As John recovered from this epic and first sexual experience with Suzanne, the enormity of the event started to impress itself on the mind of Suzanne. Ian was at home waiting for her; wondering what she was doing or being made to do. She had just committed adultery for the first time in her married life, with her husband's best friend and colleague; someone he would see at work the next morning, and who would, she knew, tease Ian with having fucked his wife. She was filled with his sperm, already starting to leak from her gaping pussy as his erection subsided, and coating the inside of her thighs, staining the tops of her stockings. Worse, she had done it because Graham Leicester had told her to. She suddenly realised that she was far more possessed by Graham Leicester, far more submissive to him, than she had ever intended to be. Even in the post-coital wind-down to her very satisfying orgasm, she derived pleasure from doing what he demanded, from pleasing him, from being his to command, and she knew that the next time he commanded her, she would do exactly as he ordered. She was powerless to resist. She admitted to herself, reluctantly, that if he ordered her to abandon her husband and daughter, never to see them again, she must do as he asked, and she knew she would be excited whilst doing it.
The door opened, and Graham Leicester re-entered the room.
THE EMT Chapter Eight
As Suzanne was being tutored by Graham Leicester, and used, at his command, by John, John's best friend and Suzanne's adoring husband, Ian, was alone at home. He had checked on Emma, and had released Ms Pyrford the baby-sitter, who had been quickly whisked away by the ubiquitous company car and chauffeur, and now he sat on the sofa in the study, the room just inside the front door of their house, with a rather large glass of whiskey in his hand.
He still felt humiliated and hurt at the manner of his dismissal from Graham Leicester's apartment. But this was countered by the intense excitement that he felt at the knowledge that his lovely and precious wife was at that moment probably betraying him, and being used by Graham and John.
He nervously got up again, for the fifth or sixth time in half an hour, and paced to the window to look anxiously out into the street for any sign of Suzanne's return. Even as he did this, he reminded himself that it was far too early for her to come home, and his mind ran again with visions of his lovely wife being made available for his friends and work colleagues to use as they wished.
Restlessly, he left the window, gulped at his scotch, then walked over to the desk in the corner of the study, and switched the computer on. Whilst it booted up, he looked at the picture of Suzanne on the wall above the desk; she looked sweet and demure in the photo he had taken during their honeymoon. Her hair was bleached by the Californian sun, and her skin was bronzed and healthy looking. She had smiled at him across the table in the Red Lobster they had discovered for the first time at the end of their second week, and he had snapped one of his favourite pictures of her across the remains of their dinner lying on the table. He remembered the fun they had had that evening; drinking margaritas, the huge plates of fun seafood, the totally unpretentious restaurant; and the young waiter that had taken such a shine to Suzanne and that they had teased so unmercifully.
Now, he thought, Suzanne was being used, and probably abused, in unknown and unthought-of ways only a few miles away, whilst he waited for her to return; nervous with excitement, almost shaking in anticipation of her return, and restless with the conflict of his own emotions.
The Windows opening fanfare claimed his attention, and he mechanically logged on to the computer as he mused further on the developments that had led them to this situation.
He noted new e-mails in his work mail address, and clicked disinterestedly into his in-box, glad of any distraction that would help him pass the time until Suzanne's return. Amongst a few routine mails was one from Karl Solomon, Company Treasurer and Secretary, who he had last seen with his hand on Suzanne's ass at Graham's soiree. The mail was just a few minutes old; he clicked it open, his interest rising.
"Ian,
Sorry we didn't get chance to talk much this evening, but C O N G R A T U L A T I O N S young man, I am delighted that you are joining us at the helm of good old Ruler Electronics as we attempt to steer the old girl into the bright future. I am sure that we will be jointly successful; and your promotion is very well deserved.
Your wife looked absolutely stunning tonight, and I just know that it is going to be a real pleasure to work with you both in the future. I am so looking forward to getting to know her better over the coming weeks β and I know that Graham has a little project in mind for her to work on with me that will ease my burden immensely. From what I saw of her this evening, I already know what an asset she is, and how much in demand her services are likely to be, so I feel privileged that Graham has offered her to me before she gets too intimately involved in things elsewhere in the company. Please thank her for being so charming this evening, and be sure to tell her when you see her how much I look forward to starting our project together over the next few days.
Congratulations again, and welcome to the team,
Karl."
As Ian read through the mail, and then re-read it more carefully, the double meanings, the careful choice of words, the clear (to him) hidden meanings of the message inflamed his already ardent passion, and his erection pressed painfully against his trousers. He sat down at the desk and closed the message, and lowered his head into his hands as he thought again of the implications of his handing over his letter to Graham Leicester.
After a few minutes, Ian returned his attention to the screen, cleaned out a few e-mails, and marked a couple more for action in the morning. All the time, the knowledge that Suzanne was at that moment alone with Graham and John, that she had apparently been promised already to Karl, and that he and his wife were committed to doing exactly as they were told for the next 90 days at least, worked on his imagination.
Ian was finding being excluded from whatever was going on both difficult to deal with, and also intensely exciting. It was a feeling he had felt only once before in his life, and the sudden remembrance of it brought a flush to his cheek.
He had been very young, about 6 or 7 years old, and on holiday with his family at a campsite on the South Coast. They had spent a pleasant evening at the entertainment centre on the campsite, and were walking back to their chalet, late at night. Ian remembered the scene vividly; his parents walking on ahead with his brother and sister, and he lagging a little behind the others. In his pocket was his holiday spending money that had been saved on his behalf and given to him at the very start of the trip. It was the first time he ever remembered being trusted with looking after his own money, and he felt grown up and proud.