Mature The Stimulus Plan Slut

As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely within the confines of the story and my imagination. Enjoy! Oh, and again, if you hate cuckold stories, stop now...you've been warned!

I think I fussed over this dinner more than I haveA ever done for our Thanksgiving, Christmas or Easter dinners in years past. I had prepared a roast and potatoes as well as my mama's coleslaw and my own creamed corn. For desert, I'd fixed a chocolate meringue pie – my specialty, always in high demand at Church suppers and the kids' bake sales. Our dinner table was set with our best china and silverware – I even got out the good linen napkins that rarely saw the light of day outside of Christmas dinner.

I wasn't wearing my Sunday best for the dinner, but rather a new dress I'd picked up the day before – a simple black dress, modest compared to many of my working outfits, with the hem a mere four inches above the knee and displaying only a little cleavage in its mild scoop neck, accented by the double strands of good, but fake pearls my mother had left to me. The fabric molded itself to my braless breasts, my nipples swollen and hard, making prominently displayed bumps. Beneath my dress, my lacy black panties were already soaked and I feared that at any moment I would feel the warm trickle of pussy juice running down my thigh.

Donnie lingered nearby, wandering into the dining room or the kitchen to give me looks of disgust and anger on occasion, the words "whore," "slut," or "cunt," always on his lips and occasionally wafting to my ear in his venomous hisses. At least he'd put on dress shirt and his good slacks and looked presentable. I would smile back at him and tell him I loved him, occasionally glancing down to confirm the hint of an erection tenting his pants.

With the food prepared and looking absolutely delicious, the younger kids staying overnight with friends and my oldest daughter, Tara, about to leave to spend the night with her best friend and myself looking hopefully elegant and a little sexy, I glanced at the clock. It was just a few minutes shy of six o'clock in the evening and I let loose with a little sigh of relief.

As the old grandfather clock in the living room struck six, its chimes were countered by the ringing of the front door bell. He was here! I met Donnie in the hallway, his expression stormy and his fists balled in anger. "You fucking whore," he growled. "I can't believe you really did it. You invited that motherfucker to dinner in my house."

I stood on tiptoe and bussed my husband on the cheek. "Our house, Donnie...that I'm paying for at the moment, thanks to him." I walked on by him and then glanced over my shoulder, smiling happily as I said, "Well, c'mon. Let's greet our guest."

With Donnie slowly following me, I opened up the front door, my heart beating very quickly with excitement that I could feel all the way down to my loins which were pulsating with arousal. Our guest stood there and his appraising glance of me sent quivers of desire through me as I said happily, "Good evening, Mister Richards. Welcome to our home."

"Mister Richards, would you like to come to dinner at our house Saturday night?"

I was standing at the door, about to leave the office of my bank manager, Mister Richards, feeling a bit nervous – almost like an awkward teenage girl asking a boy to go on a date. I was already feeling strange simply because during my entire visit, I had stayed dressed, sitting in a plush chair in front of his desk, chatting about my recent visit to Key West and my whorish triumph there.

I had arrived with the hope – no, hunger and need to suck the older man's cock, something I had done twice a week for nearly a year without fail, but under doctor's orders and the command of one of my more influential patrons, Gustav Stockman, I had been chaste for nearly three weeks – the recovery time deemed necessary after having sucked and fucked one hundred and eight loads from my winning a gang bang competition.

My employer had declined my offer to resume sucking his dick a few days early and had instead spent almost half an hour praising my sluttish ways, having revealed that he'd seen a recording of my gang bang victory. It didn't upset me that copies of the DVD of my gang bang were being passed around – in fact, it made me even hornier. Finally, Mister Richards had dismissed me with a heavy sigh, a regretful glance at his pocket watch and then telling me, "I look forward to seeing you on Tuesday, my dear Sonya."

I had gotten up and was at the door when I paused and turned back and worked up the nerve to invite him to dinner. Mister Richards looked at me for a long moment, studying me. "You mean, me coming to your house socially...outside of our business relationship?"

I nodded and said, "Absolutely. I would very much like to show my appreciation for all you've done for me and my family. I'm a good cook and...well, you already know where my other talents lie."

