Brandon leaned forward and said slowly and menacingly: “You take your pick. Either way, I’ll be ready for you to let me in at nine o’clock tonight.”
Chapter Eight
For the rest of the day, David was in a daze.
He shuffled back from the IT department like a zombie, and then sat in his cubicle staring at a blank screen for what must have been most of the day. In fact, the only human interaction he had was at five o’clock, when Lou – who was still fired up with his new-found access to the sports websites - sauntered past his cubicle and called over the top: “Hey, good work today!”
Ha, David thought. That’s the first time I’ve been praised for my work in months; and it happened on the one day I genuinely didn’t do any work.
At five thirty, David packed his own things into his backpack, and shuffled off to his car in the parking lot. A half hour of stop-start traffic brought his to his driveway, and then he hauled himself up the steps to his front door.
As he unlocked it, he realized he felt like a condemned man.
* * *
“Are you okay, honey?”
Cassie looked worried as David unlocked the door; shoulders slumped in resignation.
“I-I’m fine,” he put on a brave front, and kissed his beautiful wife on the cheek. “Just feeling a little under the weather.”
“Aww, poor baby.” She gave him a hug. “Maybe you need an early night. Just as soon as I’ve finished listening to my tapes, alright?”
David grimaced.
Part of his reason for grimacing was the knowledge that, in just a couple of hours, Brandon would turn up on his doorstep. But pretending that wasn’t the case, David also smarted from the way his wife blithely decided that her sick husband could rest and recuperate only after she’d listened to her tapes.
And while David loved Cassie, and felt awful about what he was potentially about to have done to her, he still felt a hot flash of anger at her attitude; and it made him feel slightly better about the whole Brandon situation.
They ate dinner with little but small talk between them, and then headed off to the living room to watch TV. At eight o’clock, like clockwork, Cassie kissed David on the cheek and told him: “I’m off to listen to my tapes.”
And then David found himself alone on the couch – staring at the clock above his head.
In sixty minutes, he’d hear a knock at the door – and then who knew what would happen?
David couldn’t help it. He sat there and just stared at the clock, at the minute hand as it slowly tick-tick-tocked its way around the clock face. As a kid, he’d heard somebody tell him that the hands on a clock moved too slowly for the human eye to see – but that didn’t stop it from still slowly turning around over the course of the following hour.
And at nine o’clock exactly, there was a rap at the back door.
David jumped, even though he’d spent the last hour expecting it.
Climbing up off the couch, he hurried to the back door as the knocking continued, and unlocked it to find Brandon there grinning eagerly.
“Hey, buddy,” the big black man beamed. “What took you so long?”
David wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
“Come inside,” he snapped.
“Okay, okay,” Brandon played it cool, as he stepped past David and into the kitchen. “I’m just here to get my end of the bargain. We still cool, brother?”
David glowered at him – giving the unspoken message that they had never been cool when it came to this.
But Brandon’s reaction suggested he really didn’t care one way or another. He shrugged off his coat.
“So… We gonna do this, or you want to drink a beer first?”
David’s eyes widened. It was bad enough this big, black bastard wanted to feel up his sleeping wife. Now he wanted to make small talk, too?
“Come on,” David led him into the living room.
At the door to the bedroom, David’s hand hovered over the door handle. Then he froze.
“What is it?”
“Give me your hands,” David snapped.
“You what?”
“Give me your hands!”
“Dude, that’s some gay shit right there.”
“Just let me hold your hands for a second,” David snapped – and when Brandon reluctantly offered up his big hands, David felt them and they were cold.
“You were outside,” the smaller man explained, marvelling at how big and rough and calloused Brandon’s hands were. “They’re like blocks of ice. If you touch her with those, she’ll wake up for sure.”
“Oh,” Brandon seemed to get it. “Alright, no problem.” He began to rub his hands together, and then tucked them under his armpits.
Eventually, when he was convinced they’d be warm enough, Brandon pulled his hands out and presented them to David. The smaller man touched them.
