Another Man's Wife

I enjoy other men's wives. I enjoy single women too but there's something special about a married one. Of course, it's that taste of forbidden fruit, knowing that when she opens her arms -- and legs -- to you she is breaking those sacred vows and you are taking something that was promised to another man alone.

The only thing I can't decide is whether it's better if the husband knows or not. I remember a wedding last summer when some loud-mouth was bragging about a big deal he'd pulled off in the City, blissfully unaware that as his wife stood dutifully beside him my seed was trickling down her leg into the lacy tops of her stockings. It was there because fifteen minutes earlier she had been bent over the bed in my room upstairs, her red dress flipped up over her back as I emptied my balls into her. And I knew it was seeping down because her matching red thong was still in my pocket.

Or is it better if the poor guy knows you're bedding his wife and you can see the look of defeat in his eyes that comes from knowing his wife has picked you as a superior male. And knowing his last thought every day must be to wonder if the lips he's kissing good night were wrapped around your cock just a few hours earlier.

But the sweetest -- though the very rarest - is when the husband gets to watch his wife give herself to you. Which is why I was walking up the drive of a smart house in North London. I make my money in what you might call the credit control arm of the leisure sector and this was the home of Maurice Ross. He was quite a successful businessman, hence the house, but he was also a card player. As it happens he was quite a good card player, just not quite as good as he though he was, which explains why he owed us just over fifty grand. Normally we would not let a punter run up a tab like that but Maurie's game was import/export and there had been a time when we were trying to put together a little deal that we thought he might be able to help us with and a bit of extra leverage would not go amiss. But the deal fell through and now we wanted our money and Maurie was behind with the payments so I had come for a quiet word.

When Maurie answered the door his first reaction was shock and a quick glance over his shoulder. "Er, Steve," he said. "Um, it's not really conveni......" I ignored him, shot him a crocodile smile and said: "Evening, Maurie. Mind if I come in?" and gave the door a firm, steady push. That forced Maurie back into the hallway and I brushed past him just as Mrs Ross came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel and asking "Who is it, darling?" She was wearing a white blouse, black trousers and flat shoes. Her blonde hair was held back with an Alice band. She looked every inch the posh suburban wife.

I first met Sally Ross when we had a charity night at the club. All the regulars were there and most brought their wives or girlfriends. I noticed Maurie and his wife as soon as they came through the door. She was wearing a plain floor length blue dress, cut high at the throat and a simple pendant. In a room awash with fake tan cleavage and bling she was an island of sophistication and elegance. And I wanted her.

As she stepped into the hallway she said good evening and I replied: "Good evening, Mrs Ross. I just dropped by to have a word with Maurie. A small business matter."

She looked puzzled. "Business? On a Sunday evening? Wouldn't it wait until tomorrow?" then she looked a little more closely and added: "Haven't we met somewhere?"

I smiled again. "Yes, Maurice introduced us. At the Castle Club last summer."

She seemed to be trying to remember the club. "The casino?....." Then the penny dropped. Oh God, not again Maurice. How much this time?"

Maurie looked from one to the other of us before saying; "Oh it's nothing, darling, I can take care of it, won't you come into my study, Steve."

But she was having none of that and asked again in a dangerously firm tone "How much, Maurice?"

Maurie still tried to bluster so I helped him out by telling her that it was fifty grand and watched the colour drain from her face.

"My God, how could you be so stupid? You bloody idiot!" Then she turned to me and said: "We don't have that kind of money. You'll just have to wait."

I put on my most reasonable voice to tell her that we had already been exceptionally patient but even our patience must eventually come to an end and we wanted the money. Now I'll give her her due she was not going to let herself be intimidated in her own hallway by the likes of me, though many would be. I find that in my line of work it pays to have what you might call 'a bit of a presence' so I have a couple of sessions a week in a boxing gym off the Old Kent Road, working the bags and sparring. It makes life easier, because if you look like you can handle yourself most people tend to behave themselves. But Sally Ross had been to public school and was the daughter of a brigadier, no less. Like I said, posh.

