Cuckolded by my boss

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Cuckolded by my boss

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So why don't you give it a try and I'll give you pointers as necessary. Clark pulled the sheets taught and then pulled the bedspread up and over the pillows.

He looked at her for approval. If Bob found our bed like that, you'd be in for it. First of all, you didn't tuck in the sheets.

Second, you didn't put the shams on the pillows. They're on the floor against the wall. Make it even! Fourth, you didn't fluff the pillow.

Now try again. Clark re-made the bed to Emily's approval. This is what Bob expects to see when he comes in here after work. And it's what I expect as well, by the way.

Now to the bathroom. It took and hour and a half before Clark had the bathroom in the shape required. All the toiletries had been lined up just so and notes to job his memory had been made on the back of his duty list.

He had spent a lot of time on his hands and knees working on the tile floor and the bathtub fixtures until they sparkled.

A few notes about the laundry. Come with me. At Bob's chest of drawers Emily showed Clark where every item went and how it was to be folded.

Heels facing the front of the drawer. Colored t-shirts in this drawer and white one's in the one below.

Okay, on to the closet. We both use it. You'll need to launder what is in her every day. And iron what needs to be ironed. You'll be glad this is a daily task, because it can be time-consuming.

They're arranged in a special order which you'll want to commit to memory. At the end of the day Bob leaves the shoes he's worn on the floor.

So you will polish them and put them in the correct cubby. Do you have all that? In the kitchen she showed him where all the cleaning supplies were stored.

Whenever anything needs washing or putting away, do it. Bob is in and out of here a lot, so keep on your toes and you'll soon get into the rhythm of things.

If you don't, you'll hear from him and I don't think you want that. I think you know what needs to be done. I'm going to sun myself by the pool for a while and let you get to work.

It's already made in the refrigerator. In general, when you hear one of the bells, it means you should drop what you're doing and present yourself promptly to whoever is summoning you.

Now get to work. He was in the process of washing the garbage can when he heard the bell ringing on the patio. He quickly filled a glass with iced tea and headed to the patio.

Emily was lying in a chaise longue wearing a very small bikini. As he approached her from behind she rang the bell again.

You'll want to be a bit quicker when Bob rings for you. After weeks without sex the sight of his wife in the revealing swimsuit was terribly exciting.

He couldn't take his eyes off her. You are the help. I am your supervisor. I assure you that Bob wouldn't appreciate your staring at his woman.

You weren't so hungry for me when we were together. Why change now? If you start getting any inappropriate thoughts, just think of Bob. Do I need to have him talk to you?

Don't say anything to Bob. Bob, as I mentioned, is a stickler for protocol. You're Bob's domestic for the time being, which means you're not here as a friend or a guest.

You're the help. In other words, you are not on a first-name basis with him. I promised I would talk to you about this matter.

It's Mr. Johnson or Sir. He's your former boss, a vice president of a major corporation, your future boss and the man who is fucking your wife.

Don't you think you owe him the respect he deserves? You want to get off on the right foot. Show you know the pecking order, so to speak.

It will be second nature before long. Just show respect and display subordination and everything will be all right. I've seen how he exploded at Mary, his usual maid, the poor old lady, when she crossed the line.

For the next six hours Clark worked non-stop except for a minute break for lunch. Emily checked up on him on an hourly basis, which led to Clark's having to re-do some of his chores.

By the end of the day he was exhausted and his knees were in pain from the time he had spent on them. At six p.

Emily approached. He'll be home in ten minutes. Go change into some clean clothes and meet me in the kitchen. He made it to the kitchen just as he heard the garage door opening.

You remember everything. So you made it, huh? And thank you. May I take your briefcase, sir? And bring me a martini in the family room.

At that moment Emily appeared and walked into Bob Johnson's open arms. The kiss continued for an uncomfortably long time for Clark, who didn't know where to look.

He was overwhelmed with jealousy and humiliation as he watched his employer's hands move down to his wife's shapely ass, causing her to purr.

When their kiss ended, Bob noticed that Clark was still standing there. When Bob left in the direction of the family room Emily remained behind.

