My name is Tom O’Donnell. I’m thirty-six; the Chief Engineer, for Eco-Logics Technologies. The following account was mostly told to me by Kathy, my wife of eight years. I remember it so clearly – every detail and nuance – because, for me, at least, it was the most novel, engaging, and, quite literally, fantastic story I’d ever heard.
It all began when Kathy, thirty-three at the time, was hired by Halliborn Innovations Ltd. – fresh out of school, sparkly new MBA in hand – as the Executive Personal Assistant to Lori Halliborn, the forty-three-year-old President and CEO of the wildly successful upstart tech company.
The job was high-pressure and full-speed. Kathy hit the ground running, determined to do a bang-up job, especially during her six-month probationary period. She liked her boss immediately, and loved the job right away. Every night she’d get home exhausted, but smiling from ear to ear – full of stories of how she filled her day. It was wonderful to see her so happy.
Kathy began working late one or two times a week from the get-go; but, hey, that was par for the course for me, too. And it was all legit – initially, at least. She was learning the ins and outs of the new job, on the job – in the trenches, getting dirty; but, in retrospect, there was, obviously, some setting of the stage; establishing the precedents, as it were.
It is clear to me now, that, at that time – in those early days – Kathy’s boss was already slowly and expertly seducing her. It began innocently enough – after a particularly stressful day, in the boss’s rather palatial office, Lori asked Kathy for a neck-rub. “This is the ‘Personal’ aspect of the Executive Personal Assistant job,” she chuckled, adding, “Consider it ‘earning brownie points’.”
Kathy complied, moving behind her boss, she began to massage her shoulders – pressing and squeezing. Lori sighed appreciatively and talked about the importance of stress relief. The scenario was repeated a couple days later, and again following that. After several times over a couple weeks, during which Lori had reciprocated only two or three times, while receiving a very strong massage – as requested – Lori grabbed Kathy’s hands and lowered them to her bosom. Quietly, casually, she spoke about how ‘just feeling good’ is a stress release – as she gently guided Kathy in caressing her boobs.
After only a few times Lori had led Kathy’s hands under her blouse and bra to mold her firm breasts and pinch her nipples. While Lori occasionally did the same for Kathy, the sensuous caress was pretty much one-sided. Kathy complied without remark because, as she put it, “I knew what side my bread was buttered on.”
Eventually Lori had pulled Kathy around front and fed her her tits. Kathy licked and laved, nibbling and molding. She sucked and tugged and did everything to her boss that she loved being done to herself – by me. Here, Kathy paused in her narrative and looked me imploringly in the eye. In a whispered aside, she admitted that very soon she’d found it soothingly arousing to grope and nuzzle Lori’s ample breasts.
One afternoon Lori took Kathy’s hand and led her, wordlessly into the side office – sort of a den that overflowed, with a kind of a muted opulence, off Lori’s main office. Pulling Kathy down onto the couch she said, “This affords us a little more privacy.” Then, pausing to fix Kathy’s attention with her gaze, she added, “I trust you understand that our little recreations here just stay between us, eh? No one else need ever know.” Kathy understood the implied warning clearly enough, and respected it.
Sitting side by side, Lori pulled Kathy into her boobs as she peeled her blouse open. Then she put her hands on Kathy’s shoulders and prodded Kathy into sinking to the floor between her knees. At the same time, Lori flipped up her own skirt to reveal her unclothed pussy. With a little coaxing, explaining patiently how an orgasm is the ultimate de-stressor, Lori coached Kathy in her first cunnilingus experience.
Reaching around to cup Lori’s ass-cheeks in her hands, Kathy pushed her face into the juncture of Lori’s thighs. From the first touch of her tongue to Lori’s pussy Kathy could feel the changes: the lips becoming puffy, and slick with natural lubricant, saltier to taste; running her tongue up the labia, she felt Lori’s clitoris engorge as she circled it. Once again, using her own experience as a guide, her own pleasure, Kathy took to pussy-licking rather seamlessly.
“I guess I was pretty successful that first time,” Kathy remarked, inserting a small smile into what had, so far been a very clinical account. “As I stroked over and around her clit, Lori’s thighs began to tremble and her hips began to bounce and thrust. Fingers entwined in my hair, she pulled me tight into her crotch. I could feel the vibrations of her building scream rumble through her fundament. Then holding my head tight, she squeezed her legs, scissoring me as she forced her suddenly weeping quim against my face, sealing my nose. Struggling for breath, I kept my tongue actively probing her vagina, reaching for her throbbing clit. Eventually she released the pressure and let me breathe again, although she continued to hold me in place through the echoes of her climax.”
In the following weeks, Sapphic love became almost a staple – sucking and caressing Lori’s tits, munching on her pussy, bringing her to climax. Kathy took to it amazingly readily. In fact, she admitted, she really enjoyed it, and found it a relaxing break in the work routine.
But Lori reciprocated only as far as sucking Kathy’s tits and fingering her to climax – never performing cunnilingus. Kathy figured this was something to do with keeping the help in its place; but she didn’t mind. Furthermore, she believed that compliance furthered her progress up the corporate ladder towards a VP appointment.
Somewhere in her subconscious, Kathy realized that her uncontested responses, her unquestioned complicity could be considered evidence of a growing submissiveness, but she chose to dismissed that concern. She’d convinced herself that they were just two girls de-stressing, in a mutually pleasurable way. And that’s all it was for a few more weeks, before the situation began expanding – mutating.
