My Best Friend Derails My Life Pt 04

Sara told me that shortly after John left the office, Adrian's Secretary came in and grabbed the paperwork, to fax it to the Auditor. She returned a few moments later, to inform Adrian that I had left the building to get some fresh air. Sara sat on the sofa and she and Adrian chatted amiably as they waited for the check.

Sara had obviously made a great impression on John, as she got a text from him shortly after he left Adrian's office. Sara took great delight in rubbing it in Adrian's face.

"Look baby," she teased, "John asked me out to dinner on Saturday night. He made reservations for Vine, in San Clemente. I have never been, but I hear it is a really upscale place. He also has reserved a limousine, so that we can enjoy a cocktail in the car."

Adrian told Sara "there is no way you are getting in a limo with that prick."

Sara laughed and said, "I will decide between now and Saturday. You know how much fun I have in limousines."

Apparently, Adrian had felt jealous and quite territorial with Sara, after her unexpected sexual interlude with his boss. These feelings were exacerbated by the text from John. As he struggled to control his rage, he commanded Sara to walk over to his desk. She got up off the sofa and walked seductively towards him, aware of the jealousy she had aroused in him.

"Bend over my fucking desk you prick teaser," he said aggressively.

Sara complied immediately, sensing that this was not a good time to resist Adrian.

Adrian got up slowly from his office chair, and Sara noticed his erection straining against the fabric of his suit pants. He walked around the desk and stood right behind her. Sara told me she heard Adrian's zipper open, so she wiggled her ass, to signal her availability to him.

Then she said "is that you John?"

This enraged Adrian, and his demeanor changed immediately. He kicked her legs roughly apart, hiked her pink dress up over her ass, and ripped her panties off. Adrian's possessiveness had aroused Sara and she had self-lubricated. It made her very wet when he had asserted his right to deny John access to her. Adrian lined the tip of his erect cock up with her wet pussy, and thrust deep inside her.

It was angry, violent sex with Adrian's only goal being his orgasm. Sara told me it felt very similar to make-up sex, fueled by an underlying rage.

The last time she had seen Adrian's jealousy surface like this, was on my birthday dinner. Adrian had treated Sara and I to a nice dinner, and got possessive when he saw us together. He ended up fucking Sara over the sink in the restaurant bathroom, and came uncharacteristically quickly.

Now in his office, Adrian fucked her very aggressively, and kept slapping her ass.

"Your ass belongs to me," he shouted at her. "I own you. I control access to your mouth, pussy and ass, not you. Don't fuck with me Sara. You go anywhere near that prick and I will ruin you. How do you think the members of your PTA would respond to seeing the latest photos Sergei sent me of you dressed as a slutty schoolgirl? Don't test me, bitch."

Adrian was highly agitated by her flirting with John. He pumped into her for just a few strokes, and then erupted inside her. Apparently, seeing her on her knees in front of his boss, had evoked some feelings of jealousy and ownership. He wanted to claim back his prize by shooting his seed deep inside her. After he came inside my wife, he removed his cock, slick with their combined juices.

"Clean my cock you slut," he said aggressively.

Sara told me that she knelt before Adrian and started to suck his cock. He was still agitated and called her a few choice pejoratives. Sara confessed to me that his overt threat of blackmail frightened her, and she didn't want to end up going down that road.

However, his disrespectful treatment of her, aroused her immensely, and she was loving his take-charge attitude. After several minutes on her knees, Adrian had composed himself and had his jealousy in check.

He offered her his hand and helped her to her feet. Once Sara was standing, she straightened her dress. She picked up her ripped panties, walked into the adjoining bathroom, and tossed them into the trash can.

When she returned to his office, Adrian was remorseful and apologetic. He said he was sorry for his jealous outburst and disrespectful treatment of Sara. She put her finger to his lips to silence him, and kissed him tenderly.

"Adrian, I love the way you just asserted your rights to my pussy," she told him. "You do own it. You alone control access to it. You can fuck any of my holes any time you like. Or gift me to anyone you wish, anytime, as long as they are tested. You own me, and it excites me to no end when you assert your rights to me. You don't need to keep threatening me. I know the leverage you have over me. I will be an obedient plaything for you and your friends."

