Usual Disclaimers:
** This a total work of fiction involving coercion, infidelity and submission, so if that is not your thing then move on - otherwise enjoy this, long in the making, next chapter**
**You really need to have read the earlier chapters to fully enjoy this series **
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A bedraggled and exhausted Louise reflected on the evenings events as she trudged towards her front door reflecting on her metamorphosis as a contented Colin drives off wondering if he can live up to what he has become.
LOUISE:
As I walked toward my home, semen seemingly leaking from every orifice, I was so confused as a million thoughts rushed through my mind as I walked up my driveway. I had allowed Colin,...erm....Mr. Yearwood, to do things to me that no other man, not even my husband, has dared to do. After everything that I have accomplished and the respect I have earned, I am convinced that I will be spending almost every day for the rest of my working life either on my knees sucking Mr. Yearwood's cock or at least bent over his desk being spanked or fucked....and it excites me.
But what he did to me this evening.....what I allowed to happen in that cinema...was insane. And yet I have never felt as excited nor as fulfilled as I did tonight. What have I become?
I dress to please and impress him and look forward to when he inspects my attire to make sure I am wearing stockings. Whilst I have never felt so alive, so desirable and fulfilled, a part of me still screams that this is not who I am. Even if he had saved me from the embarrassment of financial ruin, I find a small part of myself wondering if it was all worth it.
I was so sure I could handle Mr. Yearwood, but after he took me into that disgusting porn cinema I knew that I had really underestimated him. I couldn't believe, first, that we were even in that neighbourhood, and second, that he'd want me to go into such a place. Mind you, I have always wondered what those sort of places looked like inside and I must admit that, on first glance, I was disappointed because it looked no different from any ordinary cinema. Just thinking about what happened makes me cringe in shame even as my pussy moistens and aches to be taken that way again.
I put my key in the door and wearily open it. I wonder if Mark is still awake?
Mark was waiting for me in the lounge. He looked beaten and tired as he turned his head and stared at my bedraggled appearance with doleful eyes.
Mark did not take the news about my not being able to visit his parents lightly. We argued, not about me being Mr Yearwood's sex slave, but solely about not being able to visit his parent. It was a surreal argument, however, because Mr. Yearwood had instructed me to "figure out how to manage it", I took that as permission to do whatever it took.
Although Mark is my husband, I needed Mr. Yearwood's permission to have sex with him as part of our 'arrangement'. When I finally calmed him down and told Mark that I would do whatever he wanted if he would just not make a fuss, for our son's sake, he glared at me for several moments before saying, "Prove it." He then pulled down the zipper on his pants and took out his cock, a cock I had not seen, nor had the pleasure of, in several weeks.
Looking him directly in the eyes, and as sore and exhausted as I was, I dropped down before him, onto my knees on the living room carpet, and took his throbbing cock in my hand. I firmly squeezed his shaft as I pulled his flesh back making the bulbous head seem to swell before my eyes. I leaned slowly forward and opened my mouth to engulf his manhood and be met immediately by appreciative sighs from Mark. I took my time. After we were married I never used to give Mark blow-jobs very often and I knew that it bothered him. Now I was going to give him the best blow-job of his married life.
In the short time I had given myself to Mr. Yearwood, I had learned how to please a man with my mouth. My tongue embraced Mark's throbbing shaft, dragging along the sensitive underside of his cock. My lips clamped down to pull his skin back as I fed his length into my mouth, sucking and drawing his engorged head deep into my throat.
Even as I took his dick all the way down my throat and used my hands to play with his balls I could hear the familiar panting he would make just before he came. I redoubled my efforts and gently squeezed his balls, eliciting an animal like groan. I stared up at him and that is when he came, with a loud groan, emptying his seed down my throat as I dutifully swallowed it all.
Poor Mark had barely lasted a minute.
I kept his cock in my mouth sucking every last drop of sperm as his cock deflated, and, when he finally took it out, he looked down at me with a mix of incredulity, love and lust.
