My Best Friend Derails My Life

I had never known anyone whose life was turned upside down so rapidly, and the stress of losing everything was killing me. I was unemployed, with no prospect of a job, thanks to Adrian's threats. I had no income, just a few months worth of living expenses in the bank.

I had two lawsuits against me. Even though, they were both frivolous, my insurance company had backed away from defending me. Also, I couldn't afford to defend against them myself. Adrian would undoubtedly draw me into a protracted legal battle, that might cost more that the damages he was requesting.

He wanted eight thousand dollars to repaint the side of his limousine, plus his legal expenses of two thousand dollars. For his groin injury, he wanted one hundred thousand dollars. This exorbitant amount was due to his "loss of flexibility" which was paramount to his potential future earnings, if he ever decided to return to the NFL as a conditioning coach.

We both knew it was total bullshit. He made more in one month, managing the investments of current and former NFL players, than he made annually as a coach. He had me over a barrel, and we both knew it. He held my financial, professional and marital life in his hands.

I began, "Adrian, I am begging you."

This prompted him to cut me off immediately.

"This is not the first time that someone has begged me for something. In fact, Sara has begged me many times before. She even kissed my shoes, when she begged me for another orgasm. I could see the desperation in her face when she knelt and kissed my expensive Italian loafers."

"You don't look particularly desperate," he continued. "In fact, I can deduce that your predicament is not bad enough yet, to actually beg me."

I knew he was telling me, in a circuitous manner, to assume the begging position. Gritting my teeth, I lowered myself to my knees in front of this powerful black man, as he watched with a smug look on his face.

Once I was kneeling in front of Adrian, he smirked at me and said, "continue."

"Adrian, I beg you to withdraw the lawsuits you filed against me. I apologize if Sara scratched your car but it certainly wasn't intentional."

Adrian listened without emotion, as I knelt before him and apologized. Sara certainly hadn't intended to damage his door in any way. She had collapsed in a heap after having her final orgasm of the night. She had been on her knees next to his limousine. It was a total accident.

"Surely, she couldn't have inflicted eight thousand dollars worth of damage, by slumping against the side of your car?" I reasoned. "Maybe it will buff out," I added weakly.

Adrian laughed at my last remark, as I was grasping at straws. However, he did agree to consider withdrawing this lawsuit.

"Continue," he said enjoying watching me squirm in front of him, on my knees.

"Would you please withdraw your lawsuit regarding your groin injury? I can't let the insurance company view my security cameras, for obvious reasons. They are refusing to settle the lawsuit or to even defend me. This will bankrupt me."

He laughed and said, "Why do you think my injury occurred in your home-office?"

"Adrian," I continued, "I know you have completely outsmarted me and have me over a barrel."

Then, taking care to show as much deference as I could to this man, I outlined a few other possible reasons for his groin strain.

"Adrian, maybe your groin strain didn't happen when you tripped over my carpet. Maybe it occurred when you had to spread your legs wide apart, to allow Sara to suck your cock under my desk. Maybe it occurred when you put your foot up on my chair, the first time Sara rimmed you. Maybe it occurred when you put your foot on the top of my desk, to allow Sara and I to share the privilege of rimming and blowing you, at the same time."

My obsequious nature was amusing him, and he raised his hand with a smile, to cut me off.

"You make some very compelling arguments. Perhaps you should have been an attorney? That aside, as a financial advisor, I submit to you that part of your financial distress, is due to your frivolous spending. If you do end up going bankrupt and losing everything, the bankruptcy court will take a very dim view of your recent splurge."

"Recent splurge?" I asked, completely unaware of what he was talking about.

"Last night's Honeymoon Suite indulgence," he said smugly. "The last hurrah of a desperate man who knows he is going under. Sometimes criminal charges are filed against people who intentionally stick it to their credit card companies, right before they file for bankruptcy."

"Adrian," I said looking up at him from my kneeling position, "I didn't even stay in that room. You fucking my wife in her schoolgirl uniform, was hardly my last hurrah."

"Semantics," he said dismissively. "The notion that you paid for the Honeymoon Suite for your wife and her black lover to enjoy, is so implausible as a defense against bankruptcy fraud. You would get laughed out of court, and the seedy details of my night with Sara, would become a permanent part of the court record. While that would make a salacious read, I can assure you that you wouldn't want last night documented in a deposition."

I lowered my head as his words rang in my ears.

"Have you even seen Sara's schoolgirl uniform yet?" Adrian asked cruelly. "Even on the dry-cleaning hanger?"

I shook my head to acknowledge that I had yet to even see the Trashy Lingerie schoolgirl ensemble, and its accessories. Adrian laughed aloud at me.

"Two men have already butt-fucked your wife, while she wore that tiny plaid schoolgirl skirt. One of them was a sixty-five year old man. I will send you a photo of Sara dressed up in her schoolgirl uniform, so that you at least know what she looks like when she services me, and the men I share her with."

Moments later I heard my phone ding and Adrian said, "You are welcome," with a smirk. "So easy to send photos these days," he said ominously, alluding to the compromising photos he had of me and Sara.

"Consider the cost of my hotel room, money well spent," he continued. "Twelve hours with your wife completely emptied my nutsack, but it also cleared my head. Sara persuaded me to cut you some slack. As a good faith gesture, I will take my foot off your neck. I will withdraw the lawsuits, and draft up an agreement to release you of any potential future litigation, from me or any of my agents."

I thanked him profusely, and then he started to speak again.

