Cuckold Consequences Ch 02

Chapter 2

I stared blankly at the whiteboard wall as if it was an endless void. Sticky notes and a million different little multicolored dry erase notes, arrows and acronyms and examples tried to span that vast space. Usually, it would all make sense to me. My mind would take the mess and organize it, and then from that mess I'd translate it onto my computer, ironing out all the bumps and bugs so that the proposed project would flow and be user friendly. But my head couldn't come down from the clouds, or rather up from the depths of the hell, I felt I was in.

Gwen was on the other side of the glass conference table, leaning on it with her hands and talking fast and technical with Scary Carrie. My eyes drifted to Gwen's blouse, one of the top buttons was undone and I could see the slope of her cleavage. It was hard not to look. There was evidence of lace, purple by the looks, that denoted her bra holding those amazing breasts. I had to readjust in my seat, trying to be discreet, but because the conference table was glass it was hard to be inconspicuous.

Scary Carrie had her hands in the air, a red Expo marker in one hand and the cap placed on her middle finger on the other hand. The woman had earned her nickname, and unlike some people, she owned it. She'd even gotten some stickers printed up and slapped them on her laptop and other accessories that declared "Property of Scary Carrie. Don't make me go King on your ass." She had a short bob of dyed white hair and shocking pink eyeshadow that made her grey eyes pop. Her figure was slim but with curves like rolling hills that swayed in all the right ways when she was rushing down the stairs. She refused to take the elevator, saying she had to stay in shape and going to the gym wasn't her thing. Her black sweater and black jeans fit nicely and though they were fairly simple, they had the air of sophistication like some aristocrat.

I watched the two bicker over the placement of buttons, how they would lead a customer/user through the experience to get them to the end goal of the site we were working on. It didn't really matter ultimately what the details were, it was always the same. Get the user to become a paying customer. Everything had to work towards that one goal. And then from there, make sure that they were happy with the experience and could get where they needed to go, to give the client more of their money.

Next to me, Jami had their headphones on, a large pair of neon green Bose, their laptop open and clicking around other sites at lightning speed, checking out the competition and other examples that we were trying to emulate. Their hair was cut tom-boyish short and was a deep nut brown that had a natural shine to it that most of the girls at the company envied. They tapped at their little gold nose ring, a little tick they had when they were deep in thought. I wasn't sure if they were actually listening to something or just keeping their headphones on to stay out of the conversation. They wore an old acid washed jean jacket, shredded up pink jeans and a t-shirt with some sort of pop-tart cat throwing up a rainbow. Jami always pushed the bounds of the dress code.

I sat back and looked up at the ceiling, hands scratching at my head as I tried to pull myself up out of this horrible funk. But how was I supposed to do that? My marriage was all but over. I couldn't shake the feeling, the thoughts, that it had all just come crashing down. But that didn't seem right either. I hadn't talked to Julie about any of this. Maybe, if I just went up to her and sat down and had a heart to heart we could work it all out. Maybe she'd understand and tell Devon to take a hike.

But then the vision of her being pounded into our bed. Screaming bloody murder as she was forced to have orgasm after orgasm. That look in her eyes of lust and desire and complete and utter surrender was undeniable. She was lost in this world we'd stepped into. One conversation wasn't going to end it.

A sharp whistle made me jump and nearly fall back in my chair. I grabbed hold of the table and kept myself from tumbling over and looked at Gwen, standing with her arms under her breasts and giving me a raised eyebrow. "Earth to Tom. Did you hear my question?"

I leaned forward and pushed my laptop away from me so I could rest my elbows on the table. "Nope." There was no point in trying to fake it. I hadn't heard a thing they were saying.

Gwen sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with a very loud and over the top sigh. "Well, I guess I can't blame you. I think we've just hit a wall." She turned on her heel to look at the whiteboard. Her skirt was defining her posterior really well.

I put my face in my hands. I needed to stop objectifying my Team Lead and get laid or something. My brain was already fogging over again with that obstructing feeling men got when they had a buildup of arousal that they hadn't been able to release. My little snap off this morning hadn't been enough, it seemed.