What our business was and where my talents lay was that for the past year, I had served Mister Richards and a cabal of well off citizens of our town as a whore, offering sex in exchange for keeping our mortgage paid – the recession having cost me my job, and almost costing my family the roof over their head. My husband's job had been cut back to almost half-time and we'd have never stayed afloat without my whoring paying for the mortgage and the substantial tips I got with nearly every job I was sent on.

Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays, I received assignments and on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I would give Mister Richards a loving blowjob. Strangely, he had never attempted anything more...staying as it were within the agreement we had established for our "business" relationship. It had taken the insight of one of my favorite customer's daughter, Jane Stockman, to make me understand that Mister Richards would never expand on our activities within the confines of our agreement. From that simple explanation, an idea had been born in my mind, one that had grown over the last couple of weeks, complete with all the ramifications it entailed. Indeed, it had been some of those ramifications that had spurred me all the more to ask Mister Richards to come to dinner.

Mister Richards studied me for a long minute, his intense gaze making me wet for him. I'm sure some people would find it amazing that I harbored such ardent desires for a man hovering around sixty years old, with a pot belly and greatly thinning hair, a seemingly ordinary man. But...there was something about him, something that spoke deeply to the sluttish side of me...a confidence and a power that had captivated me since the day he had proposed I become a whore and work for him and his cabal and had then proceeded to command me to strip naked and suck his cock. Since that first moment when he'd awakened that realization about myself, I had ached to be his...to do whatever he bid me do.

Mister Richards smiled and nodded. "I think I'd enjoy such an evening very much. What time should I arrive, Sonya?"

I licked my lips as every fiber of my being wanted to crow with joy that he'd said, "Yes," and I replied, "Would six o'clock be good for you, sir?"

He nodded and said, "Wonderful, my dear." I turned to go, but paused when he called out, "Sonya, will your husband be there?"

I looked back at him, willing myself to sound calm as I replied, "Would you like him to be there, Mister Richards?" and then silently prayed for the him to give me the answer I wanted.

I think my employer could read my desire on my face because he gave me a big grin and replied, "Absolutely, Sonya. I think that would be most appropriate for the occasion. See you, Saturday."

I walked away, barely noticing his receptionist, Lily Fox smiling speculatively at me as I left, so desperate was I to get to my car and get my hands under my dress. In the bank parking lot, sitting in my car, I had my fingers plunging in and out of my pussy, sobbing with pleasure as I thought of what I had done!

My announcement to my husband that we would be hosting our bank manager to dinner triggered the loudest and angriest argument of our marriage – so ugly that Tara had without bidding, had shepherded the younger kids into her compact car and had taken them out for ice cream while her father blew his top.

"NO WAY, YOU FUCKING WHORE, IS THAT MAN COMING IN MY FUCKING HOUSE. I SUPPOSE YOU WANT TO FEED HIM AND FUCK HIM TOO! I'LL BURN THIS FUCKING PLACE DOWN FIRST!" he had screamed, his voice becoming shriller with each word.

I stepped up into Donnie's face and said firmly back, screaming at the top of my voice, "IT'S OUR HOUSE, DONNIE AND IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED, THE ONLY REASON WE'RE STILL HERE IS BECAUSE OF MY WHORING WAYS. WE OWE THAT MAN EVERYTHING AND HE'S COMING TO DINNER AND IF HE WANTS TO FUCK ME UP THE ASS ON TOP OF THE DINNER TABLE, YOU'LL LICK MY ASS SO HE CAN SLIDE HIS COCK RIGHT IN!"

The yelling went on for awhile, with the usual variations about me being a slut and whore and me reminding him of who was the real breadwinner now. The argument came to an abrupt end when I suddenly reached out and grabbed Donnie's crotch, confirming my suspicions about him being erect.

"He's coming to dinner, Donnie, that's all there is to it." I said in a calmer voice. I squeezed his cock through his slacks, "You can call me a whore and fuck slut all you want. We both know it's the truth, but we also both know that deep down, you like me this way. The thought of having Mister Richards over to dinner and whatever else he wants, excites you. Hell, Donnie, you're ready to cum in pants right now!"

My words burst the balloon that was Donnie's righteous indignation and for a moment I thought he would cry as his face clouded over with shame, but I knew that once again, I'd hit the nail on the head. Whatever else my husband felt about my being a slut for hire, there was a part of him that was aroused by being cuckolded and now for the first time since this had all began, he faced the possibility of seeing it done first hand.