“Okay,” he growled. “Now be quiet, okay? Really fucking quiet.”
Brandon nodded eagerly, and watched as David opened the door to the bedroom with a soft ‘click.’
The light from the living room bathed the bedroom; and illuminated Cassie as she lay sleeping on the bed.
David felt his stomach tie itself into knots. His wife looked like a sleeping angel lying there; and he was about to let this beast – this big, black animal – lay his hands on her.
But what choice did he have?
“C’mon,” David hissed, and he beckoned Brandon to the side of the bed.
The big man listened, and fell to his knees beside the bed eagerly.
David felt revolted by what he did next – but he also felt exhilarated. Like a boy again, when he and his schoolmates had spied in on the girl’s locker room. It was deeply, disgustingly unethical. But it was also kind of hot.
Lifting the covers, David peeled back the comforter to reveal inch after inch of his sleeping wife’s body. Brandon watched, his eyes widening.
“Goddamn,” the big black man breathed. “She’s fucking beautiful.”
David felt a stab of pride, and the corner of his lips curled.
“O-okay,” Brandon murmured, and he held up his hands. “C-can I… Can I touch her?”
David looked at him; and for the first time in their weird relationship, he actually felt power over the other man. And he suddenly felt his cock swell in his pants.
“G-go on,” David ordered.
And then he watched as Brandon Brown – a heavy-set black man he’d barely spoken to until the previous Friday night – reached trembling fingers out and held them above his wife’s bare, pale breasts.
Brandon looked at David, as if demanding permission. And David nodded.
Brandon’s lips curled.
And then he cupped Cassie’s beautiful breasts, and squeezed.
David’s eyes widened, and his cock throbbed, as he saw Brandon’s big, brown hands squeeze the tender white flesh of his wife’s breasts. The contrast was electric. It looked so fucking sexy.
And so was the look in Brandon’s eyes, as he massaged Cassie’s tits. He licked his thick, brown lips, and rubbed his big thumbs over her nipples, until they hardened like little nubs at the pressure.
“Fuuuck, man,” Brandon grinned, looking up at David for approval. “Man, your wife’s titties feel fucking amazing.”
David grinned in pride. Yeah, he thought to himself. They do.
And then, without his brain giving his mouth permission, David whispered: “If you think her tits feel good, you should feel her pussy.”
Brandon immediately froze, and his big head turned to David as if to demand he repeat what he’d thought the smaller man had just said.
“Yeah,” David nodded. “Feel her pussy. Go on.”
Brandon’s smile widened obscenely; and then he lifted one hand from Cassie’s breast, and traced a path down the softness of her stomach, to her neatly trimmed ‘v’ of public hair.
One of his big, black fingers slipped between Cassie’s thighs. And then she moaned.
Both Brandon and David froze in horror, snapping their necks to look at her face for any sign of consciousness.
But while Cassie’s breathing had deepened, and her mouth had parted a little, she still appeared to be asleep.
Brandon grinned again, and he moved his hand.
One of his big, thick fingers slid between the lips of Cassie’s pussy, and rubbed up and down until it glistened with moisture.
Then he added another.
Still sleeping, Cassie’s breathe deepened.
Brandon started to scissor his hand up and down between Cassie’s legs, and then his thumb started circling her clitoris. In response, the unconscious wife’s thighs parted, and she shifted her hips a little; as if offering herself to the hand between her legs.
David’s eyes grew wide, as he watched Brandon work.
Moments later, the man’s big fingers slipped inside Cassie, and while she remained asleep, it was clear she was almost humping his hand, as he rubbed her clit.
Fuuuck, thought David. He was being hit with a one-two punch. On one hand, he was burning with jealousy at the thought of another man pleasuring his wife so expertly. And then, on the other, he couldn’t believe how fucking hot it looked.