"Okay." Gwen turned back, hands on her hips. "Let's take a break. Go... I don't know, get some more coffee and a snack. Take a walk. Do something to get our minds off this for a while and come back in twenty." She looked at her smartwatch. "Yeah. Twenty. Shoo, shoo." She waved her hands at us.

Jami looked up from their laptop and reached for their large boba that was sitting on the table. They weren't going anywhere, it seemed. Though, they did migrate away from looking at websites to starting up some online game that I couldn't for the life of me figure out.

I pushed myself up and headed for the glass door. Every conference room was essentially a glass box, putting everyone on display except for the one whiteboard wall where they could project powerpoints, videos, or write all over. I pushed out into the hall, hearing Gwen muttering something about changing... something. Probably still going over the project, even though she'd told us to take a break. The woman was a machine and hardly ever stopped. But damn if she wasn't good at her job and friendly to boot.

The break room was bustling with people grabbing their lunches from the fridges, getting snacks from the machines or the free ones that were put out. There was a slow hum of noise and chatter that helped keep my brain in a state of static. I grabbed another cup of coffee, probably my seventh of the day, and robotically walked out of the room towards my office. I stirred the coffee absently as I walked.

My phone buzzed. I stopped in the hall and gave a quick look around. The hall was empty. I pulled up the message from Julie.

Thought you deserved a treat.

Below the message was a selfie of Julie in a bathroom, one of her feet propped up on the countertop. She'd removed her pants and her pink, low cut thong was clinging to her pussy. Clearly defined and the smooth indent of her slit enticing.

I stared. I wanted to be titillated. Aroused. And yes, my dick did jump. How could it not? My wife was attractive. And I loved her. Fuck, did I love her. But all I could think as I stared at her flashing her panties was, did she show Devon first? Did she show him more?

I locked the phone and shoved it in my pocket and marched to my office door, wanting to just shut myself away for the twenty or so minutes I had before I had to go back into that stupid fish tank and go over which page should go where for... what was even the site for? Some energy drink or wellness product. Maybe an MLM or something. I couldn't remember. Probably not a good sign. Maybe I should just go home. At least Julie wouldn't be there and I could...

I pushed open the office door and stepped in.

Gwen froze, standing in the middle of the office with her skirt folded on the desk and a pair of dark jeans in her hand.

My eyes locked on hers for a second and then shot down to see she was wearing a pair of strappy, low back purple panties that rested high on her hips and clung to her pussy so tight they almost looked like paint. I stared at her crotch, and then my eyes bounced back up to meet her gaze.

"Um... mind at least closing the door?" She didn't look away from me as she bent down to start putting on her jeans.

In a daze, I let the door go and it closed behind me.

----

Julie finished buttoning her pants, giving another quick look towards the bathroom door, nervous someone might come in even though this restroom was on a largely deserted floor. Very few people came to this floor since Cloud Creative had restructured and renovated the building. They'd left the fourth floor as a sort of limbo for storage, random meetings, lunches, parties. It was a catchall for events and whatever else anyone could think of. As such, during the work day, it was typically empty and this bathroom, at the far end of the floor, was especially quiet and secluded.

Taking a look at herself in the mirror, she straightened her blouse and brushed back a few strands of hair from her face. Her eyes darted back to her phone sitting on the counter. Usually Tom would have texted back by now. Selfies of her underwear were always a treat for him, especially lately. They hadn't had sex in... what was it, a month? Something like that. He must have been backed up, even with all the masturbating he'd been doing watching Devon fuck her. But a hand was never a satisfactory replacement for a pussy.

She'd been sure to tease him over and over, making that desire build up so that when she finally lifted the embargo on her intimate areas, he'd be ravenous. There was a part of her that shivered just thinking of Tom grabbing her and just using her like Devon did. Of course, that wasn't her husband's style. But a girl could dream. So far he hadn't texted back. He hadn't even replied to her text this morning. He must have been really busy.

That must be it.

Julie caught her own eyes in the mirror and saw something... worry. She shook her head. There was no reason to worry. Tom loved her and she was in love with him too. Sure, their lives had changed in the last several months, but that love hadn't. Maybe it had shifted a little, from a beautiful caterpillar into a new blossoming butterfly. Devon was a cocoon that had made that transformation. Okay, so the metaphor was flawed, kinda stupid, really. But it was apt enough.

