(Feel free to read the earlier installments of this series).
It's bad enough when you find out your wife was named "Blow Job Queen of Ridley High" by her fellow students but worse yet when you find out that after marrying her she continued to use her oral talents on other guys.
Heck, I had no knowledge of her oral addiction until years after we had tied the knot.
She was a cocksucker before marriage and was one of those girls who despite trying could never kick the habit. That was the case with Nancy Jean, and it led to our divorce.
Nancy Jean, I found out well after our wedding vows, must have crossed her fingers when she said she'd be true forever during out wedding ceremony. Oh, I think she probably believed it at the time, but after a while the animal urges to suck on a variety of cocks won out over the single one she was wedded too.
I attempted to make the marriage work, even after I found out about her proclivity to suck strange cock. She got a second, third, fourth and fifth chance, but couldn't change her ways.
That was then, this is now. Now is a lot different, because after our divorce Nancy Jean fell on some hard times. Those problems led her back to me, and this time I was the one with demands. She came, hat in hand, begging my secretary to let her in to see me in the office after I evaded all of her phone calls.
Actually, it was quite exciting letting my secretary listen in to Nancy Jean tell her tale of woe, and later even listen in on the intercom as Nancy Jean got down on her knees under my desk and blew me.
Ah, revenge is sweet.
Once a month Nancy Jean made a regular hour visit to my office where, after just a minute or two of exchanging pleasantries she'd perform her monthly duty...worshiping my cock. It was so exciting. Watching her blow me in the office, working my cock, began to make up for all the nights I'd come home from work and unknowingly kiss the lips that had sucked off a guy earlier in the day.
The beauty of it all was that, because of the financial bind she was in, she'd perform for me. Some days she'd be on her knees, under my desk. Others she'd lay on the desk and I'd stand next to it and fed her my cock. We'd taken a road trip, where she satisfied not only me but a lucky trucker. Oh, I'd do about anything to get off and humiliate her.
She'd swallow my cum, she'd let me cum on her face. Once, I wouldn't let her wipe off the sticky sauce, insisting she keep the mess on her face and deliver a note to my secretary. I remember Mrs. Harris stating, "Oh, hello, do you need a hanky or something for that, uh, mess?"
Nancy Jean scurried out of the office that day, right past a couple of guys walking in who had no idea what had just happened...only that the woman was walking fast past them attempting to cover her face.
I loved humiliating the woman. It was worth it, she had humiliated me for years. When she blew her soon to be husband's son at a bachelor party, I thought she'd never speak to me again. She did. When she blew a trucker at my request, she was just a horny chick. Nothing fazed her. Now after her most recent engagement ended, she was going to be starting a new life.
It was a dark Wednesday afternoon, late in the day and Nancy Jean had finished her monthly blow job and was relating that she's be moving back to Ridley Park with her parents.
"I got a job in Philly and will stay with them for a while," said my ex-wife. "Look, I'd like to continue our, uh, agreement, but I need to move back home. They need me, and I got a decent job."
She smiled at me. "But you know you could visit once in a while if you need any, uh, you know..."
It was my turn to smile. "You mean if I need my dick sucked?"
"Jon, stop that. Look, I know I'm not perfect, and I was the reason we aren't together, but you don't have to rub it in."
I told her I liked rubbing it in her face, especially cum. And my dick always loved rubbing against her.
"You are such a bad boy, I think that's why I still love you."
I shook my head...not going there.
We made arrangements to meet one last time before she left for "home". I gave her instructions on what to wear, and what I wanted. She agreed.
Two weeks later Nancy Jean arrived as promised. She was dressed as a slut, and it had to embarrass her coming into the office. We watched as she parked her car, and it took a couple minutes for her to exit. She kept looking around, trying to make sure the coast was clear. When she got out of the car it was obviously why she was moving so slowly.
Nancy Jean had on a short skirt with a white blouse. Not a schoolgirl look, but close. Her stocking tops showed when she got out of the car, as well as the garter straps which held up the nylons. Smoothing down her short skirt, Nancy Jean strode quickly toward the front door. She happened by a couple guys who stopped to watch her enter the building, shaking their heads and smiling.
When she arrived upstairs at my office Mrs. Harris had her sit, uncomfortably, across from her as she said I was on the phone. Actually, I just wanted her to sit there as my secretary made small talk with her....with the intercom left open for me to hear.
"So, you are moving back to Philadelphia, Nancy Jean?"
"Yes, got a job and will take care of my parents."
"That's nice," said Mrs. Harris. "Will you be blowing guys there too?"
You would have thought Mrs. Harris sat on a whoopee cushion.
"Well, I know that's what you do so well, I just wondered. Jon has told me how good you are at it, and, well, it's the reason you two got divorced, right? You and all of your sucking cocks?"
Nancy Jean was in the process of calling her a bitch when I entered the room.
