The Last To Know - What I Did Before We Dated

by Bridy McAvoy

  “But—”

  “If you stain this dress, there’re three major sources of embarrassment for you. Firstly, you’ll be driving home in it. Secondly, there’s the embarrassment of having the dry-cleaners take the stain out. I expect you to wear it next week, so you’d have to get it cleaned. Thirdly, and more importantly, you won’t be going home on time tonight. The board is meeting at five, here, and they’ve asked me to pass on their invitation for you to sit in on the meeting. Imagine how embarrassing that would be?”

  “But, my other clothes—”

  “Are safely locked inside my desk until the morning. You can come in early and change into them before we open the doors. Understood?”

  Did I understand? Yes. Was I terrified? Absolutely. Last week I’d been covered in drool, spunk and sick. Now I had to do the same thing, but this time stop myself from dribbling, swallow his cum and not puke up? You bet I was terrified. But what could I do as he nudged forward, his cock touching my teeth as the head slid in and onto my tongue.

  I tried hard not to shudder, and quickly closed my lips behind the ridge at the back of the head of his cock, creating a seal. That, of course, created some suction and he groaned in response. I felt his cock twitch, and I guess at that moment I realized I wasn’t entirely powerless in this situation. In fact, the closer he came to cumming, the more control I had.

  With my lips sealed I felt my mouth flood with saliva. This time, though, I just swallowed. My stomach didn’t object, even though there was some pre-cum mixed in with the saliva. He pushed in a little bit more and I fought hard not to gag—succeeded, but only by swallowing hard, sucking hard, in order to clear my mouth of the fluid I didn’t dare let escape.

  Mr. Bryant groaned again, that suction stimulating him. I was scared he was going to push further in again. I knew that would make me gag, but he didn’t, content to let me set the pace. I could feel my lips getting wet on the outside, and I was scared he’d make good on the threat of making me wear a stained dress to my very first board meeting. I continued sucking on him for a few seconds then pulled off, surprising him. My hand wrapped around the wet end of his cock, preventing it from dripping on me, my head tilted back in an effort to not dribble myself.

  “Please…let me have some tissues. I’m trying, but it’s not easy.”

  He held out a packet of tissues to me—he’d obviously been expecting this very reaction, or he’d been about to wipe my chin for himself. I only had one free hand so looked at him, helplessly. He chuckled and pulled out a tissue and wiped my chin and around my mouth. He even gently wiped my fingers where I was holding his wet cock.

  “Thank you.”

  At that point I guess I realized he was pushing me, testing my limits, but not actually going to humiliate me by making me attend the board meeting in a grossly marked dress. After all, that would have affected his reputation.

  “Ah, I see the penny has dropped. Finally, you’re starting to catch on. I knew you were bright. You may stand up and take the dress off, then resume your position. I expect you to blow me properly though, not too much drool, and no spitting. Especially no puking or crying. Deal?”

  I nodded, and he stepped back, allowing me to stand and wipe my hand clean on yet another tissue before taking the dress off. I just laid it over the back of his visitor’s chair and stepped back into the space in front of him. This time, though, he was leaning back against the front edge of his desk so I had to kneel closer to it than before.

  “You were giving great head there, baby, so keep doing the same thing. Just use your tongue a little more. You can wrap your hand round my dick if you want and caress it like you did when you jerked me off? Okay?”

  I smiled—after all, he’d just given me a reprieve. Now, though, I had to deliver on my end of the devil’s bargain. As I knelt in front of him my bra seemed to hang forward, exposing rather more breast than it had earlier. I mentally shrugged—after all, the week before I’d been naked when I’d been doing this, so did it matter?

  Once more my mouth engulfed the end of his cock and my lips sealed around the shaft behind the head. My hand wrapped around the shaft as well and I started a gentle pumping action with my fingers. I sucked hard, getting rid of what felt like a gallon of saliva and tasted his pre-cum again. Unlike the week before, he stayed still, not moving, and within about a minute I found my head bobbing slightly up and down as I altered the depth of penetration into my mouth. I guess I had a little epiphany at that moment. I was doing what he wanted—giving him a blow-job, sucking his cock. I’d become a cock-sucker!