She drew herself up and said: "How dare you come into my home threatening us! If you don't leave at once I'm calling the police" and began to head for the living room. Maurie did not know whether to be scared of me or proud of his wife so I leaned forward and quietly dropped my second bombshell on him. "Tasha might not like that."

Tasha was a trim little croupier who worked for us. We did not generally approve of staff fraternising with customers but, as I said, Maurie had been a special case so we let it go. I'd thought Maurie was already ashen but he somehow managed to go even whiter at the mention of her name and dragged his wife back insisting there was no need for the police. He'd have been whiter still if he knew that in return for a small bonus and promise that it would not end up on the internet, she had let me install a couple of cameras in her flat to capture Maurie's less-than-impressive performance for posterity. As I said, we were keen to have a bit of leverage over him.

Mrs Ross reluctantly came back, clearly recognising there was something going on here she did not understand and looking worried. At this point her hand went to a string of pearls at the throat of her white blouse. "Well, we don't have that kind of money available but I suppose I have some jewellery...."

Again it was time for my sincere voice as I told her that ours was a strictly cash business. I'd hate Maurie to report anything stolen to get the insurance money and find myself holding stolen property. And then came the opening.

"But there must be something...."

Bingo! But careful. There was still time for this to slip away. I allowed my gaze to drop down her body and then come back up to her face. "Oh I can see something I like very much, Mrs Ross, but I hardly think...."

For moment she was puzzled and then realised what I was insinuating. A flash of anger crossed her face and her hand came back to slap me. Thanks to all the boxing I think I could have gone into the kitchen and made myself a cup of tea and still had time to catch her arm which hit my palm with a meaty slap, followed by a small squeal from her. Unfortunately hearing his wife's little squeak made Maurie come over all Sir Galahad and he gallantly stepped towards me shouting: "Leave my wife alone". I've no idea what he thought he was going to do. He probably didn't know himself but just to be on the safe side I gave him a little tap in the midriff. It wasn't a hard punch, not really a punch at all but it was obviously a long time since Maurice had seen the inside of a gym and there was no resistance to my fist. The wind came out of him in a quiet wheeze and Maurie collapsed on the floor like a punctured balloon.

That brought another squeak from Mrs Ross and she flung herself over him like a protective mother bird, She looked at me with venom and spat out: "Leave him alone, you bastard." She tut tutted over Maurie as he frantically tried to find some air to put back in his lungs and then looked up at me with a little less defiance and added; "Please don't hurt him. He's not like you" I said nothing while she tried to think and Maurie slowly found some oxygen. She seemed to come to a decision.

"If I were to...," she began before drifting away. She took a deep breath herself and started again; "Supposing I were to let you, well you know, you promise not to hurt him? And then the debt would be paid.?"

I tried to keep the sense of triumph from my face as I said: "Ah Mrs Ross. I don't want to be appear ungallant and if were up to me.... But I'm afraid £50,000 is rather a lot of money and my associates may not feel I had struck a very good bargain for them." I let the fear sink in before I added: "But perhaps if we came to such an arrangement I could overlook this missed payment and give you a couple of extra weeks to come up with it." I saw a bit of hope in her eyes before I went for the kill "However, I'm not sure that 'letting me' as you put it, would be very satisfactory. We'd need a bit of, shall we say, enthusiasm, on your part, wouldn't we?"

She bit her lip and then whispered; "Very well" By now Maurie had got enough breathe back to object but she snapped back; "Oh shut up Maurice. Isn't it bad enough I have to whore myself to a thug like this for you without you whining? Or do you want him to break your kneecaps?"

Break his kneecaps? Where do people get these ideas? The idea of turning up at Maurie's house was to let him see that nowhere was safe till he paid up. Where might I pop up next? At his office? The golf club? His Masonic Lodge? But I'd no intention of touching his kneecaps. People start turning up are A&E with that sort of thing and the Old Bill starts taking an interest. Our licence was worth far more to us than Maurie's fifty grand. But this did not seem the time to correct her as things were going so well. Nor did I correct her description of me as a thug and I did not bother telling her I had an honours degree in economics from a highly respected university and had picked my industry with some care.