Mark surprised me when he suddenly said, "Now, let's take this up to the bedroom."
I followed Mark to our matrimonial bed and for the rest of the night and early hours of the morning, my husband amazed me at his powers of recovery and stamina as he first fed on my soiled pussy, bringing me to a satisfying orgasm, before he fucked me non-stop. I let him take me whenever and wherever he wanted as I allowed him to work out the obvious frustrations he had endured these past weeks. He was voracious and yet, toward the end, loving as he eventually embraced me and we fell into a deep sleep.
My dreams were filled with images of debauchery and debasement, but Mark was not in them.
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I woke, bleary-eyed and sore, later that morning and Mark did not speak much. Every now and then he would look at me as though he wanted to have a heart-to-heart talk, but I just couldn't bear the thought of it. Under the terms of our refinancing package I belonged to Mr. Yearwood and am his personal slut, but only HIS slut. Only Mr. Yearwood knows me and only Mr. Yearwood OWNS me, so whatever Mark wanted would just have to wait until I was ready to discuss it.
It was with both dread and relief that, as I was finishing my morning coffee, I received a text from Mr. Yearwood. Incredibly, he was cancelling our weekend and giving me permission to visit Mark's parents after all. I looked across the table at Mark and decided I had already paid my dues in that regard and would instead take the time to get some much need rest.
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COLIN:
The events at the porn cinema were taking a lot to process, so I decided to give Louise a break and cancelled my plans for the weekend. Everything has been going so well lately and
I needed to think.
My wife, Wendy, seemed less irritating this morning, almost loving in our interactions. She seemed to respond to my new found confidence and was more willing to accede to my amorous advances this morning. I confess to feelings of shame at some of the lewd thoughts I have directed at my wife during our love-making. Images of Louise eating Wendy's pussy or even of Wendy being serviced by several men as I look on spurred me to orgasm when we fucked.
At work it is almost as though I cannot put a foot wrong. I was finally getting the recognition I deserved by the hierarchy and it would not surprise me if I became the next Head of Department. I even get invited to the boss' Tuesday morning breakfast briefings, which keeps me in the spotlight. The Boss, Mr. Richard Brown, a Senior Vice-President, is the most senior person at our branch and he has responsibility for the local area. Being on his good side can only be a bonus for my stalled career. There is even word that I will get invited to his next social event.
Having reconciled the events of the previous Friday, and having given Louise some 'time off', I felt ready to face Monday.
******
When Louise entered my office that morning and closed the door behind her, I continued to marvel at how she stirred my loins. She stood before my desk resplendent in a fitted, short-sleeve lilac coloured blouse that accentuated her firm breast and showed enough cleavage to be almost scandalous. Her tight black skirt hugged her hips and clung to her firm thighs enough to show the tell-tale small bulges caused by the snaps of her suspender belt holding her coffee coloured stockings up her long shapely legs. This delectable package was then elegantly perched atop her 3inch stiletto heeled black patent pumps. Head, slightly bowed, she sported her trademark pony tail and hinted at her nervousness standing before me.
It is patently unfair that I cannot risk simply throwing this bitch over my desk and fucking her with the abandon my cock is screaming for. When I see this vision before me only the fear of losing it all prevents me from throwing caution to the wind. The silence in the room is deafening.
From behind my desk I wave a finger at her, indicating that she raise the hem of her skirt. She sees the motion and immediately understands and complies by slowly, erotically, pulling her short skirt up, wiggling her hips slightly as she does so.
First, her firm, stocking-clad thighs are shown; then the dark band of her stocking tops is revealed; followed by the clasps of her white suspender belt.
Silky white flesh greets me as the hem of her skirt clears the tops of her stockings, the flesh, free of the confines of the stockings, gently squeezed out, almost meeting in the middle if it were not for the emerging puffy lips of her clean shaven pussy.