Try to strike that balance. Now let me show you exactly how Bob likes his martinis. In a few moments Clark had mastered the task. It's harder than it looks.

Tell him I'll be there in a moment. Clark carried the tray very slowly, with his thumb holding the bottom of the martini glass in place, as Emily had instructed.

He managed to make all the way to Bob's chair in the family room without spilling a drop. But the man didn't even look up, as if he didn't know Clark was standing there.

After an uncomfortable several moments, Clark ventured to call attention to himself. As Clark complied he passed along his wife's message.

The words made Clark shudder with apprehension. Just when he thought we was off on the right foot, his employer's tone of voice told him that something bad was about to happen.

This line needs to be clear in your mind. You will address her as Miss Emily. Or Ma'am. Is that clear enough for you?

I'm sorry, sir. At that moment Emily entered the room. She pranced in wearing a very short skirt, plopped down on Bob's lap and kissed him.

His hands found her thigh far above the knees and began caressing her. She beamed a taunting smile in Clark's direction as Bob's hand moved higher.

It sounds like someone was taken to the woodshed. Clark felt blushed with embarrassment and quickly headed to the kitchen to fetch his wife a glass of wine.

Later, he served the couple dinner and waited in the kitchen, listening for the bell that was his signal that they needed something. Then you may go to your room.

Lights out at 9 pm! Coffee at a. Thank you, ma'am," he replied. At 9 pm on the dot he turned off the light in his basement room.

He wanted to spend more time reading but was afraid that they might actually check up on him. As he lay in bed he couldn't help but imagine what was going on in the master bedroom.

How he wished he could be enjoying his wife instead of Bob Johnson! How lucky could a man be? Rich, good looking, enjoying another man's wife, and supposedly very well endowed to boot!

The image of Bob penetrating his newly liberated wife somehow caused him to get excited. How sick is that? He couldn't resist stroking himself as he pictured the man deep-stroking Emily.

He realized he was about to cum and stopped touching himself, but it was too late. He erupted and soaked the crotch of his only pair of pajamas.

Going to sleep in the sticky garment would not be pleasant, but he didn't dare use the washing machine. He then made himself scarce until the couple had left for work, at which time he began his chores.

After consulting his list he first changed the sheets on the bed in the master bedroom and took them along with the laundry down to the basement to put in the machine.

He decided to devote the first two hours of his day to their bedroom, suspecting that it would receive the most careful scrutiny, especially by the man of the house.

He paid special attention to the expensive Italian shoes left on the floor of the walk-in closet. He didn't expect praise for his good work but at least he hoped not to be chastised.

As usual, Emily arrived home first at the end of the day. And pour me a glass of white wine while I check your work.

Clark poured the wine and put it in the refrigerator while he waited to hear her return downstairs. The sound of a bell ringing from the family room put him into motion.

He served the wine from the same small tray he used for Mr. I've given the house a good once-over and it looks pretty good. I'm trying my best.

It was awkward for Clark to stand there while his wife sipped the wine. He wasn't sure whether he should retire to the kitchen to look after dinner or wait to be dismissed.

He couldn't resist cautiously admiring her. She had changed into shorts and a tee shirt and sandals. Her legs were perfect and nicely tanned.

And she clearly had nothing on under the tee shirt. Feeling himself about to respond physically to the sight of her he prayed she would dismiss him fast.

I promise," he insisted. Keep your eyes on the floor and be unobtrusive. I don't want to see your eyes wandering, if you get my drift.

I'm sorry. Now, I should say that you've been doing a good job so far. The house looks good and your manners are improving. If you'd been so attentive when we were together you might not be in this position now.

Just go get to work on dinner. With great relief Clark returned to the kitchen, which he now considered his domain.

It was a safe place where he could relax and not offend Emily or Bob Johnson. When his employer arrived home, Clark repeated the ritual of greeting him and taking his briefcase and preparing his martini.

But this time when Emily greeted her man with a long, passionate kiss, he kept his eyes cast downward and just stood by as he had been instructed.