After the power dynamic between them was restored, they sat together chatting and occasionally kissing. Adrian was falling for my wife and they both knew it. The check was ready about an hour later, and shortly after that, Sara called me with the good news.

"You know Chris," Sara told me, as she continued to share her story, "when we shared a hug in front of Adrian's building, I could feel his semen dripping out of me and running down my inner thighs. My ass cheeks were still burning, from the vicious spanking Adrian gave me, as I bent over his desk. I had an overwhelming urge to force you to join me and Adrian in the limo. I wanted Adrian to witness you eating his jizz from me. I wanted you to know that Adrian had ripped my panties from me."

She laughed cruelly when she said this, and her disdain for me was palpable. Sara was on a roll now. She was quite drunk, high from the MDMA she had taken earlier, and full of contempt for me.

"Getting back to your original question," she continued with a smirk, "the real reason I changed clothes, is because Adrian ejaculated all over the back of my new dress, when he fucked me doggy-style in the limousine. You are going to regret your affair with Melody by the time this is all over."

I tried to explain the actual details of my termination from my job. However, Sara was drunk and high as a kite and wasn't having any of it.

"There's no smoke without fire," she said more than once. "Why didn't you even appeal your termination, if you are not guilty of sexual harassment? Adrian said you have probably had a quid pro quo relationship with the young girl, ever since you interviewed her for the position."

I didn't know what to say. Adrian was taking Sara from me, minimizing his role in my job loss, and fanning the flames of my non-existent affair with Melody. Sara was apparently along for the ride, and she was enjoying rubbing it in my face.

I had anticipated this scenario for the last few years, and was mentally prepared by the time it started to unfurl. Sara and I had evolved from a happily married couple, to a bit of a mismatch.

Sometimes when Sara and I met new people, you could see the look on their faces, as they tried to process how the two of us were even a couple. Our fifteen year age gap was more obvious, the older we got. Sara was getting better looking each year, due to the amount we spent on her maintenance. My appearance and physicality were diminishing, along with my self-confidence. We seemed like an odd couple, although it wasn't always that way.

When I first met Sara, I had just turned forty years old. She was twenty-five, and working at the makeup counter at Nordstrom. I was at the height of my professional career, making close to $200k a year. I surfed regularly, and was in decent shape physically. I hadn't dated a lot of different women, but I had been in a few long-term relationships, and knew how to treat a woman like a lady.

Sara and I hit it off immediately, and started living together shortly after we started dating. Our love-life was good, although she wasn't the easiest woman to bring to a climax. I now know that she faked every orgasm she ever had with me, and Adrian was the first lover of hers to get her to climax. Sara and I ended up buying a larger house together, in a nicer neighborhood, and I was very happy when she accepted my marriage proposal.

Shortly after we were married, I hurt myself badly while surfing. I injured my back and neck, and my mobility was severely limited for several months. It was really tough for me to sleep due to the pain, so Sara and I slept apart. We didn't have sex for almost two years, as any physical activity was extremely painful for me. Sara blossomed as she hit her late twenties. She had a lot of young girlfriends at Nordstrom, and would go out frequently after work, for drinks or to go dancing. I was fine with this arrangement, and didn't want to go out clubbing, even though she always invited me to join her.

One night she went out with a group of girls from Nordstrom and didn't come home. She did text me to tell me that she was staying at her friend Stacey's house, but I had taken some painkillers and gone to bed.

Long story short, Sara had sex with someone closer to her age, and spent the night with him at Stacey's. She was very remorseful when she got home, and assured me that she had used protection. She told me she had drank too many cocktails, and made a bad decision. We had a long discussion about the state of our marriage, and came to the conclusion that we were in different places in our lives.

We mutually agreed to have an open marriage, in which either of us were free to have other sexual partners, as long as we engaged in safe sexual practices. Sara quit her job at Nordstrom, shortly after her she first cheated on me. We didn't need the money and she felt her young friends were a bad influence on her.