A buzz from her phone made her heart skip, and she grabbed it, hoping it was Tom texting back with some thirsty message.

It was Devon.

Of course. She'd sent him a picture too, before she'd sent her panty picture to Tom. Devon got something more intimate, she'd pulled her panties aside to show the smooth slit that was still a little sore from last night. As professional as Devon was in the workplace, he still wanted pictures throughout the day, some more chaste than others. She'd sent this one voluntarily. No request needed.

Usually her pulse quickened when Devon texted her, the anticipation of what he would want from her or what he might say or ask, but this time there was a little drop in her stomach, seeing that it was him instead of her husband. She pushed the worry away and opened the message.

Room 409. Five minutes.

It was blunt. It was short. Julie was already out the door and walking towards the office on the opposite side of the floor from the bathroom before she'd even finished reading the text.

Her heart began to race. As she marched in her heels, she kept an eye out for anyone that might be lurking on the empty floor, but it was deserted as usual so she made it to the old office without notice and slipped inside. The room was still furnished with a desk and a couch with old mauve suede upholstery. A fake plant stood in the corner and the one, tall window to the side of the door had yellowing blinds that were tightly closed. The windows at the back of the office were open but tinted against the morning sun, reflective on the outside so no one could look inside.

Julie started to undress, slipping her pants off and folding them, placing them on the empty desk. Next was her blouse, stripping down to just her sheer pink underwear and heels. She took a seat on the couch, leaned back and opened her thighs wide so her panties were plastered to her pussy. It was only a minute later that Devon came in. No knock. No sly peeking in, just barging in like it was his office.

The door clicked shut behind him and he turned to see her on the couch. Julie put on her most sultry look, hands on the inside of her thighs caressing her skin as she felt Devon's eyes scour her. As much as she enjoyed this, it also drove her crazy with nerves. What if someone decided to come to the floor? What if there was a sudden surprise party? What if? What if? But the thrill was part of the arousal and it had quickly become addictive.

Loosening his tie, Devon smiled. "Touch yourself." His voice was gruff, no nonsense. He undid his belt under the pudge of his stomach, unzipping his fly as he came closer.

Julie moved her hand to her crotch and began to rub along the sheer material covering her slit. Her breath was coming in short little gasps as she watched Devon tower over her. His pasty skin and hairy arms and scruffy face looked sweaty. The harsh overhead lights didn't do his complexion any favors. His pants fell to the floor and then his boxers quickly followed, the massive pole between his legs dangling deliciously. It was beginning to rise and harden already and Julie felt her breath hitch as her finger traced her clit inside the panties.

He pulled his tie off, eyes never leaving Julie's as she touched herself. His button down was dangling around his waist. Julie was panting as her pussy became warmer from her circular touches along her clit and folds, pressing the thin material against herself, feeling moisture soak through.

There was still a part of her that couldn't believe she was doing this. That she was so readily following this man's direction. Devon was not the sort of guy she'd ever have let touch her, not under normal circumstances. It wasn't necessarily because he looked slobish. If he'd shaved and taken just a little better care of himself, he'd have been almost a teddybear sort of cute. It was more his personality that was detestable.

Devon was arrogant. He felt like the world owed him something because of how he'd been treated in grade school and highschool and, no doubt, in college. As smart and talented as he was, he just wasn't valued by the masses and was rejected or bullied. Now that he was an adult, most of that was behind him, but he still carried that chip on his shoulder.

Every look from the man had this air of condescension. Entitlement. But that was also what was strangely attractive about him. Not at first, of course. That first night at the Christmas party, Julie had been almost disgusted with him. But seeing such a massive appendage, well... some things could be overlooked in light of a greater reward. Devon had worn her down over the next weeks and months. Encounter after encounter, starting with Tom being present and the couple having boundaries. But Devon broke each rule. Pushed them further and further into a world of depravity. He started taking Julie when Tom wasn't around. Devon would film and take pictures, sending them to Tom, to tease him. Now, they were doing things alone. And even though Julie would come home and tell Tom later, that changed too.