Brandon’s big, thick fingers – so dark and leathery – disappeared in and out of his sleeping wife’s hungry pussy, glistening with lubrication. His big thumb circled her clit expertly. The contrast against her pale white skin was incredible.
David couldn’t help himself. He suddenly started wondering what Brandon’s cock would look like; slipping inside of his wife’s beautiful body.
The sound of Cassie moaning shook him out of his thoughts. She was still sleeping – still unconscious – but she was grinding her hips against Brandon’s hand and it looked like she was about to…
About to…
“Ahhhhhhhhh….”
The sound that emerged from Cassie’s mouth was barely above a murmur; but it was unmistakable. It was a sound David had only heard a few times in his marriage to his beautiful wife.
The sound of her cumming.
And as his sleeping wife orgasmed, David was hit with a sudden wave of shame. This was his wife. He should be the one making her cum. Instead it was this… this…
And then, to make it worse, there was a flash of light from Brandon’s other hand. David looked back and saw that the big black man had whipped out his cell phone for a second time and was recording the action.
“Okay,” David snapped. “Enough.” And when Brandon didn’t stop fingering his sleeping wife, the smaller man slapped Brandon on the arm – hard.
“Okay, okay,” with a wet-sounding slurp, Brandon pulled his thick fingers from inside Cassie’s pussy. They came away glistening and wet. The big, black man lifted them to his nose and took a deep, lascivious sniff.
“Mmmmm,” Brandon beamed. “Smells good.”
“Get out,” David hissed. “Get out, get out, get out.” And then he hustled Brandon out of the bedroom and left his naked wife lying uncovered on the bed; her legs splayed and her pussy glistening.
Back in the living room, David pushed shut the bedroom door with a ‘click’ and then turned to Brandon.
“Give me that phone,” he demanded.
“You what?” Brandon looked innocently at the cell phone in his hand. “This lil’ thing? I was just taking a few snaps.” He then turned to David and his lips narrowed. “Y’ain’t getting it, you hear?”
“Well,” David flustered, “Delete them, you promise?” And then his anxiety got the better of him. “You’ve got to leave,” he snapped.
Brandon peered at him, and again lifted his glistening fingers to his nose and sniffed them. And then, to add insult to injury, he licked them.
“Mmmmmmm,” Brandon beamed. “Tastes good.”
“C’mon,” David snapped. “A deal’s a deal. You got what you came for.”
“That I did, brother,” Brandon beamed. “And more.”
“So you gotta leave,” David insisted. “Go on. There’s the door.”
“Okay, okay,” Brandon nodded, scrambling for his coat. “Are we cool, brother?”
David didn’t know how to answer that, so he just mumbled: “Yeah.” And the next thing he knew, he was hustling Brandon out of the back door and slamming it shut behind him.
The last thing he heard was Brandon calling through the door: “See you tomorrow.”
And then David slumped against the kitchen counter, chest heaving.
His head swam. What the fuck had just happened? What had he just watched? What had he just done?
He’d just let some big, black stranger come into his house and finger his wife - until she came, grinding her hips like a whore.
And the worst thing? David liked it.
He hadn’t rushed Brandon out of the house because he was disgusted, or angry, or ashamed. He’d forced him out of the house, because David had a raging hard-on in his pants, and he needed to do something about it.
David unbuckled his belt. He tore off his pants. He practically ripped off his shirt – buttons pinging around the room. And then he strode down the corridor, swung open the door to the bedroom, and pounced on the bed like an animal.
Cassie was still unconscious – her face as serene as an angel’s. But her thighs were spread open, and her bare pussy was glistening and wet from where Brandon had fingered her.
David clambered onto the bed, and slipped between her legs. He grabbed the base of his throbbing cock and aimed it for her pussy – knowing that he’d slip inside her like a hot knife through butter. And then he thrust.
As his cock sunk inside Cassie’s tightness, a vision of Brandon’s fingers crammed inside his wife’s pussy flashed inside David’s head. He was struck simultaneously by jealousy and arousal – anger and need. He fucked her, hard. He thrust deeply inside his wife’s body, almost oblivious to the risk of waking her up.