"In exchange for my generous concession, I want three things. First of all, I want you to give my limousine a full detail, to see if the scratch will indeed buff out. Secondly, I want Sara to give me a Kogan Massage once a week, to see if that might help my groin injury. Lastly, I want Sara every weekend."

His demands were so unreasonable, that I wanted to throw up. However, we both knew my answer, before I even nodded my head in agreement. Adrian walked over to his credenza, and selected a Manila envelope, from the pile of files he was working on. He withdrew a typed agreement from the envelope, and handed it to me. I read it on my knees.

The document outlined his plans to withdraw his lawsuits, and to refrain from any future litigation against me. He asked me if I had any questions. I had no clue what a Kogan Massage was. However, I didn't want to ask him, because whatever it involved, Sara was going to do it. I was better off not knowing, I rationalized.

I told him I had no questions, and I nodded my agreement. He took the document from me, and invited me to stand up. I had been kneeling for several moments and my legs were shaky as I stood.

Adrian signed it with a very expensive Waterman pen, his signature as flamboyant as his custom suits. Then, in an attempt to enforce the financial gulf between us, he pushed a small container full of bic pens towards me. I found one that hadn't been chewed too badly, and signed my name next to the section that detailed his weekend rights to my wife.

The disclosure was worded as a request from me, for him to take Sara somewhere nice, every weekend. Somewhere that I couldn't afford. In the comments section, Adrian wrote that I had agreed to detail his limousine. Also that Sara was to provide him with a weekly Kogan Massage, until his groin injury had improved.

We both initialed that area, although I did have some questions about the location, and duration, of the weekly massage. Wisely, I kept them to myself. I had to swallow my pride, as he handed me a copy of our agreement, and dismissed me with a wave of his arm.

When I got to my car, my emotions were all over the place. I was relieved to have the threat of the lawsuits removed, disgusted at myself for being so submissive to him, and worried at what I had committed, on Sara's behalf. I looked up the words Kogan Massage on my phone, and was relieved to find out it was only a testicle Massage. How bad could that be?

I didn't even want to see the picture of Sara in her schoolgirl uniform. However, my curiosity got the better of me, and I opened the attachment. There were actually three pictures of Sara.

The first one was beautiful. Sara was kneeling on the floor of the limousine looking up through her platinum blonde bangs. Her piercing blue eyes contrasted spectacularly with her almost white hair, and her makeup made her look about twenty years old. The crop-top was way too small for her and forced her tits together. The pleated plaid skirt was so short, that I could see her garter-belt straps, and a glimpse of her matching panties. The level of detail was exquisite, little red bows seemingly placed everywhere to feminize Sara. Her hair was in pigtails, which made her look even younger. I adjusted my crotch as I got an erection. I couldn't believe I had come so close to a night in the Honeymoon Suite, with this enticing beauty.

I opened the second attachment and recoiled at the state of my lovely wife. In this photo Sara was looking submissively up at the camera. I immediately noticed semen on her nose and lips. Her eyes were glazed over too, even more than usual. This was the night of her encounter with Sergei, and Sara had taken three ecstasy tablets, instead of two. There was semen splattered across her tits, down the front of her pleated skirt and on her neck. I glanced up at her hair and noticed a large pool of ejaculate matted into her platinum locks. Sara had told me that the photo was staged using a condom full of Sergei's semen. However, Adrian thought it was real to this day and I know it pissed him off. The photo looked very real to me.

The third attachment was the biggest kick in the nuts. In this photo, Sara was looking directly at the camera, with a huge smile on her face, wearing her heavily accessorized schoolgirl costume. She was sitting at a beautiful table adorned with flowers and a large ice bucket, with a bottle of Dom Perignon chilling in it. She had a champagne flute in one hand and was eating a fresh strawberry with whipped cream on it. Apparently, it was taken last night, when Adrian spent $950 of my hard-earned money, entertaining Sara in the Honeymoon Suite.

I don't know how many photos Adrian took in the Honeymoon Suite, before he managed to get this one. However, it revealed so many details of their night together, that I very much doubted that it was by luck. This photo had been meticulously staged, and it was only after I started to zoom in, that I could even see many of the clues.

Right behind Sara there was a big screen television on the wall displaying an interracial porn movie. The screen showed a muscular black man sitting on the edge of a bed, as a young blonde, dressed as schoolgirl, knelt before him and sucked his cock. Her hair was platinum white and arranged in pigtails, a mirror image of what Sara was wearing. I am guessing that this was a scene from the cinematic masterpiece, that he had rented using my credit card, titled, "A blonde schoolgirl takes a black lover."

On the back of one of the chairs that surrounded the table, was draped a pink silk and lace chemise. It looked brand new, and I wondered whether it was the new lingerie that my wife had originally purchased to wear for me, at this hotel. When I zoomed in on this beautiful nightgown, I could see semen all across the top of it. Evidently, Adrian had ejaculated all over my wife as she wore this sexy garment. Then that prick had taken the time to drape it over the chair, in such a way, that I would notice his cum all over it.

As I continued to scan every detail of the photograph, I noticed Sara's slut collar positioned just so, on the back of another chair. Then, in the corner of the photo, her new plaid schoolgirl panties were hanging from the doorknob of the bathroom door. I know they were new, because Sara gave her original pair to Sergei, the night he enjoyed all of her holes!

I spent a few moments alternating between the three photos of my wife. As I took in every lewd detail, I realized that I loved the second photo. It elicited all kinds of sexual responses from me, and I let out a little whimper, as I realized I had just found my new screen-saver. When this nightmare was over, I vowed to come all over Sara's face as she knelt before me, dressed this way.

I also vowed never to kneel before another man again, as long as I lived.