Julie started having sex with Devon and never telling Tom. He still didn't know about several of the things she'd done with Devon and others at his insistence. Devon had broken a conservative wall inside of Julie and the flood had come rushing in. Sexual pleasure and depravity and eroticism that she thought had only existed in stories and on websites. Devon had opened Julie's eyes to a whole new world, and she didn't want to go back to that dark and dismal life of plain sexual intercourse. She wanted to FUCK.

The look in Devon's eyes, dark brown and burning, told Julie he viewed her as a slut. Holes. A woman to be used for his own gratification. She was his. It sent chills through her and her fingers pressed harder against her clit as he came to stand directly in front of her. His cock was stiff. Leaning down, he wrapped his tie around Julie's neck and carefully tied it so that he could pull on one end and the loop would tighten, like a noose.

Julie trembled as the silk gripped her neck tightly, making her breath catch as her windpipe was constricted just a fraction.

"Pull those aside." Devon instructed, looking down at Julie's panties, holding the end of the tie in his hand like a leash.

She didn't hesitate. Her fingers pulled the soaked material aside. The smooth labia was puffing and slick with her juices, her need.

"Open." He growled, lips turning up in that telltale sneer of condescension and entitlement.

Julie pulled open her lips, showing the glittering pink of her inner sex.

Devon moves closer, his thick cock head gently pressing against the tight slick opening of her vagina, probing. Pressing, then moving back, making Julie groan as she watched his massive dick preparing to stretch her.

"Tell me you want it." He breathed the order, expecting a quick answer.

Julie looked into his eyes. "I fucking want it. I want your cock inside me. I need you to stretch my little pussy..." Her words cut off as the tie tightened around her neck. Devon slid inside her, stretching her tunnel wide as he moved smooth and firm, never stopping until he was down to the root inside her. Julie groaned like a feral animal.

"Yeah...squeeze that married pussy. Show me you love it."

"Yesyesssss oh fuck I love your cock Devon. Please! Please fuck me with it, please." She groaned, head falling back as she struggled to breath against the tie around her neck. The inner muscles of her vagina squeezed his girthy member as he held it inside. As wet and slick as she was, her lips and inner walls were gripping like a velvety vice. Devon slid back out slowly, then thrust back inside.

Julie's tits jumped in her bra with each thrust. It was forceful and direct. The sort of motion that spoke of domination and ownership. Devon owned her. Julie was his, body and mind and soul, if only for this moment.

The motion continued, in and out of her slick folds. The noise from her pussy was loud in the empty office. Echoing so crudely that Julie blushed with embarrassment. Devon was mostly silent, in control, watching her, holding the leash/tie and thrusting in steadily and rhythmically. Every time his cock bottomed out inside Julie, his balls smacked her ass, hairy and coarse, starting to irritate the skin on her cheeks. Her mons started to turn pink with his pubic hair scratching at her sensitive smooth skin.

"I fucking love it." She gasped, her pussy clenching.

"Cum on it Julie. Cum on my fucking dick you slut. I want you to feel how wide I'm stretching you. How much bigger I am than Tom. That limp dick could never make you feel like this."

The words stung. They always did. She loved the dirty, kinky sex talk. But the talk about Tom, about how he was a 'limp dick' or 'pathetic',' always itched. She loved her husband. And he was actually really good in bed. Not like Devon, of course. Devon inspired an inferno of lust and desire. Tom had been her first, and the feeling of him was... it was love. Not fucking. If she was honest, Tom had never fucked her. He'd only ever made love to her and as much as she enjoyed that, she now knew there was more to life than just the passionate intercourse of a married couple.

Devon picked up the pace. Grunting between thrusts as his balls began to fill with his thick load and slapped more firmly against Julie's ass.

"Yesyesyes like that. Please. Please fuck me, sir. Please. Oh god I'm gonna cum!" Julie was breathing hard, labored, the tie so tight around her it was nearly choking.

"Take it. Take my cock. You fucking love me, don't you. You love me fucking that slutty cunt. Stuck up bitch, always looking down on me. Now where are you? You're spreading your married legs open for my cock. Taking my cum. You're a fucking whore. My whore. Say it." He gave her cheek a slap and she gasped, tears pooling in her eyes. It wasn't hard enough that it would turn her cheek pink for too long, but it had been a surprise.