as she withdraws the tip of his cock from her mouth, and then she's smiling broadly at him, as though this is the most wonderful thing in the world. She bites her lip and slowly pumps him a little, before her tongue emerges and she's licking him in long, sensual strokes, releasing little moans of pleasure apparently at what he is allowing her to do.
She's exploring him, and he can see her feet gently rubbing against each other and against her calves, as she focusses on his pleasur
e.
He just can't understand why she's doing this, why she's making it appear that she's enjoying this. She's the smartest person he knows - in their dealings, she's always a few thoughts ahead of everyone else, she's always the one with a grasp on the situation, and the best course of action. Why does Cassandra feel she needs to seduce him like this?
Why does she think he's dangerous enough that she has to distract him with her body?
He's in no position to object, however.
She licks up from the base to the tip of his cock, then takes it back inside her mouth, her head bobbing down impaled by his hardness. She tucks a strand of her hair behind an ear, then presses forward, putting everything into the motion of her head sinking down his cock, time after time.
Tentatively, a little unsure of where he should put his hands in such a situation, he touches her face, caresses her cheek, runs a hair through her dark, silky hair.
He places his palms on her head as she continues the motion on his shaft, and it's almost as though he's taking control. Cassandra moans quietly in encouragement, and tilts her head up again to smile at him, accepting his touch, urging him on.
Now he holds her more firmly, and she moans again, louder, encouraging him. He holds her head firm, and stirs his hips a little, and she's coaxing on further, so that he is now controlling the motion, the speed, the force of his swollen head inside her burning wet mouth.
Vincent, bashful Vincent, shy and retiring Vincent, Vincent the corporate geek, is fucking the face of the most beautiful girl at the company.
*
Oh, he'd attracted the passing attentions of female colleagues before a couple of times, at Christmas parties gone by, or other celebrations or corporate outings. He wasn't an ugly guy. But he'd always found it somehow tacky, lacking class. He didn't want to be seen in that way by his colleagues.
Cassandra is, and always was, on a whole other scale of temptation. Still, what a weak person he turned out to be.
The pretty brunette now slips him out of her mouth, and she's reaching up, pulling his head down to kiss her lips. It seems like forever since he kissed anyone, in fact he can't even work out how many years it was since it last happened. But it feels natural with Cassandra, taking her lips inside his for the first time, touching his tongue gently inside her mouth as she responds a little more vigorously.