Melissas Corporate Cuckold

After a long day of Zoom meetings, Michael sat down at his desk. The large glass windows overlooked Chicago's River North. The icy Winter winds blew across the concrete pathways, busy men and women walked across. Cars zoomed by.

Michael wore a navy brushed wool Brooks Brothers suit. A stiff, starched white shirt and a green Vineyard Vines tie with festive small sailboats. His dark brown shell dress shoes gave way to sheer black "socks." In lieu of a belt, black suspenders clipped onto his pants. On his wrist, a steel Swiss sports watch. If one looked too closely at Michael's pants, they would see an odd outline from the back. If they focused a bit too closely on his thighs, they would see two bands of material on each upper thigh. Michael's job involved words like VP, compliance, legal, protocols, and the like. Words that his new secret life made him too intoxicated with lust to recall or focus on.

He got up from his tufted leather chair. His trousers exhibited some tenting as he walked over to draw his blinds and ensure his bolt lock pointed to the left.

He sat down at his desk. The two monitors were put into sleep mode. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a separate laptop. He powered it on, and plugged in the USB wifi stick.

Michael undid his buckle and unbuttoned his suit slacks. Underneath, a red thong was seen. He nervously re checked his locks and blinds. He slid his pants further down. The welts of sheer black thigh highs were seen. Michael was not wearing socks after all. The welt was inscribed, "Calzedonia."

All day he had had to suffer through meetings and forms and emails, unable to do the one thing he was wanting to do since last night, when his wife's primal moans infiltrated his ears as he listened from the closet.

-- Last night --

Michael heard a softening of his wife's voice give way into passionate kissing. The cracked closet barn door allowed a slight view into the romantic scene. A blonde woman was in bed. Her skirt and black pumps lay at the foot of the bed, hinting at the corporate attorney's daily wear. A black alligator purse was knocked over. She wore a matching green lingerie set with black thigh high stockings. His wife's blonde curtain bangs brushed against Sir's brown haired beard. She tussled with his collar, loosening his tie. Sir's trousers were at his knees. His large, muscular arms grabbed Melissa's low back as he pulled her into him, with a magnetic strength.

"Oh god! Oh god! Please keep going. Baby. Please. I need you so bad. I haven't had a real man in weeks.

His wife's eyes showed a primal hunger that was missing in their date nights. At this point, she would do anything to keep going. As Sir broke their kiss, Melissa's face turned into a pathetic whimpering.

"Slut, turn around."

"yes sir."

The bed creaked, the expensive cedar beams somehow inexplicably turning into soft styrofoam as his wife was thrown from the edge of the bed roughly into the headboard.

"Get your slutty ass up in the air. I told you to have my drink made when I got here off the flight. Why wasn't it done?"

Slap. Melissa whimpered.

Michael gulped. He had come home later than expected. A Knob Creek 12 with large ice cube had not been sitting in the foyer by 8pm as instructed.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I thought it was done. I don't know what happ-"

Slap.

Michael heard another moan as Sir's hand contacted Melissa's buttock. Melissa hated being spanked, he thought...

After a few more hand slaps, Sir reached down to his trousers. Michael furred his brow. Was he leaving?

The man's strong forearms reached for his golden belt buckle, with which he quickly pulled the entire brown leather belt from the pants. He then wrapped half the belt around his palm.

Michael gulped.

"Slut, count."

"Oh god, I love when you do this."

Michael's gut sank into a puddle. Melissa hated being spanked. She said it reminded her too much of the "old days." Had they done this before? How often did Sir spank melissa? And did she... like it?

"You know what to do."

They definitely had done this before. When?? Vail? Aspen? New York??

Sir's arm reached toward the ceiling, and the belt came down on Melissa's ass in a loud fury.

"One, Thank you Sir."

Michael's cock was rock hard against his red panties. She had to count??? His wife would never obey him like this...

Whoosh!

"Two, thank you sir."

Whoosh!

"Three, thank you sir."

Whoosh!

"Fou-- Melissa's moan interrupted her count."

"Slut, did I ask you to interrupt my instructions?"

At this point, he noticed Melissa had begun grinding on Sir's hand. He could not see where Sir's fingers went. By her gyrations, he could guess what was happening. God, did she like this that much? How come she never let him spank her?

Whoosh!

"One, thank you sir."

They eventually got to ten, before he put the belt down. The gyrations continued. Sir's right hand remained inside his wife.

"OHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"

Melissa's moaning reached a crescendo, and she fell over sideways as her evident orgasm rocked her world.

Sir sunk back into the bed. He grabbed Melissa and gently took her into his arms. He kissed the back of her blonde locks.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too Mel. I haven't even fucked you yet, and it's already 9. What are we going to do with you?"

"Michael forgot your drink."

Michael's puddled stomach sunk even lower.