The old defiance came back as she said; "Very well. Let's get it over with" Not quite the enthusiasm I'd been hoping for but never mind. I looked around the hall and told Maurie to bring a chair that was standing there. She looked horrified and said: "You don't expect me to do this in front of my husband, do you?"

Again I gave her my reasonable face and pointed out that this was a lesson for Maurie and he needed to see what trouble he had brought on himself and her. Besides I wanted Maurie where I could keep an eye on him. She made towards the living room but I said we should go upstairs. The first room we went to was obviously a guest room so I insisted we use her bedroom. Their marriage bed. I thought Maurie looked like a man in shock as I took a packet of cable ties from my pocket and swiftly fastened his arms to the chair, followed by his ankles before he'd really worked out what was happening. Wonderful things, cable ties. So quick to slip on. That's why the Old Bill use them as handcuffs and for me they are so innocent. These had been bought from an accessory shop that afternoon. If anyone asked why I had them they were for a DIY job at home. Not for tying a husband to a chair while I had the pleasure of his wife.

Mrs Ross looked at me and asked: "How do you want to do this. I mean what do we...."

I helped her out by suggesting she may be a little overdressed. She gave me a withering look and then began to undo the buttons of her blouse. Once it was open she pulled if from that waistband of her trousers and slipped it down her arms. In an ideal world she would have been wearing a basque and suspenders but she was dressed for a quiet evening at home with her hubby in front of the telly so the white bra was pleasant enough but quite plain. When her trousers followed the knickers were slightly mumsy too, despite the lace rims and instead of stockings she was wearing those ridiculous pop socks that come up to the knee. I loved her spirit though and the way she looked me right in the eyes as she unclipped her bra and tossed it aside.

Her breasts were perfect. Full B or or maybe jut C cups with exactly the right amount of give to sit a bit lower on her chest. Not sticking forward like those fake plastic jobs but with just enough weight and shape. She put her thumbs into the sides of her knickers and with only the slightest hesitation pushed them down. I was delighted to see that Mrs Ross was a natural blonde and that, although neatly trimmed, her bush covered all of her mound rather than one of those silly little landing strips that some women think are sexy but really just make them look like out of work porn actresses.

She was not giving an inch. She made no attempt to cover herself but instead challenged me: "Now who's overdressed? Not gone shy all of a sudden, have we?" I was going to enjoy this. I slipped off my suit jacket and undid my tie, quickly followed by my shirt, socks and trousers. The hours I've put in the gym have given me a pretty good body so I let her take a good look at it before suggesting she might like to help with my boxers that were already tenting nicely with the thought of the pleasure to come.

She came forward and stopped as if suddenly remembering something. "You'll have to wear something. I'm not on the Pill. Maurice had the snip during his first marriage so you'll need to wear a thingy."

It was a bit late for that. "Mrs Ross, I did not come her expecting to be doing this so I'm afraid I'm a bit ill equipped with thingies, as you call them. We'll just have to do our best......or we could revert to Plan A" I added with a raised eyebrow.

That flustered her. "No. No don't hurt him. Promise you'll pull out. No, in fact let me suck you instead. I'll let you come in my mouth. Just don't hurt him."

At this point Maurie seemed to come to life and began telling her not to. It was all getting a bit out of hand so I picked up Mrs Ross's knickers from the floor, stuffed them in his mouth and used one of the pop socks to tie it in place. At least it was bit muffled if nothing else.

I turned back to Mrs Ross and asked : "Now what were you suggesting?" and pushed her gently but firmly to her knees, her face inches from my groin. She reached forward, took the waistband of my boxers in her hands and slowly pulled them down and I stepped out of them. I'm no porn star but I am comfortably above average length and thickness and, having seen the tape of Maurie and Tasha, all three of us knew that Mrs Ross was about to receive rather more than she was used to getting from poor old Maurie.

At first she just looked at it. It had drooped a bit during the distraction of gagging of Maurie but was rapidly growing again and I said quietly; "Kiss it, Mrs Ross" putting my had behind her head and drawing her lips forward.