After dinner while he was washing dishes and cleaning the kitchen Emily came in with a plastic shopping bag. Right away. Bob is used to his maid wearing a uniform.

You know, just to make clear that she is the help and not just a helpful guest. So from now on he wants you to wear this. Clark took the bag and pulled out a long pink apron.

The blow across the side of his face was so sudden and so hard that he fell back against the kitchen counter. His eyes watered and his face hurt something awful.

It w-won't h-happen again," he stuttered as she stepped closer to him. With trembling hands he hung the apron over his neck and fumbled trying to tie it behind his back.

Emily felt a rush of pleasure as she realized how much she had frightened her poor would-be hubby.

I'm sorry," he said, cowering back against the counter. No, please, Miss Emily, don't tell him. I promise it won't happen again. But next time you'll be having a talk with Bob and I promise you won't enjoy it.

Wearing his new apron Clark served wine to the couple on the patio. It was a beautiful evening and he was overwhelmed with jealousy. Emily was sitting on Bob's lap while his hand rested on her inner thigh up close to the hem of her shorts.

Thank you, sir. I'll always wear it," he replied. Lights out at nine p. Thank you, ma'am. And so it went day after day. Clark found refuge only in doing a good job.

And when he did receive the rare compliment, he beamed with pride. He hadn't forgotten the humiliation and pain of being slapped by Emily and made every effort for that not to happen again.

Being inconspicuous and yet attentive was becoming almost natural. One evening after an early dinner Clark was informed that Bob was leaving on an overnight business trip that night.

He was sent to his room even before the dishes were cleared and the kitchen cleaned so the couple could say their good-byes.

He lay in his cot trying not to think about how they said good-bye. Once again he wasn't successful in banishing the images from his mind.

His pecker got hard but he forced himself not to touch himself, which took a lot of effort on his part.

He heard the automatic garage door open and close as, presumably, Bob had departed for the airport. The next sound he heard was the tinkling of Emily's bell from the master bedroom.

By now he could distinguish the various bells by their sound. He put on his apron and quickly took the stairs two at a time.

At the bedroom door he straightened his apron and knocked gently. The light in the bedroom was very dim and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.

When they did what focused his attention was the sight of Emily sitting back against a pillow with the sheet up to her waist.

He knees were up. Her breasts were bare and he couldn't help but stare for a moment before remembering his place and turning his eyes toward the floor.

Still keeping his eyes on the floor Clark slowly shuffled toward the bed. The aroma of sex permeated the room. Was she trying to torture him, he wondered.

I admit it. You should be. But I'll be you still have fantasies about me. Admit it! Tell me the truth! You won't get in trouble if you just tell me the truth.

I try not to. Look at me? He looked up to see Emily holding her breasts up on full display. Now he was hard.

Absolutely not. I really respect him. And you! He usually does me two or three times. I've become spoiled. So I'm going to use that mouth of yours to take the edge off.

It's your way of giving me and Bob your blessing. Please, Miss Emily. Don't tell him that. I'd really be in trouble. It's decided. Get on your knees next to the bed.

Frightened and nervous, Clark lowered himself to his knees and shuffled forward until he was right at the edge of the bed.

With one fluid motion Emily threw off the sheet and swung her legs up and over and down onto Clark's shoulders. He face was now inches away from her open and very wet pussy.

He was hypnotized by the site and aroma of her. Johnson, Miss Emily? So I want you to worship respectfully.

Clark was already salivating. It had been so long and his pecker was so painfully hard. Clark brought his lips gently into contact with the open lips of her womanhood and began licking in what he hoped was a respectful manner.

But he couldn't control himself long and soon plunged his tongues into her sopping hole, licking and sucking. I said worship, not gorge yourself.

Are you tasting his cum? And swallow it. When he continues she compressed some inner muscle and the cum poured right across his tongue and into his mouth.

Then more. Her clit, always on the large size, was now fully engorged. It was the heart of her power and he lapped at it, sucked it, flicked his tongue against the tip.

In moments she was overtaken by a powerful orgasm. She put a foot on his shoulder and pushed him back on his ass.