I stepped into my husband's arms at that moment and kissed him, his lips reluctantly opening up to my probing tongue. I would have liked to have fucked him right on the spot...I was almost at three weeks without cock and so horny, but I knew that he wouldn't...I'm not sure he could anymore without knowing that another man had first been with me sexually. When the kiss ended, I whispered, "I am a fucking whore, Donnie, but I am your fucking whore. I love you and I know you love me." I finished the kiss and then turned to leave for the kitchen to inspect the contents of the refrigerator. I looked over my shoulder at my husband and grinned, "Why don't you go jack off and think about what's going to happen." I didn't look back again, knowing as I heard him tromping up the stairs that he was going to be doing exactly that.

The next day and a half, Donnie scarcely said a word to me other than to hiss his insults my way. I was busy cleaning house and prepping for dinner. I called my kids' friends' mothers to arrange for sleepovers, explaining that we were having company and asked Tara if she could make herself scarce as well that night.

My daughter was more than a little curious, asking a few probing questions. "Mister Richards from the bank is coming for dinner, Mom? Isn't he the guy you're working for now?"

I smiled and nodded, "You could say that, honey. He's part of a group I guess you could say I work for."

Tara gave me an odd look, one that was heavy with speculation and a little bit of amusement. "So...is this dinner part of your work for him?"

I started to open my mouth to say yes, but I knew that that wasn't true. I laughed a little and then shook my head before replying, "No, not really. This is personal. I suppose this is my way of saying thank you to Mister Richards. He kept us from losing the house and I imagine, so much more." In my mind, I was wondering if I should tell her that without my job, we'd likely be unable to afford sending her to college in the fall.

That had satisfied her curiosity and she'd been a great help to me getting things ready, assisting in the kitchen and ferrying my younger ones to their sleepovers, allowing me to focus on getting everything ready for the moment Mister Richards came into our home.

"Mister Richards, you remember my husband, Donnie?" I had my arm tucked around Mister Richards' arm as I guided him into our home. Donnie stood in the doorway, his hands now stuffed into his pants pocket, glowering at us.

The bank manager smiled and extended his hand. "Why of course. It's been too long, Mister Hammonds. I remember fondly our last meeting." He glanced at me with a sly grin. "That was when your lovely wife first proved her worth, as I recall."

Donnie stared at his extended hand and then with an expression of great distaste, reached out with his hand and limply shook the banker's hand. "Sir," he said meekly.

I guided our guest into the living room, him studying his surroundings. "Lovely house, my dear, simply lovely. I understand your desire to keep it and how it must fuel your...enthusiasm for your work." He paused and picked up an antique candy dish I'd found in a yard sale. "Exquisite, Sonya. I always suspected you had marvelous taste." He paused and chuckled, "Or is it I also suspected you tasted marvelous?"

I giggled like a teenager girl at his teasing comment while Donnie just frowned. I offered him a drink and he surprised me by asking for a beer when I thought he might request something a little more refined. I fetched him and my husband beers and returned to find Donnie sitting in his easy chair, face flushed bright red and Mister Richards on the sofa, going on about me and my talents. "...I never suspected how well suited Sonya was for her vocation. I mean, I saw in her the raw talent, but never suspected she would take to it so heartedly." After I handed out the beers, Mister Richards patted the sofa cushion next to him and I didn't hesitate to sit down, pressing my mostly bare leg against his pin stripped trousers.

My employer continued singing my praises without pause, Donnie's eyes widening in shock as Mister Richards dropped his hand calmly and possessively on my bare leg above the knee, sliding his finger upwards to expose more of my thigh while he said, "I don't think Sonya's ever gone out on a....an assignment that within a few hours, I haven't received a call raving about how wonderful she is. I've never seen the like before, everyone, men and women both, amazed at her skills and her enthusiasm."

Mr. Richards leaned forward and said, "I tell you, Donnie, your wife was born to be a whore!" As he spoke, his hands slid up under the hem of my dress, fingers easily finding my mound and feeling the heat and wetness soaking through my silky panties. I gave a little gasp as the tips of his fingers trailed over my labia, the silk molded to my lips.