  I shivered at the thought and moaned around the cock in my mouth. The sudden thought of myself in such crude terms sparked my own arousal. My panties seemed to flood with juices as I got into it. It was strange really. The first time had been a disaster, literally, but this time I was getting turned on by the experience. It made no sense.

  Mr. Bryant, though, wasn’t going to look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth. He could see I was getting into it. He reached down, pushed the cups of my bra off my breasts, felt for and found my nipples. He squeezed them and I groaned, my mouth relaxing and my bobbing increasing, taking another inch of him into my mouth. As he continued to squeeze and maul my breasts, pulling and pinching my nipples, I found myself getting into it. I was breathing through my nose and I could feel as much as hear the moans I was making deep in my throat.

  I guess those moans were translating as vibrations into his cock and as I kept sucking it I realized he was grunting as well. Lifting my eyes, I looked up into his face, and saw his face was red, his mouth hanging open as he looked down at me. He was as turned on as he had been the previous week, and I guessed he was close to the edge.

  I almost panicked as I felt the head of his cock expand a little in my mouth. He let go of my breasts, lifted his hands to the top of my head and held me still. I squirmed, desperate to get away, but kept my lips sealed around his shaft. Suddenly he came, a fierce jet of spunk. It hit the back of my mouth and splashed everywhere, even into the top of my throat. He held me still as he fired blast after blast into my mouth.

  My mouth was full, and I only had two choices. I could open my mouth and let it out, spit it out, or I could do what I knew he wanted me to. I swallowed it. I didn’t dare do anything else. In a moment of perfect clarity I realized the library board would be meeting in this room in a couple of hours. I couldn’t—didn’t—dare let them find a patch of wet carpet in front of his desk, a wet slimy patch where I’d spit out his cum. If I wanted a career, if I didn’t want to be fired, I had to swallow.

  It was crazy, completely the wrong thing to do. I could have brazened it out, told them he’d been taking advantage of a poor innocent woman—or rather, girl—like me. After all, I could back that up by a simple doctor’s report. I couldn’t be a cock-sucking slut if I was still a virgin? Who would believe any story he made up?

  Instead, I swallowed it down, one mouthful and then another, as saliva flooded the space, then it was gone. This time my stomach didn’t heave and I didn’t feel sick. The taste wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t pleasant, not as pleasant as I found it later, but not too bad.

  After a minute or so he let go of the back of my head and I pulled away from him, leaning back, taking my weight on my hands as I panted for air. I must have looked a wanton sight as I leaned back there, my bra below my breasts covered in his red finger marks, my chest heaving as I gasped. My nipples were so hard, if he’d touched them right then I’d have cum myself.

  Mr. Bryant, though, had other ideas. Before I was truly aware of what he was doing, he’d stepped around me, grabbed me under the armpits and, in one smooth motion, lifted me to my feet. The next moment he’d spun me round in his arms and boosted me to sit on his desk. He pushed against my shoulder and I leaned back, ending up taking my weight on my elbows as he stood between my legs.

  I panicked as I thought he was about to fuck me, forgetting he probably couldn’t—after all, he’d only just cum, and he wasn’t
a young man. “Wait… Don’t…the pills…”

  “I know, baby, the pills take at least fourteen days to be effective, and that’s measured from your next bleed. So don’t panic.” He chuckled. “I can’t anyway, you just sucked me dry. I’m just going to return the favor.”

  “Return the favor?”

  “Just enjoy this, baby. I know I will.”

  Before I could stop him he had his hands between my legs, pushing my thighs apart, adjusting my position so my pussy was right where he wanted it. Then, without warning, he bent his head and licked the front of my panties from the bottom of my slit, all the way to the top, pressing his tongue against my still-sheathed clit. I yelled, partly in surprise, and partly in sheer passion as sparks flew through my system. I’d been aroused before he touched me down there, but now I was off the chart. He did it again, and this time my hips left the desk to meet his tongue.