Don't wash your face tonight! Thank you ma'am," he said as he crawled toward the door, then scurried down to the kitchen. His eyes burned slightly and the taste of their juices was strong in his mouth and on his tongue as he finished up his kitchen chores.

By the time he got into bed the taste was beginning to dissipate, which for some reason disappointed him.

He lay in bed stroking himself and licking his lips. This time he had had the foresight not to put on pajamas but did end up sleeping on sticky sheets after his pecker spurted powerfully.

At that moment Emily was dialing the phone by her bed. But he did it. He actually did it. I know. I think our work here is almost done, darling.

There was not reference to Clark's cum sucking during the days that followed. Only the occasional smirk from Emily, which never failed to make him blush.

He went out of his way to cater to both Bob and Emily and had even begun to feel honored for the opportunity to serve them. Then, one evening while Emily was having a wine while waiting for Bob to come home, she summoned Clark with her little bell.

He came promptly, stood before her, eyes cast downward, neat as a pin in his pink apron. Bob and I are having a wonderful relationship and god knows the sex is fantastic!

I'm happy for you both. Don't get ahead of yourself, Clark. It would just be on a trial basis. I'll do anything!

Great for him, but I've gotten used to being served and the house taken care of. I'd love to do that for you.

I want to do everything for you. The pink apron goes with you. We'll set it up in the basement. You mean we wouldn't. Really, Clark, you're being presumptuous.

You're right. I apologize. It was a little less than he hoped for, but still an exciting prospect for Clark.

If he played his cards right, he thought, he might end up with Emily in time. Do you understand? I just want to be of service. This will be 24x7.

After a year we'll see where things stand. But no matter what happens, you will be responsible for all maid service and anything else I need.

You'll move most of my stuff back to the house on Saturday. I'll leave things here for when I spend the night with Bob.

Sunday night you will prepare a dinner for my housewarming for Bob and me. Clark blushed, understanding what she mean.

So Clark moved his and Emily's things back to what used to be their house but which was now referred to as her house. That was okay with Clark.

It was at least a beginning. Sunday Clark did grocery shopping and prepared a celebratory dinner for Bob and Emily. He set out candles, chilled champagne and in general made everything perfect.

After Bob had arrived and was having a cocktail in the living room, Emily entered the kitchen to check up on Clark's progress. Smells good," she said.

I hope Mr. Johnson likes it. Out of a plastic bag she pulled out something that sent a shiver up Clark's spine. And look at the nice handle!

I hope I don't ever have to use it. It's for you should you break any of my rules or disappoint me in any way. Because if not, then the whole thing is off.

Just to see if it's effective and to let you see what would be in store for you should you misbehave or perform poorly.

I promise. It'll just take a minute. Drop your pants and shorts and lean over the counter. Clark hesitated. Her tone frightened him into quick compliance.

He let his pants and shorts fall to his ankles and leaned over the counter. He felt himself not only very vulnerable, but also frightened at this new aspect of his life.

So why don't we stuff this pot holder in your mouth to keep you quiet. Open up! Clark opened his lips and let Emily stuff the entire pot holder into his mouth.

Sure, sure, I could always use some of that. Ted was making me work for this promotion. Here, come take a look.

I froze as I saw what he was looking at. There was Denice in the boardroom, bent over the table with her skirt hiked up as I was pumping into her.

I was stunned. I was pretty sure I was about to be fired. He cut me off. We also both know that this could get you fired pretty easily.

He put up his hand to get me to stop talking. My heart sank as I realized what he meant. I also understood what he meant by having a very special Friday night… I gulped as I weighed my options—unemployment and wasting my chance at a career-making promotion….

My heart raced. Ask her now then come back and tell me what she says. I raced out of his office and picked up my phone to call Denice. I realized she had texted me… I opened the text to see an image of her standing next to a tray of penne, wearing the sexy outfit she had sent me earlier.

She had posed so that her butt stuck out a bit—the big ass looked like it was basically bursting out of her skirt. I gulped. Denice: What?? Denice: Did he fire you?