Sir coughed, beckoning Michael from the closet.

Michael got out of the closet.

His wife, her soft submissive demeanor returning to her usual icy glare, coughed again. Michael, understanding the command, got to his knees and started crawling across his massive bedroom.

Once he got to the edge of the bed, he saw Master's black dress shoes and suit pants. Covered by them, he faintly saw Melissa's stockinged feet.

This felt like a small reminder of Sir's power over his wife. She never wore stockings for him.. "They're too itchy." These appeared to be fully fashioned.

Purposefully avoiding using his adult name, sir asked: "Mikey, why was my drink not ready when I got here? Was my text not clear?
"

Melissa's icy stare combined with this direct question was a powerful reminder of his place.

"I- I had a mee- zoom, there was traff"

"Shut the fuck up."

"yes sir." Michael looked down.

"Go fix your mistake. You are to knock on this door at 11 while we decide your punishment."

"yes sir."

Michael remained on his knees and crawled to the kitchen. He shut the door behind him. As he closed it, he heard rustling as the swish of stockings moved on the bed. He heard a gruff voice say something and then heard his wife giggle. As Michael uncorked the whiskey bottle, he heard a faint moan.

In a few minutes, his wife's moans had turned into full screams.

"OHHH!!! OHHH!!!! RICHARD!!!! THERE! YES! THERE! PLEASE OH GOD YOU'RE SO GOOD YOU KNOW I NEED THIS!"

Michael checked his Day-date. 10:20PM. It didn't sound like there was much discussion.

"SLAP ME. I NEED IT."

Slap.

How was he even hearing his wife in the bedroom while he was in the kitchen? When they had sex she would only utter brief moans under her breath.

Around 10:30 the moans died down and the bed stopped creaking.

Around 10:59, the room was quiet. He didn't know if they were sleeping.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Come in! *giggle*" Melissa said.

Michael, glass in hand, sank to his knees as he entered the room. He went over to the bed.

Melissa looked him in the face. This was the first time he had seen her up close. Her breath smelled of semen. Her blonde hair was matted, unkempt, and the ends showed clumping where it had been grabbed. Her mascara had run down both eyes. Her red lipstick was smudged across both cheeks. She had her work pearls on. Her green lace bra had been reworn, one strap over her shoulder. She had matching green panties, a mature full cut with some lace. She had one stocking on the left leg, with lots of laddering along the thigh and knee. Where was her other stocking?

"We have decided on a punishment for you."

"yes, babe."

Richard cleared his throat.

"yes, ma'am."

"yes ma'am" Michael repeated. Melissa giggled. She loved seeing her hubby like this.

"You are going to get slapped by Mel twenty times. You will thank her for each one. You will then go sleep on the living room couch while I fuck your wife again. And maybe again. In the morning, you are to wake her up with a full body worship. She will give you some instructions for how your Friday will go."

"yes sir."

"Now go!"

Michael crawled away. He heard the sounds of kissing and passion as he exited the master bedroom. It was hard to sleep that night. The house was filled with Melissa's sounds of love and Sir's sounds of pure primal domination. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep, ears still full of flesh meeting flesh. He didn't need an alarm. His eyes awakened at 6am to the sound of the front door slamming shut. Cold air had rushed in. He went into his bedroom (his? hers? theirs?) and saw his wife sleeping under the covers. As he flipped over the duvet, one stocking went flying. There it was. Melissa was still wearing the other one.

He turned his wife over, her brown eyes already open. She looked so happy. Melissa's lips met his as they passionately reclaimed the distance between them. Michael then broke their embrace and took his lips down to her feet for some morning worship. A few minutes later, her thighs. Eventually, her pussy. He lapped at his wife, tasting the night's routine. She giggled and sighed and moaned. Melissa quickly drifted to another orgasm. This woke her up, and she left for the shower. Time to get ready for work. While his wife showered, Michael looked in the hamper. He saw both black stockings. Grabbing one, he inhaled his wife's aroma from the fully fashioned soles. HIs erection was straining, no orgasm in the past week. Melissa stuck her head out the shower and smiled, "wanna join?"

Michael entered the shower, ready to cum.

Some time later, it was closer to 9. Today would be a late start. Melissa was wearing a cream blouse, black pencil skirt, and black Jimmy Choo 4" pumps. She had on a diamond tennis bracelet and diamond necklace. A silver Jubilee bracelet Rolex on her right wrist. A specific outfit choice caught his eye. Black smoky pantyhose. Melissa giggled. "He likes me to wear them." She had never worn them for Michael, "too itchy."

Melissa put on her floor length camel coat, sunglasses, scarf, and exited the front door.

Michael finished getting dressed. He decided to put on his wife's stockings from last night. They were somewhat damp in the soles.

Today would be painful. His cock strained.