As soon as she stopped working and had much more free time on her hands, she started to spend much more money. It didn't bother me too much as I was making a lot at the time. Plus, I had a "trophy wife" and they were supposed to be expensive.

Sara spent money on clothes, makeup, nail extensions, tanning, Botox and all the other things that high maintenance Orange County women buy, to look young and cute. By the time she turned thirty years old, she looked and acted like a Newport Beach trophy wife. She had the accompanying expectations, and I came to the horrible realization that I could no longer afford her.

I knew that Sara loved me very much, but was also realistic enough to know that she would bail, if there was a drastic change in our lifestyle. My injury had forced me to stop surfing, and I lost a lot of muscle-mass and definition. Around this time I also started to lose my hair, and with it, some of my self-confidence.

Sara asserted herself as the dominant partner in our love life, and I enjoyed submitting to her when we made love. Sara did tell me that she wished I would dominate her occasionally, but I was never comfortable with this, and it just never happened.

I refinanced the house twice, as Sara was spending more than I earned. I didn't have the heart to tell her that things were going south financially for us. When the financial crisis happened in 2008, I lost all the equity in our house, and took a beating in the stock market.

She was thirty-four at the time, and had got the partying out of her system. She was fine with my diminishing physical capabilities, and told me that she was very happy in our marriage, open as it was. I always felt that if the right wealthy guy came along, she would probably move on. She loved me, but with all the options available to her, she no longer needed me.

Sara got a lot of proposals, both decent and indecent. The decent ones happened at the gym, at the grocery store, even when she was cruising around in her convertible Mercedes Benz.

The indecent ones? The plastic surgeon who periodically injected her with Botox, asked her out. The dentist who worked on her veneers wanted to treat her to dinner. Even her gynecologist had the balls to ask her to go on a month-long vacation with him, to the Maldives, four months in advance. He had chartered a private jet, and asked Sara if she had ever been there before.

He was staying at the Four Seasons Resort, and said he would love her to accompany him. He joked that he had always wanted to join the Mile High Club, just so that he could add the initials MHC to his business cards, alongside his numerous other credentials. Sara told him she would think about it.

It was a kick in the nuts when she told me that she was contemplating going there with him. It was on her bucket list she told me, going to the Maldives and joining the Mile High Club. Plus, she added cruelly, there was no way I could ever afford to take her there.

We looked up the room-rate at the Four Seasons Maldives, and the rooms started at nearly two thousand dollars a night. I told Sara that the good doctor would expect sexual favors in return, and she responded that he was sixty-two years old. How much sex can a sixty-two year old need, she asked me. I marveled at her naivety, in the era of Viagra and internet porn. Sara saw him again about two months before the upcoming vacation, and she told him she was closer to getting hubby's approval, which was a total lie. However, emboldened by her response, her gynecologist performed a full vaginal rejuvenation on her, at no cost.

He told her that she "could resume sexual activity within four to six weeks. Just in time for your vacation," he said with a wink.

There were rich men everywhere trying to steal my wife. I kept our financial woes from Sara, but things were going steadily downhill for us. She was a very desirable woman, and she wielded her sexuality as a tool to attract men. As my self-confidence withered, hers soared from all the attention she received from wealthy suitors. I could feel her underlying disdain for me, but it didn't really surface until I lost my job, accused of sexually harassing my assistant.

Sara let me have it. She told me that I could fuck Melody as often as I wanted as we had an open marriage. However, she was not going to lower her lifestyle, just because I had lost my job, because I couldn't keep my dick in my pants. I ran some numbers, and came to the conclusion that I could no longer afford Sara.

I really didn't want to give Sara up, but she seemed intent on finding a rich man to take care of her. Adrian emerged as the obvious choice. He was rich, attractive, and he and Sara had off the charts chemistry. He was the first man to make Sara orgasm. In fact, he had made her orgasm multiple times, in their encounter on our Anniversary. It was no surprise to me, that he was finally exerting pressure on me to give Sara up. He could afford to finance her lifestyle, he knew she responded favorably to his dominant streak, and he was ready to mold her into his perfect fuck-toy.