As they touched the head of my cock she kissed it and then moved he lips a little to kiss it again. Her tongue came out and she began to give little cat licks around the head and under the rim. A pearl of per-cum appeared and she licked that too. Then she slipped the head into her mouth and I felt her tongue caressing the head before she began a gentle in and out motion. She seemed to have decided to try to get me off with her mouth to avoid a fucking and I was happy to let her try. For a while.

I'd deliberately turned sideways on to Maurie so he could see my cock disappearing into his wife's mouth and her lips travelled up and down my shaft, now glistening with her saliva. Her hand came up to cradle my balls and I grunted for her to lick them Her hand kept wanking me as her tongue slid down the shaft and then flicked across my sack. She really was a fabulous cock sucker, completely wasted on Maurie, and I let her make love to my cock until I was almost coming and then pulled out of her mouth and lifted her to her feet. "Mrs Ross, I do believe you are trying to make me come, But that was not our deal"

I turned her to the bed and lay her across it. "Besides, fair exchange....." I knelt between her legs and eased her thighs apart taking a good look at her pussy before leaning forward and inhaling her secret scent. She smelled delicious, tangy and musky, as a woman should. I licked her lips and gently sucked them into my mouth, I pushed my tongue inside her savouring her for a few minutes. She seemed to be getting wetter as I worked on her before moving on to her clitoris. She tried to resist, saying "No. No" but I carried on until, despite her efforts not to in front of her husband, she came.

I climbed onto the bed and pulled her on top of me and pulled her face towards me and kissed her. At first she kept her lips closed until I reminded her "Enthusiasm, Mrs Ross, don't forget the enthusiasm" and she let my tongue into her mouth. All the time she had been straddling me, her thighs either side of my hips I had been rubbing my cock against her, letting Maurie see just how close my cock was to his wife's defenceless pussy and now it was time. I reached down and rubbed it up and down her lips, still slippery from my saliva and her orgasm. As if on cue she said again; "Promise you won't come inside me. Promise you'll pull out" the perfect reminder for him that her womb was completely at my mercy and my naked cock was about to invade his unprotected wife.

To prolong the moment I let my head slide in and out of her lips a couple of times before I gave a more determined push and slowly drove the full length inside her and began to thrust. After a while I pushed Mrs Ross upright so she was fully impaled and Maurie had the perfect vantage point to see his wife completely filled with my cock. She winced and said: "Be careful. You're too big. It's going too deep." That must have hurt Maurie, knowing my bigger cock was visiting parts of his wife he had never known.

But by now I was getting close and rolled her onto her back, letting my cock come out just for the sheer pleasure of letting Maurie see me put it back in. I was riding high so that he could see what was happening. I could feel my sperm rising and my thrusting became more erratic. Mrs Ross realised what was about to happen and shouted: "Pull out!" She tried to wriggle free but with one of my arms round her shoulders and the other hooked under her knee she had no escape and with a series of deep grunts I emptied my balls deep inside her. With each spasm I gave a thrust so that Maurie could be in no doubt that with each one a few million more sperm were heading in search of her completely unprotected eggs. It felt perfect.

"You fucking bastard," she said but I ignored her, too busy relishing the moment. Finally I rolled off her but pulled her close and hooked my leg over her thigh to open her legs and let Maurie see my sperm leaking from her. He looked a broken man. He had been punched to the floor, tied to a chair in his own bedroom and made to watch helplessly as his wife was inseminated and possibly impregnated by a bigger, stronger male in his own marriage bed.

Mrs Ross said: "Let me go. I need to get rid of this" but I held her tight. "The damage is done, Mrs Ross but on the subject of cleaning up I wonder if you might do the honours". I gently pushed her head down and she meekly went to my groin and gently sucked and licked me clean' I looked over her blonde head into Maurie's eyes as his wife's mouth enveloped my cock and cleaned our mingled juices. And I winked at him.

But it was time to go. I climbed out of bed and quickly got dressed and said: "Don't get up Maurie, Your lovely wife can see me out. Well it's been a lovely evening. In fact I almost hope you miss the next instalment and we can do it all over again. Mrs Ross can cut you free once I've gone"

Mrs Ross, still naked, followed me out of the bedroom and down the the front hall. As we reached the door she hissed: "What did you hit him for? That wasn't in the script"