"Oh fuck! Fuck me fuck me fuck me!! Oh my godddddd!!!"
Pleased to hear that his latest move was a resounding success, James went back to his own thoughts as his 9 inch penis continued to pound into a very wet pussy.
What time is it? I have to get to that appointment at 3 o'clock.
Mrs. Flannigan continued to voice her pleasure as her pale body writhed under James' muscular tanned body. James figured that 3 orgasms should be enough.
Alright James, get the fuck out of your own head and concentrate. She is getting pretty close to cumming again. Got to time this right.
Taking his own advice, James immersed himself into the physical feel of his cock pistoning in and out of a very nice pussy. He let his thoughts drift and felt his body react to the stimulus of a good ol' fucking. His balls began that usual tingle as his semen prepared for battle.
"Oh fuck James! God you are about to give me another one! Fuck fuck fuck! Yes, yes, yes, please don't stop. Please keep fucking meeeeeee!!!!"
She arched her back, her firm tits pointing at the ceiling.
Here we go James.
He felt the tingle spread from his balls up through his cock.
Wait...wait....there!
"James I'm cummmmminnnnngggggg!!!!"
And with the ease of years of practice, James unloaded his seed into the suddenly convulsing pussy squeezing his cock. He felt the explosion of his orgasm straight from his balls, blazing through the channel of his huge cock, and out through the small slit on the head of his penis. Torrents of powerful cum splattered the inside of her uterus. Her body shuddered and spasmed violently. James held onto her like he was on a mechanical bull. His cock continued to spit out his pent-up reserve of cum. Slowly, very slowly, they finally collapsed, panting. He rolled over next to her and they both lay on their back, staring at the ceiling and enjoying the after-effects of a powerful orgasm.
Where the fuck is he?
James thought as he glanced over at the bedroom door.
"James," Mrs. Flannigan said, rolling over and putting her head on his chest. "If I leave Mark, would you--"
With a loud BANG!, the door of the bedroom flew open and smacked against the wall. An enraged man stood in the doorway, breathing hard. He wore a business suit and a briefcase was dangling from his hand.
"What. The. FUCK IS GOING ON HERE!!!" He roared, spit flying from his mouth.
At the sound of the door crashing open, Mrs. Flannigan had jerked up and pulled the sheet across her chest. Now she sat staring, dumbfounded, at a very pissed off husband.
"Mark...I...what...what are doing home early?"
"What the fuck does it matter that I am home early?! You fucking whore!! After all I gave you! You ungrateful, fucking bitch of a slut!"
She seemed to shrink back from the fury of her husband's outburst. Helpless tears were streaming down her cheeks. The whole time Mr. Flannigan's anger was directed as his wife, James was quietly gathering his clothes and dressing. He was just putting on his last shoe when Mr. Flannigan rounded on him.
"You! I don't know who the fuck you are but I hope you are glad that you just ruined a loving marriage! Get the fuck out of my sight before I grab my shotgun! Go! Get out!"
Not needing to be told twice, James quickly hustled from the room and out of the house. Once outside, James collected his thoughts. He frowned. The effects of his orgasm were wearing off and once again he was left with a feeling of...disappointment.
That was too fucking easy. Again.
James walked to the café around the corner and waited.
**********************************
James glanced up from his notes and saw Mr. Flannigan walking toward him. He had a huge grin on his face. He sat down in the chair in front of James.
"By god man you did it! I shouldn't be surprised, what with the reputation that you have."
James bowed his head at the compliment.
"God, I feel so free. Do you realize how much smoother you just made my divorce? I just got done talking to her and the bitch isn't going to give me a fight. She is packing her bags now. Shit! You are a saint! A fucking saint!"
"Did you bring your checkbook?" James asked him, almost coldly.
The smile slipped slightly from Mr. Flannigan's face.
Why do they always think we are going to be friends?
But then his face brighten again as he pulled his checkbook out from the inside of his jacket.
"What's the final tally?" Mr. Flannigan asked, pulling out a pen.
James looked down at his notes. "Lets see...5 hours were spent on research, 10 more on surveillance, 3 hours on..."
Mr. Flannigan was waving his hand to stop him. "I trust you. Just tell me the final total."
"50 hours at $500 a hour...$25,000."
Mr. Flannigan whistled as he started writing his check. "Your reputation is well deserved. You are very fair. $25,000 is nothing compared to the amount of money you just saved me from my divorce." He signed the check in a flourish and handed to James.
The check was for $50,000. James raised his eyebrows toward Mr. Flannigan. "Like I said, $25,000 is nothing." Mr. Flannigan smiled and held out his hand.
Smiling slightly himself, James shook his hand. "You're not too bad, Mr. Flannigan. It was a pleasure doing business with you. Make sure you tell your friends about me."
"Oh I will. You can count on that. There are not many men who can seduce a woman who knows she will get nothing if she commits adultery."
James nodded his thanks and turned to leave. But he stopped and turned back toward Mr. Flannigan.
Why do I always ask this question?
"Did you ever love her, Mr. Flannigan?"
Mr. Flannigan's smile slowly sank down until dark storm clouds seemed to hover over his face. "In the beginning, I think...but things change huh Mr. Coltez?
James nodded his agreement, turned around, and walked away. He was disappointed by the answer. Again.
************************************************
James sat quietly reading on the park bench, dressed in a smart business suit. His dark hair was blowing carelessly in the breeze. He seemed oblivious to the hungry stares of the women in the park.
He finally glanced up from his book when a middle-aged man sat next to him. Like James, he was dressed in an expensive suit. The Rolex watch on his wrist reflected the bright afternoon sun. He took off his Armani sunglasses and extended his hand.
"Mr. Coltez, right? I am Peter Wombert."
Shaking his hand, James studied him through his dark sunglasses. He can tell from the way Mr. Wombert held himself that he was a man of power. Somebody who used any and all methods to get what he wanted. Money held no allure for this man. It was a means to an end, nothing more. James gathered all this in the time it took to shake his hand and introduce himself. He had years of experience judging people at a glance.
"What brings you to inquire of my services, Mr. Wombert?"
Mr. Wombert didn't answer right away but looked out over the park. Where the wind blew James' hair across his face, it couldn't budge Mr. Wombert's hair. His black hair, white at the edges, was combed smartly back and held there with industrial strength hair gel. He had a neatly trimmed goatee and was pale of skin.
He wouldn't do too badly with the ladies if he wasn't an insufferable asshole
, James observed wisely.
Mr. Wombert spoke hesitantly. "Mr. Coltez...have you ever been in love?"
"Once. I was married in what seemed a life time ago. Why?"
"Then perhaps you will know the reasons why I came to you. You see, I am in love. Not an infatuation or obsession. Or lust. But real, tormented, beautiful, kick in you in the balls love. You are probably wondering what my problem is, huh? Well, since I came to you, then you won't be surprised to know that the woman I am in love with is married."
"Naturally," James replied.
"Normally a married woman is no barrier to me. I have bedded many married women. No, the problem is that her husband is a fucking boy scout. You know what I mean? The kind of man who cries at movies, shares all his deepest secrets with his wife, and probably shaves his hairy ass too. And she is totally, completely, in love with him. I have been in the damn 'friends' zone with her for 15 fucking years. Oh see loves me, but like a brother," he finished bitterly.