Donnie's mouth gaped open and for a second I thought he might throw his beer can at Mister Richards, but then we all heard a door shut upstairs and then footsteps coming lightly and quickly down from above. We all quickly came to our feet, me a little unsteady in my high heels as we watched my daughter come downstairs. I had completely forgotten she was still here.

Tara looked lovely as only a nubile eighteen year old girl can. She was dressed for a night's dancing in a short sheath dress, strapless, the bodice barely containing her young, pert breasts, while her legs were made even shapelier by her three inch stilettos. Tara had her sandy blonde hair braided into a French twist that hung over her shoulder, calling attention to the exposed portion of her breasts that barely jiggled as she came down the stairs, smiling at us.

A quick glance around had me smiling with naughty amusement as I couldn't tell whether my husband or our guest was staring at my daughter with the most lust. Of course, I felt some strange yearnings myself...not for the first time either since I had discovered my own enjoyment of women and heard others fantasize about me and my daughter.

"And who do we have here?" Mister Richards exclaimed, stepping forward to meet her at the base of the stairs.

"Mister Richards, allow me to introduce you to our daughter, Tara." I smiled at my daughter as I moved to stand beside him. "Honey, this is Mister Richards...from the bank."

Tara smiled shyly and offering her hand replied, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Richards."

Mister Richards grinned wolfishly and said, "The pleasure is surely mine, my dear," as he gently shook her hand. "I now know that your mother comes by her beauty honestly as I see you take after her." It suddenly occurred to me that he shook her hand with the same one that had just been fondling my wet mound. I tried to keep myself from shivering with delight at that nasty realization.

My daughter glowed at his oddly phrased compliment and said, "Thank you. Mom is lovely, isn't she?"

We stepped back to let her enter the room, almost surrounding her as Donnie moved up as well, his face a mixture of lust for his daughter and alarm at Mister Richard's attentions towards her. "Will you be joining us for dinner, Tara?"

I could feel the hunger in his voice and was suddenly struck by almost overwhelming desires of my own, suddenly envisioning my daughter stark naked and spread-eagled on our dinner table, me licking Mister Richard's semen out of her young pussy. I was snapped out of my dizzying fantasy by Tara's voice, laced with a hint of flirtatiousness, as she replied, "Not tonight, sir. I already had other plans." Tara smiled as she continued, "I wish I could, Mister Richards. Maybe another time."

Our guest glowed with delight as he said, "I look forward to that, dear. I very much look forward to that."

He released Tara's hand and she stepped forward and kissed her father on the cheek, not shying away from pressing her partly unclad body against his chest, her bosom pillowing out as she leaned into him. She smiled at me and I thought I caught a hint of a wink as she leaned into me, her hand squeezing my arm as she planted a chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth and said, "I hope you all have a wonderful evening."

She started to move towards the kitchen, but paused as she stepped past Mister Richards. "It was very nice to finally meet you, sir," she said softly...even meekly, although I thought I could detect that hint of flirtatiousness still in her voice. "I know how much you've done for us. Thank you, Mister Richards." Then she leaned into him, her father noisily grunting as she kissed him on the cheek."

In the stunned silence that followed, Tara eyed us all and said with a smile as she walked away, "I love you guys. Enjoy yourselves tonight."

For a moment, no one spoke and then as we heard the kitchen door close, Mister Richards spun around and beamed at us. "My compliments on having such a lovely daughter. Such wonderful manners for one so young – you two must be very proud."

Donnie just glowered although I could see an erection tenting in his pants. My own arousal was growing as well as I considered Tara's almost brazen behavior. I had long thought she had a good grasp on what I did for a living, but while I believed she understood, I wasn't sure of whether she might actually approve. Now I had to wonder while the naughtiest thoughts flashed through my mind.

"Um, why don't we move to the dining room, Mr. Richards?" I said, pointing the way where one end of our oak dinner table was set for dinner for three.

"Of course, Sonya," responded our guest, moving alongside me, his hand deftly slipping under the hem of my dress to cup my ass. I shivered with delight, feeling my nipples swelling even more under my dress. The moment was erotic to me in so many ways – realizing Mister Richards was being so brazenly forward and possessive and that Donnie, following along behind us, could not help but see him lay his claim and did nothing to stop him.