But she didn’t wake up – not even as David’s thrusts rocked her back and forth on the bed, and made her beautiful breasts jiggle. She didn’t wake up when he grabbed one of her bouncing tits, and squeezed it in his hand. He remembered the contrast between Brandon’s dark skin and hers, and the image made his cock swell.
God, David thought to himself. What would it look like to see Brandon fucking his wife? If it was his big, dark body between her thighs? How would it look to see Brandon’s thick, brown cock buried balls-deep inside of David’s beautiful wife?
David groaned, as the mental image tipped him over the edge. His last thought was imagining Brandon cumming inside of Cassie; unloading his big, black balls inside his precious wife. And that mental image made him explode – burying his cock as deeply inside his wife as he could, and flooding her with cum.
And it was only then, as his balls drained, that a level head returned to David. Post climax, he came crashing back to reality, and realized everything he’d done that night.
Still buried inside Cassie, his cock softening with each passing second, he looked down and saw her hair all messed up, and her pale breasts pink and red with finger marks and bruises.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered, pulling out of her. Cum dribbled onto the sheets, flowing down between her buttocks.
Cassie was still unconscious, but she was a dishevelled mess. She looked freshly fucked; and even David knew that if she woke up like this the following morning, she’d know something had happened.
So desperately, he tried to clean her up.
Flustered and naked, he brushed her hair straight, and then grabbed for the box of Kleenex on the dresser.
Empty!
Snarling, David yanked open the dresser drawers looking for another box. He found one, still in its cellophane, and as he wrenched it out of the draw he dislodged something wedged up behind it.
An orange prescription pill bottle – the type you get from a pharmacy – rolled into view. It looked familiar - they had a few of them in the cabinet above the sink back in the bathroom.
So
why was this one hidden in the drawer?
For a second, David forget his desperate search for tissues and stared at the pill bottle. Then, with trembling fingers, he picked it up, out of the drawer, and read the label.
Zolpidem, 10mg
David worked for a company that had a pharmaceutical wing, so he knew what these pills were – a generic form of Ambien, at the maximum dose. Enough to knock somebody out for a few hours; which explained why Cassie had just been lying there, oblivious to whatever happened to her.
He knew that drugs that initiated sleep were known as “hypnotics” which perhaps explained why Cassie was taking them while she listened to those hypnosis tapes… But it didn’t explain why she was taking them – but it did suddenly explain why he’d been able to subject his beautiful wife to all the things he had over the last couple of weeks. She was drugging herself…
David shook his head.
This was a puzzle for another time. He had other priorities.
Throwing the bottle back in the drawer, David grabbed a clump of tissues and span back to where Cassie was lying on the bed. He spread her pale, beautiful thighs; her pink, freshly-fucked pussy opening as he did so, and a fresh dribble of pearlescent white cum pouring down the cheeks of her ass.
David wiped it away. As he did so, he had a sudden flash in his imagination of what it might be like if it wasn’t his cum he was cleaning from his wife’s cunt. If it had been Brandon’s… If he’d just watched the big, black man fuck his wife, instead of him.
And he was ashamed at how his recently-drained cock still throbbed just at the thought.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, David barely touched his coffee.
He sat on the stool in their kitchen waiting, breathlessly, for Cassie to come padding out of the kitchen.
Would she realize what he’d done? He’d tried his best to clean her up; to leave her so she wouldn’t know what he’d subjected her to. But was it enough?
And then he heard the whistling, and realized that it must have been.
Out of the bedroom padded Cassie, in her robe.
“Morning, Sweetheart,” she beamed. Then she reached down and rubbed just above her crotch through her robe. “Man, I think my time of the month must be coming. I’m kind of achy down there.”
Another Cheating Wife Bundle!: Sexy 3-Story Erotic Collection Page 4