Hun that sounds like a miracle more than something bad. Me: He wants you. Denice: Like… to fuck? Me: Yep.

There was a pause in the conversation as we both let the reality of the situation sink-in. My heart was racing as I imagined the promotion slipping away—along with our plans to purchase a house and finally settle on.

Denice: We need this promotion…. Me: Fuck, but not like this? Plus, we should be secure in our marriage right? How bad could it be?

We need this. You can fuck my wife. Tell her to come straight into my office when she gets here. I left dejectedly, and tried my best to concentrate on my work.

A big dick that was going to be pounding my wife. I went out to the front of the office to let her in. She looked gorgeous, the white blouse showing a hint of black lace underneath it, and her hips looking lovely in the tight pencil skirt.

I took my penne from her and walked her into the office. If it was hard to concentrate before, by now it was basically impossible.

My heart was racing imagining what was going on in the office. My mind imagined Denice bent over my bosses desk while his massive hands spanked her ass.

I stared at my screen for a little while longer, trying to zone out from imagining my boss having his way with my wife… when my desk phone rang.

Inter-office call. I stood up and walked over to his office. Distracted by what? My wife. Ted had my wife under the table sucking his cock.

He forced her head down on his cock and made her gag one more time, staring me in the face as he did it.

I stood in silence, completely stunned. Denice, go give your husband a kiss. He pushed his chair back and I got a brief glimpse of what looked like an absolutely massive rod.

I felt embarassed for even looking but I quickly averted my gaze to my wife, who had stood up and was walking over to me.

Her lipstick was smeared slightly, and her skirt and been removed. She was wearing black lace booty shorts… I loved this pair on her as it made her ass look great.

Except now I knew her ass had the huge red handprints of my superior on them. She walked over to me wordlessly and gave me a big kiss.

The tongue that had been all over his shaft just a moment earlier. Now come here and get back on your knees. Ted had been spanking her, hard. She got on her knees and I watched mesmerized for a moment as she worked his massive cock.

Ted looked down on her and watched with satisfaction as she swirled her tongue around the head and kissed it before closing her lips around it and sucking.

I need that report. I fumbled through my report, while imagining what was happening in the office. I felt a little inferior just thinking about that mammoth.

I pinched myself to try and snap out of it and focus on my work. I was distracted by my cellphone buzzing with an incoming message.

I checked it. He had written W-H on the left side of her face, and R-E on the right side… combined with her mouth opening for his cock, he spelled whore.

I put the phone down immediately and looked over at the corner office… I felt helpless. My wife was being used and there was nothing I could do about it, except get through this work.

Oddly enough, the image of my wife being used aggressively by my superior was a little motivating. I was still distracted by able to work through things a little faster… soon I was almost done.

I was in-the-zone that I barely noticed some of the slapping sounds had resumed. I finally finished the report and printed it off. While I was waiting for the printer I noiced my phone blinking—guess I had missed a few messages.

They were from Denice. More pictures. Then another of her bent over his desk, back arched up to him… with his hand between her legs, rubbing her pussy over her booty shorts.

Her pussy looked so wet. Stopping just outside and listening—I heard the slapping of skin-on-skin and my wife whimpering and moaning.

She was completely naked, her perky B-cup totally exposed and her nipples were hard. She had her legs together and hands on the arm-rests of his leather chair, biting her lip and gasping as he pumped into her from behind.

My wife looked up at me—I made eye contact with her briefly. Come here and put it on my desk. Ted continued talking to me as I put the report down on his desk and watched him play with my wife.

He stopped for a moment. Back on your knees, whore. She stood up, and i saw his massive cock slip out of her and slap up against his stomach.

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Mein Familienplaner 5 Sterne. But presented with a unique and profitable sales opportunity at a convention for African-American entrepreneurs in Vegas, Jim pitches in to make the sale of a lifetime. Jim had better hope that is the case. Er muss hilflos dabei zusehen, wie seine Frau tiefer und tiefer in den Bann seines charismatischen, schwarzen Chefs Nick Porter gezogen wird. Our company Christmas parties are always good. This is an 8,word short story.

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