  I came before he pulled my panties to one side and attacked the bare shaven lips of my pussy. He pushed his tongue between the outer folds, using his fingers to spread my lips apart, and pulled the sheath back, exposing the tip of my clit. I’m pretty sure I came three times before he let up, although it might have been four.

  When he stood up, I was putty in his hands, and he was hard again. I’m sure if he’d tried to fuck me at that point, to take my virginity, I’d have let him. Mr. Bryant, though, was more careful, more logical than me. He knew the pills couldn’t be working yet, and he wasn’t going to get me pregnant. That scandal he couldn’t survive.

  “Suck me off again, baby.”

  I don’t think it took me two seconds to get from the desk to the floor on my knees with his cock enveloped in my mouth. I didn’t use my hand this time, I just kept sucking him in. Did I ever suck him! My hands grabbed his hips to brace myself, and the next thing I knew the end of his cock was touching the back of my mouth—and I wasn’t gagging.

  Despite having cum only minutes before, he didn’t take long.

  I sat back on my haunches again, then reached round and unclipped my bra. It was an open invitation for him to do more, to take it all, but he just shook his head.

  “Baby, you were fabulous. Better than I could have hoped for. For now, though, we need to get cleaned up and presentable.” I realized his features were shining in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the skylight—my juices painted his face. My makeup would be smeared too, and before I spoke to anyone, I needed to get my teeth cleaned. “Samantha, use the ladies washroom, and I’ll use the gents. You may find this a help.”

  He’d gone round behind his desk and reached into one of the drawers, retrieving a bottle of strong mint mouthwash.

  “Just put it outside the washroom door. I’ll need to use it too, but ladies first.”

  “Thanks.”

  I reached for my bra, but he stopped me.

  “You just offered that to me. I might, and I mean, might, let you have it back in a little while.”

  I glanced up at the clock, it was already half past three. I had no idea so much time had passed, and some of the board had a habit of turning up early.

  “But—”

  “I was kidding. Go get cleaned up and dressed. You can take everything through to the washroom, or leave them in here where you’ve got more space. Up to you.”

  I grabbed the bra from one hand, the bottle of mouthwash from the other, and dashed for the washroom. I used the mouthwash, then popped back out, knocked on the door to the gents, and when he opened the door, handed him the bottle. “Thanks.”

  “No bother.” His eyes were fixed on my still naked breasts.

  Before returning, I returned to my own desk, grabbing my purse so I could redo my makeup and managed that in about five minutes flat. Ten minutes later, when he emerged from the gents’ washroom, I was just pulling my dress up. I’d tightened the back strap of the bra before putting it on, just to be sure I was secure.

  “Let me get the zip for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  We were both decent, and it looked like nothing had been happening in there that was untoward. Then he chuckled and pointed toward the top of his desk. There was a patch of wet on the inset leather. It was much darker than the surrounding area. I could see it was right where my butt had been—it was my juices, leaked there when he’d eaten me to one orgasm after another.

  “What are we going to do? We can’t just leave it.”

  “Shhh… It’s okay, Sammie. It’s okay. If anyone asks, just tell them it’s coffee. In fact, go and get some coffee and cover the stain with it then blot it up. If someone decides to test it, it really will be coffee—a little sweet for their tastes, but definitely coffee.

  I blushed bright red. I knew what he meant by saying it would be sweet—it would have been the taste of me, not sugar.

  The rest of the day passed in a daze. The board members—I’d met them all before—were gracious, and when I spoke up on a couple of issues, they listened to my opinion. Mind you, they only voted my way when my opinion agreed with Mr. Bryant’s, but it had been good to feel listened to. I went home that night on cloud nine. I’d been involved with the board, I was actually ahead on my studies, and I’d just had the best set of orgasms of my, as yet, inexperienced sex life. Mr. Bryant had called me a fabulous cock-sucker. Life felt good—not that I particularly liked that last label, but it felt nice, even so.

