All characters in the story are at least 18 years old.
*
Michael was tired. He ate quickly and quietly, glancing frequently at the kitchen clock lest he be late. 30 minutes was a short dinner break even when you lived right near the plant. Katherine picked at her food trying to make small talk to hide the apprehension that welled within her. Ian would be prompt. He always was. It meant that Michael needed to get out of there and go back to work promptly too. She worried that Michael would see his car across the street if he was sitting out there early. Or that a neighbor might see her get into the car with him and put two and two together.
She watched her husband, anxiously wanting him to finish his supper and head back to work before Ian arrived. But, at the same time, wanting the clock to slow and stave off what would inevitably begin as soon as he left. Michael kissed her at the door, patting her on her behind possessively and whispered 'I'll be late Babe. We're stuck there until 3am getting the damned issue out'.
There was no one on the street when she ducked into the front seat of Ian's car and he wasted no time pulling away from the curb and away from the building. He took a different route out of the complex and unexpectedly turned left when he came to the first lights. They were almost to his house when Katherine realized that's where they were going and she asked.
'Pat's away at the cottage with the kids. We'll have the house to ourselves,' he replied dragging his hand along her leg and moving the grey pleated skirt higher.
The door had scarcely closed when Ian took her in his arms. With a cursory peck on the forehead he began to remove her clothes. She was quiet, passive, not wanting what was happening but afraid of the consequences of incurring his anger. She let him unzip her skirt and stepped out of it when he told her to lift her foot. He was impatient when he attacked the buttons on her top and she took over rather than have him ruin another blouse. He watched with an amused look as she skimmed the pale pink panties down over her hips and legs. She reached out for him then, thinking it was enough and knowing he liked her in her garters and stockings. But he stopped her and told her he wanted everything off. She rolled the stockings down her lovely legs and took off the lacy suspender belt while he watched with the barely concealed egotism of a master puppeteer.
She sat on the couch but he took her by the hand pulling her up and led her toward the stairs. She paused to try to pick up her clothes but he told her curtly to leave them and she did. He steered her, naked and uncomfortable, up the carpeted stairs to a back bedroom where he pushed her down onto the bed. She watched as he wordlessly took off his trousers and folded them over the back of a chair.
'Did he fuck you last night?' he asked impudently, watching her begin to blush as he deliberately embarrassed her.
Flustered by the insensitive way he pried into her private life, she shook her head no, not wanting to encourage his intrusion by verbalizing an answer.
'When was the last time?' he persisted.
'EEyyannn!!! She whined.
'Tell me. Or would you rather I asked Michael myself?' he pressed, his eyes glittering coldly.
She looked at him quizzically, wondering how anyone could be so unfeelingly callous. He was a vile contaminant, befouling the sanctity of her marriage. The gloating superiority on his face made her even question what she ever saw in him.
'I want you to start keeping a journal,' he chided. 'You need to start remembering who you're putting out for.'
'It's only you and my husband, Katherine snapped impatiently. I don't need a journal to remember that.'
'Write it out,' he insisted. 'I want you to start writing it down. Who? Where? When? and especially what you did.'
He walked over to her then, slapping his semi- erect penis against her cheek and her chin. 'A prime piece of ass like you can attract a lot of cock,' he grinned. 'I just want to know how much you're getting and from who.'
Anxious to end his insidious probing into her private sexual relations with her husband she opened her mouth to let him push inside. He held up his shirt tail so he could watch her oral performance and she didn't disappoint. Her head captured his cock and began to suck.
'Can you taste Pat on there?' he teased causing her to close her eyes in disgust. After a few minutes he crawled between her legs and took her. There was no attempt to prepare her, no pretext of foreplay. Her needs were of no concern, only her capacity to give pleasure. He propped himself up on his hands so he could look between their bodies and watch himself sliding in and out of her.
'C'mon you lazy little bitch,' he urged 'Move that cunt... Let me see you fuck like the whore you really are...'
His words cut through her consciousness and crushed her self esteem. Her hips responded reflexively while her eyes filled with tears. Devastated by the change in his attitude toward her she tried to do what he wanted hoping to satisfy him and have the ordeal over. The sound of her wet flesh slapping against him and her laboured breathing galled her as much as it pleased him. Abruptly then, he pulled out of her leaving her panting on the bed while he padded down the carpeted hall. She waited there catching her breath, thinking he had gone to the bathroom. When ten minutes passed and he still hadn't returned Katherine got up and made her way back to the livingroom to retrieve her discarded clothes. They were nowhere to be seen, but there grinning at her from the couch were Armand and Don.
She heard herself yelp in surprise and stumbled numbly towards the doorway. But Ian was there blocking her way and before she could react or cover herself a camera flashed illuminateing her nakedness. Ian's arms encircled her from the back, his hands cupping her breasts and roaming over her stomach while Don took shot after shot.
'Please ... let me go!' Katherine wailed repeatedly until Ian suddenly released her and pushed her into the centre of the room.
'Do you really want to go Katherine?'
'Yes!' she wept loudly.
'Would you like me to call Michael to come and get you?'
'Nooo! Please!! You have to stop this...' she wailed.
Ian stepped in close beside her and put his arm around her shoulders while she cowered against him trying to shield her nakedness from the others. She sobbed heavily against his chest and her stroked her hair. 'So you'd like to stay after all and have us keep your secret?'
Armand reached out and ran his fingers over the curve of her belly. C'mon Katherine. You already fucked Ian upstairs. Better to fuck us too than fuck up your life. Your husband doesn't even have to find out.'
They pulled her down onto the carpet on her back pushing her legs apart and Armand pinioned her hands above her head. Don had full access to her youthful breasts kissing and licking her bare skin, working his way down to her squirming belly while Ian gleefully captured the details on his camcorder. Every neuron in Katherine's lovely body seemed electrified with a deep and desperate shame. When Don's fingers raked through her maiden hair she stiffened at his touch and cried out in mortification.
'She's soaking wet!' Don crowed triumphantly. 'The little bitch is hot and she wants it!'
Katherine groaned when his mouth pressed against her sex and again when he stuck his tongue deep into her furrow. The shame of her body's response roiled with a fear that Don might be right. The vulgar names that Ian called her and her very presence there naked in his house planted doubt that seeped through her psyche and pooled low in her naked loins.
She was helpless to stop what they were doing and the will to resist waned in the face of futility. She whimpered when his gently sucking lips encircled her clit playing with the sensitive nubbin, licking in circles then sucking it into his mouth to lash it with his tongue. Katherine squirmed out of a fading loyalty to her husband, trying to half-heartedly to get away from the relentlessly sucking mouth. Her hips flailed and flexed against him, rising up and bucking. Then again, and again, until her own rhythm was unmistakable and her whining protests turned to moans of indulgence.