As we approached the table, I started to point to a seat on one side, but Mister Richards made himself at home, sitting at the head of the table where Donnie always sat. I glanced nervously at my husband who stood there, mouth gaping open at Mr. Richard's naked gall, until our guest turned in his seat and said with good natured humor, "Come, Donnie, sit, man. I wouldn't dream of enjoying everything your wife has to offer without you at my side." He pointed to the seat to his left. "Sit down, man, sit down!"

Donnie stood stock still for a moment, his face so red, I thought he might stroke out, but then, his shoulders sagged slightly and without a word, he took his seat. I brought in the food and took the seat to Mr. Richard's right. While in the kitchen, I was inspired to provide my guest with another surprise and had slipped off my panties.

As Mister Richards dined, I discovered that he was nearly ambidextrous, eating primarily with his left hand as he leaned to his right and his right hand stayed busy stroking my thigh and occasionally fingering my naked pussy. The first time his fingers brushed against my trimmed bush and then slithered down between my swollen labia, he raised his eyebrows and then gave me a pleased wink. He did little to conceal my wetness on his fingers as he would now and again bring his fingers to his mouth, shiny and dripping with my pussy cream, and suck them clean.

He seemed to relish every dish I served him, praising me loudly as he worked his way through my meal. We talked of all sorts of mundane things, of my other children and their efforts at school, Tara's college plans and of how the local high football team was doing, through all of it, not getting more than a few grunts from Donnie who picked at his food and glowered at me throughout the meal.

Afterwards, we rose and I suggested we retire to the living room for drinks and cigars. I had called Lilly and had found out his favorite brand of cigars and where to find them. They were jaw dropping expensive, but after Key West, I felt more than able to indulge in such luxuries. Donnie declined one, but Mister Richards was more than pleased to accept a cigar, along with a snifter glass of decent cognac Lilly had recommended as well. I bent over in front of him with a box of wood matches, offering him his best glimpse yet of my breasts as the front of my dress gaped open. He smiled appreciatively as he brought his cigar to life.

He again patted the seat next to him and I scooted up beside him, his hand quickly reclaiming possession of my thigh, slowly sliding his fingers up and down my leg as the small talk continued. Donnie barely spoke a few words throughout the next thirty minutes or so as Mister Richards held forth on politics and economics, focusing greatly on how he expected our town to fare in the long run in light of the slowly recovering economy.

It was only when he asked Donnie directly about his company and how it was recovering from the recession, that my husband stirred above a nearly comatose state. "We're doing alright. We've got a long ways to go, but we're doing alright," he said, his voice slightly defensive and suspicious.

Mister Richards blew firm rings of smoke into the air and replied, "I suppose you would know, my friend...but a man in my position hears things. Frankly, if I had stock in your company, I'd be selling it now. I would guess in another month or two...well." He paused and shrugged. "Maybe things will work out, Donnie. Miracles do happen."

I gave my husband a long and questioning look, but he refused to look into my eyes. I wondered what Mister Daniels might actually know and if Donnie knew it too, but had not told me.

The tension went up suddenly in the room, but Mister Richards cut through it like a knife as he laughed and said, "Well, no matter. I'd say you've nothing to worry about, so long as Sonya here has a taste for cock." His hand slid between my thighs and two fingers slipped into my molten pussy effortlessly.

I groaned as he stirred his fingers around inside me, managing to somehow purr. "I love cock...I always will!"

Donnie's look of dismay vanished as he resumed glaring at us again as I wiggled next to Mister Richards, his fingers feeling so damned good in my pussy. "Yes sir, what a fortunate day it was for us all when you two came into my office and accepted my offer."

My guest beamed down at me and with trembling lips, I found myself rising, spurred on by his torturous fingers and a sudden need to kiss him. My lips pressed against Mister Richard's, my tongue snaking into his mouth to be met and dominated by his tongue, a demon like snake of flesh whose movements alone made me feel slutty and aching to sin.

When the kiss was finished, I had somehow climbed up onto the sofa onto my knees, allowing Mister Richards to brazenly finger me in front of Donnie. The banker looked at my husband with a big grin. "I often think about that first time, my boy – that first time when I asked Sonya to strip naked and suck my cock. Do you remember, Donnie? Do you remember how easy it was for her, how she sucked me with such enthusiasm...such honesty? You and I were privileged, sir...privileged to watch the birth of a total and complete whore slut like your wife."