  The next few weeks kind of fell into a pattern. I’d strip down to my underwear and blow him, taking him deeper and deeper every time. Then he’d strip me naked, lay me down on his desk—and once on my own desk—and eat me to a series of orgasms until he was hard again. Then I’d suck him off again. After about three weeks I managed to take him into my throat and he went wild. He celebrated by dragging me into the stacks at the back and eating me, with me braced against the anthropology books. I think I must have dislodged quite a lot as I thrashed on his tongue. It took us ten minutes or so afterward to get them stacked properly again.

  I didn’t realize it, but he was waiting his time. He knew when my period would be, and he was counting down the weeks until my birth-control was effective. He was going to take our affair onto the next logical level. Actually I did know, somewhere at the back of my mind, but I dismissed it. I wasn’t in love with him, I knew that. I was, however, in some kind of lust with him. He knew he had me where he wanted me—I’d have done anything for him, anything he wanted. Indeed, he’d taken to keeping me a little late after locking up the library on a Monday, and getting me to blow him. Nothing else, just a quick suck and swallow—he had to get home for dinner with his family. I knew he was widowed, of course—I’d known that for some time—but his daughter, who I knew slightly, although we’d never been friends, cooked for him and her two brothers. It wouldn’t do for him to be too late.

  Chapter Six – The Next Step

  “Tell me something, Sammie.”

  She looked up at me, and I could see a well of emotion behind her eyes. I’d been surprised to find I’d calmed down from my earlier fury. Sure, I wanted to go and dig up a certain casket and then chop the contents into little pieces, but I knew I wouldn’t do it. I wanted to throttle my wife too, a visceral need, but at the same time that was also off my agenda. My mind was working at a million miles an hour, and I wanted answers she hadn’t given.

  “Anything, honey, you know that.”

  I shook my head, unable to resist sinking a barb into her psyche. “So far, I’ve found our relationship has been based on one lie after another, so no, I don’t know that.”

  My voice came out flat and level, no emotional content or overtones. Nevertheless she winced at my words. Tears welled, but she shook her head and closed her eyes for a second and, when she opened them again, they were clear. It was a trick I’d seen her do before. I don’t know how she did it, but she could turn it off like a switch—sometimes.

  “Tell me one thing. Why, when you came home, did you blow me then fuck me till dinner was ready, knowing this was what you would be tell
ing me?”

  She shivered. I’d deliberately used the word ‘fuck’ not ‘make love’, our normal term for sex, and she’d noticed that change. I watched as she sat there in silence for a few seconds, looking down at the floor. When she looked at me, her eyes were piercing. When she spoke, her voice, like mine, was flat, although the overtones suggested a whole lot of pent-up emotion dammed up in there.

  “It may surprise you, but you’re still the center of my world. I love you, and always will, whatever the outcome here. If you walked away, I wanted you to have one last happy memory of us together, of how good we were together.”

  She paused, waiting for me to speak, but I stayed quiet. Emotions raged through me, anger, rage, but at the same time an undying love for my wife. The conflict stayed internal and I tried hard to keep my face impassive. After a few moments she spoke again.

  “Honey, there are three things in my life that matter to me—this house, with its connections back to my parents, my childhood. Secondly there’s the library, I love my job. Thirdly, there’s you, you complete me. I know it sounds corny, but it’s true. If I had to give up two to keep the third, I’d choose you in a heartbeat. I’d walk away from the home and job I love for you. I’ve already lost the job. I’ll never be able to set foot in that library again.”

  I knew that had to hurt. She’d been instrumental in getting the new library built last year, forcing the board, city and state authorities to cough up the money for the large glass and steel edifice that sat in mid-town, a block from the site where the old library had stood. I knew, now, why the whole place was open plan, and why the chief librarian’s office, her office, had glass walls on three sides. Frank Bryant had opened it in her honor, but deferred to her to give the main speech. Now her life’s work was ashes to her. A plan was forming in my head as to how to deal with that. The rest, though, our marriage, was infinitely harder.

  “Give me a minute.”