Donnie sat rigid in his chair, his fingers clenched so tight, he might have drawn blood on his palm. Mister Richards pressed on. "Do you remember how much she enjoyed it, Donnie? How willing she was to be a slut? How she ate my cum like a starving woman and then rubbed my cock against her face?"

"Yes, I remember," Donnie hissed through clenched teeth.

Mister Richards chuckled and replied, "Yes, of course you do. As I recall, you were sporting significant wood when you walked out of my office." He took a puff from his cigar and then pointed it at my husband. "I imagine you were as shocked to be as turned on as you were watching your wife enjoying sucking another man's cock."

Donnie's face was again a bright crimson and he stammered, "No...fuck no!"

I let out another moan as Mister Richards curled his fingers inside me, fingertips brushing upwards against my pussy wall, getting close to my g-spot. I felt my head spinning and leaned my head against his shoulder, eyeing my husband as an expression of erotic pleasure swept over my face. Mister Richards laughed and said, "Now, Donnie, two men who've shared this lovely creature as we have should never lie to each other. He leaned forward, his fingers still probing me as he said, "I bet you didn't even get home before you had to have her suck you off!"

Donnie started to deny it, but stopped, his face now red and embarrassed as he recalled pulling into a deserted parking lot of a out of business service station, his hand intertwined in my hair as he forced my mouth onto his erection, making me suck him just as I had done to the banker. He looked down at his lap and at the betraying bulge tented in his slacks.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, man!" exclaimed Mister Richards. "Some men are born to command..." he paused and grinned proudly. "And some men are born to be cuckolds. You should be glad to discover your calling. I bet you've cum more in the last year than in all the rest of the years of your marriage."

Donnie tried to raise his head up and deny it, but he sat there, head bowed while his lips moved silently. Only when I cried out with orgasmic pleasure as Mister Richards' fingers found my special place and sent a sudden burst of ecstatic joy roaring through me, did my husband look up – just in time to see me suddenly ejaculate pussy juice, a great gush that splattered over Mister Richards's hand to splash on the sofa cushions.

"Oh, Sonya," Donnie moaned. "What the hell are we doing?"

Mister Richards chuckled again as his fingers kept probing. "Why she's doing what she was born to do, Donnie...being a whorish slut." He winked at my husband and said, "And you're doing what you were meant to do – enjoy watching her being pleasured by another man." As I quivered, leaning into Mister Richards, he slipped his fingers from my pussy and held them up to my face. He looked at Donnie and said, "Can you imagine her doing this a year ago, man? Lick my fingers clean, Sonya."

Donnie's eyes were wide with amazement, lust and anger as he watched me take all three of our banker's cum covered fingers into my mouth and loving suck on them like a hard penis, licking them clean of my own creams.

"I think it's high time you took off that lovely dress, my dear," said Mister Richards in that confident voice of his...one that brooked no argument nor expected one to be given. I obeyed instantly, not hesitating as I stood up and pulled the dress over my head, leaving myself naked except for my pearls and my high heels. I smiled down at my banker and then over at my husband, my breasts heaving with desire and pleasure, my nipples so swollen that they hurt and my pussy dripping juices that made my thighs glisten.

"The pearls are a nice touch, you can leave them on. They give you a sense of whorish elegance, Sonya. Wouldn't you agree, Donnie?" Mister Richards said as he reached out and slid his hand between my heavy breasts.

Donnie took several deep breaths before he replied, "She's a whore alright." He shifted in his seat, tugging at his crotch as if to maneuver his erection into a more comfortable position.

"And you love me for being one, don't you, Donnie," I gasped, my voice becoming a moaning cry as I said my husband's name as Mister Richards' fingers tugged and pinched a blood engorged nipple.

When Donnie didn't answer, choosing to simply glare at us, Mister Richards frowned and said in that commanding tone, "Well answer her, man! Might as well be honest – do you love that your wife is a whore?"

"Donnie trembled and I could see the impact of Mister Richards' voice had on him...like an alpha wolf cowing one of his pack. "Yes, I do," he finally said in a voice almost too soft to be a whisper.

Grinning, Mister Richards got to his feet and said, "Well, it's high time you saw first hand some examples of how much of a slut your wife can be." He turned to me and said, "My dear, let us retire to the bedroom...your matrimonial bed as it were."

An orgasmic shiver rippled through me and I moaned, "Oh yes, sir!" I took his hand and led him to the stairs, and he followed me up the steps, literally on my heels as I drew his hand back to my breast, his pelvis bumping up against my naked buttocks, his erection evident in his pants.

Midway up the staircase, he paused, pulling me against him as he looked down into the living room at Donnie who was sitting there looking pitiful in his easy chair and said, "C'mon, Donnie. I wouldn't dream of leaving you out of the fun we're going to have." When my husband hesitated, Mister Richards hardened his voice and said, "Get up here, Donnie. You must play your part in this!"

Another thrill shot through me, partly from feeling Mister Richard's free hand cup my mound from behind and partly from seeing Donnie slowly rise up from his chair and move towards the steps, dragging his feet, but unable to hide the erection in his pants. By the time he reached our bedroom, Mister Richards had instructed me to undress him and I was on my knees, untying and removing his shoes...then pulling off his socks before rising slightly to undo his belt.

As I pulled his dress pants off along with his boxers, Mister Richard's cock sprung out – nearly eight inches of magnificently thick cockmeat, stiff and throbbing – and slapped me in the face. As Donnie stared balefully at me kneeling before our banker, Mister Richards turned and looked about the room as if assessing the situation. "Suck me, Sonya," he commanded, "While I decide how to arrange things."

With a gratified moan, I slipped my lips around his hard cock, relishing his taste after three long weeks. I could taste sweat, body wash and pussy as my tongue swirled around his cock head happily. "For God's sake, man. Get out of those clothes," he snapped at my husband. "One might as well be comfortable!"

I turned my head slightly to look at Donnie, realizing that I was showing him how enthusiastically I was sucking Mister Richards. He stared back and then shaking off his lethargy, quickly undressed. Mister Richards nodded approvingly at our king sized bed and then pointing at the upholstered straight back chair in front of my vanity, said to Donnie, "Here, move this to the foot of the bed. You will need a good seat to watch from."

Donnie meekly obeyed while Mister Richards intertwined his fingers in my hair and held my head fast while he began pumping his cock into my mouth. Abruptly he stopped and helped me to my feet. "You have such a sweet mouth, Sonya," he murmured appreciatively."

"Thank you, Sir," I said, feeling pleased at his kind words. "You taste wonderful too."

He grinned and said, "Like that did you? I will pass your compliments on to my wife." His grin grew wider at my look of astonishment. I had never even considered Mister Richards being married. I knew or at least strongly suspected he fucked his secretary, Lilly Fox, but I was sure that wasn't her I had just tasted. He ran his thumb over my lips, resisting my efforts to suck it into my mouth while he added, "Perhaps someday, we'll have you over for dinner, Sonya. My wife is a shy thing, but you and I could have some fun, I think."

His words sent shivers through me, his tone saying maybe more than his actual words and again, his confidence and his strength seemed to shine from him and I felt myself grow wetter as he spoke. "I'd love that," I murmured in reply.

That seemed to please him and he leaned into me and kissed me, his tongue snaking hungrily into my mouth while one hand cupped and squeezed my breast and the other again found its way between my legs to finger me, making me moan appreciatively. I closed my eyes for a moment, simply losing myself in the pleasure this older man was giving me and then suddenly remembering my husband was nearby, opened up my eyes to see him standing at the foot of the bed next to the straight back chair, looking both lost and aroused, his erection, while not small, seeming a bit puny next to the one poking my belly.

I wondered what evil might dwell inside me that allowed me to take pleasure from knowing that my husband stood there helpless as I stood naked in the arms of another man, kissing him the way I had only kissed my husband up to a year ago. I wondered what evil might be inside me that allowed me to take pleasure from knowing that my actions were so arousing to my husband.

Mister Richards finally broke the kiss, bringing three fingers up between us, dripping with my cunt cream. He licked his middle finger clean and then offered me all three to suck on. "Samples are nice, Sonya, but I believe its time I sampled your fine pussy directly," he said a bit smugly.

Again, I was feeling incredibly aroused. I had conceived of tonight including a good fucking or two, but realizing that this man who I lusted for so greatly, wanted to lick my pussy, made me tremble and then gasp as a little orgasm hit me and I again ejaculated pussy juice, sending it splattering against his legs and down my thighs.

Laughing at my obvious excitement, Mister Richards guided me to the bed and laid me down on my back, my head resting near the foot of the bed. "Donnie, assume your post. You should be able to lean in and get a good view of things," he directed my husband, who paused for a moment, but then as Mister Richards climbed awkwardly onto the bed, his pot belly and years making him a bit slow, Donnie moved to straddle the chair, his cock swinging back and forth like an excited rooster dancing about in courtship.

Mister Richards knelt between my legs and then slowly eased down until he was lying down, his face hovering over my pussy. I had my knees drawn back and spread. His hands roamed over my inner thighs, making me tremble with need as he teased me with brief brushing touches of his fingers against my spread labia.

"Please, eat me, Mister Richards," I crooned, so anxious to feel his mouth on my sex. I trembled as I felt his warm breath blowing across the wet, exposed flesh of my cunt. I could sense his lips so close to my flesh, my body quivered in anticipation. Then he paused and raised his head and looked at Donnie, a growing smirk on his face.

"Donnie, stand up and help a fellow," he said in that confident, 'I know you're going to do whatever I fucking ask' voice of his. Rolling my eyes upward, I watched my husband stand, straddling the chair. "Take your wife by the ankles and spread her legs wide.

Donnie's nostrils flared in anger and passion, but he obeyed, leaning over the bed, his cock now waving just above my face as he took hold of my ankles. "That's the way, Donnie," intoned Mister Richards as if he was teaching a lesson in accounting. "Spread Sonya's legs wide, let me get a good look at her wet pussy." Mister Richards looked up at me, my eyes wide at the erotic spectacle of it all and then he said, "You're very wet, Sonya. Who are you wet for?"

Without hesitation, I said in a loud and clear voice. "I'm wet for you, Sir."

My banker nodded and said, "Are you sure? You're not wet for your husband?"

Again, without hesitation and never sparing Donnie a second glance, I replied, "No, my pussy's wet for you, Mister Richards."

I heard Donnie moan although with arousal or misery, I wasn't sure. "I see, Sonya," said Mister Richards in a pleased tone. "Why is that, Sonya?"

I flicked my eyes towards my husband's pained voice and answered, "Because I want you, Mister Richards. I want you more than I've ever wanted another man. I want you to lick me and fuck me and cum in me and cum on me. I want to be totally owned by you. I want to be your whore, your slut with all my heart and soul."

Mister Richards chuckled again and replied, "My whore...yes, you are, Sonya." He glanced up at Donnie and said commandingly, "Now spread her legs a little wider...that's it...now pull those legs back a little towards you...oh yes, perfect!" Without another word, Mister Richards mashed his face between my spread legs, his face burrowing into my cunt as I let out my first scream of the night as his tongue lashed out at my swollen clitoris.

The whole carnal scene served to send me into immediate orgasm. Mister Richards was tonguing my pussy like a master cunt licker, making me writhe with ecstatic joy while my husband held my legs spread wide for the banker, staring down as the older man tongued me and made me cum – not only watching another man pleasure his wife, but assisting him in his efforts.

Mister Richards' tongue was a thing alive in and of itself, swirling through my sopping wet flesh like a dervish, feverishly licking me and then delving deep into the quivering sodden folds of my cunt and then torturing my clitoris with long, slow, expert licks, making gobbling noises as he slurped up the torrent of pussy cream practically ejaculating from my cunt.

I tried to keep my eyes fixed on Mister Richards' bobbing face, but I couldn't keep my head still, the extreme pleasure of his tongue making me roll and shake my head, Donnie's face constantly flashing by, his gaze trying to take in and make sense of another man eating my cunt and making me sob and moan with such intense pleasure.

Donnie's cock bounced about, occasionally striking my face, smearing precum over my forehead and cheeks as he leaned further in, trying to get the head of his cock to my lips. I started to open my mouth to suck my husband, but then I caught Mister Richards gazing up at me as his mouth worked its pleasure on my pussy and I said in a sing song voice, "May I have permission to suck my husband's cock, Sir?'​