Kathy paused as if to catch her breath, snatching quick glances at me. She had my rapt attention. After a moment, she continued with her tale of corruption.
Lori called Kathy into the side office, where Lori’s husband, Barrett, VP of operations, lounged nonchalantly in an easy chair. Bustling about Lori said, casually, “I’m frightfully busy, hon, as you know, and Barrett is frightfully horny.” She stopped and looked directly at Kathy, before adding, “Be a dear and take care of him for me, will ya?” Then she flounced out of the office, leaving Kathy looking aghast at her boss’s husband. The forty-year old letch just smiled at her appraisingly. Rising slowly, he approached her and put his hands on her shoulders. “You look terrified,’ he chuckled. “I don’t bite, you know.” Kathy stood frozen.
“Tell you what, let’s dispense with the foreplay and go right to the main even.” He led her to the couch in the den, lifted her skirt and removed her panties. She followed along like an automaton.
When they were done, he told her she did a pretty good impression of a blow-up doll; they’d have to work on that. He left her to recover her underwear, her mind whirling as she thought about what happened. “Though,” she considered, “It was not actually that much different from what I do with Lori.”
Casually, next time they were intimate, Lori remarked that she felt Kathy was a bit disappointing for someone with so much potential. Then she went on to relate what Barrett had said. “He thinks you should relax – mellow out. He said you were very up-tight. There’s no need for that, you know. ‘Cause I think you’re a natural.” She gave Kathy’s boob a playful squeeze, adding, “We’ll work on that, eh?”
Kathy understood the implied threat, and realized that she’d better step up her game. Pissing off the boss would put all her career ambitions in jeopardy. So she decided, while munching hungrily between Lori’s thighs, to give one hundred ten percent, from now on.
Hence, the next time with Barrett was ‘way better. Kathy just let herself go. Lori had ‘asked’, almost flippantly, if Kathy could come in and “take care of Barrett.” Kathy had straightened her shoulders and entered the side office confidently. Pausing momentarily, she surveyed the room. Barrett was slouching in the easy-chair, watching her entrance with a glint of challenge in his eye. Kathy smiled as she pounced. Straddling his knees, she leaned in and crushed her mouth against his, forcing her tongue down his throat, all the while struggling with both hands at his fly-front, to release his already turgid cock.
Raising her hands to peel open his shirt, she slid smoothly down his chest to engulf his still growing erection. “It was easy, once I had the right mind-set!” she observed. Shedding her panties, she climbed up again onto his lap, and, stifling any remark he may have made with her hungry lips on his, she lowered herself onto his wood, sinking down until their pubes met. As she began to actively ride him, rocking and raising, up and down, she was surprised by a sudden-onset climax, which, at its unexpected arrival, swept over him. “Holy shit,” Barrett sputtered, “Where’d that come from? Are you even the same girl?”
Kathy just smiled as she set to getting him up for a second round.
And it wasn’t long after that, that Kathy received her first ‘request’ to service a client. Lori explained that he was in from out of town, a loyal customer who deserved a few perks once in a while. “Just like Barrett,” Lori had advised, “just make him feel good!”
Kathy called on him at his hotel room on the pretext of delivering a prospectus. Sam Waterhouse turned out to be a shy, lonely, middle-aged dumpling of a man – but Christ, was he well-endowed. After small-talk, and a drink, Kathy had initially turned on the charm, then pulled out the stops. Suddenly transforming into a tiger, Kathy aggressively fucked the hell out of the poor man. He didn’t know what hit him, and in the end, as Kathy straightened her clothing to leave, he insisted she take the proffered couple of hundred-dollar-bills, as a token of his appreciation. Kathy protested that it had been her pleasure, but in the end bowed to his insistence.
“And what does that make me?” she asked herself, ruefully, as she hailed a cab back to the office. Notwithstanding, she was pleased to find out how far she could go, and how much she’d enjoyed it. “Bottom line is:” she’d concluded, “inasmuch as corporate advancement is the objective, this was, really, very good for brownie-points!”
During her discourse, Kathy tried to assure me that I was her sole source of love. “All of this other stuff is just sex, just lust – titillation and thrill; and,” she added with a shrug, “in an odd way, power. But I get all the love I need or want from you, and only you.” She looked at me, uncertain, tentatively reaching with her hand. I met her, giving her hand a squeeze. Despite her deception – cheating, if you will – I believed her. It’s funny how love works. After a moment, she took up the story once more.
Of course, it wasn’t all erogenous stimuli. Her time, for the most part, was spent dealing with the machinations of commerce – what one might expect of an executive assistant – organizer, manager, advisor, troubleshooter, and gofer. Kathy loved her job for the variety and the opportunity, and in the bustle of those legitimate aspects of her position, Kathy thrived, too.
But this particular history focuses on the more questionable aspects of her employment. After that first time, she began providing clients with perks and incentives two or three times every couple of weeks. Not long into the establishment of that routine, Kathy found herself servicing two potential buyers at the same time.
Lori had summoned Kathy into her office, and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “Darren and Mike, in there,” she nodded toward the side office, “are hemming and hawing. You go in and offer to get them drinks or whatever to help with their decision-making. Okay?” Kathy had flirted shamelessly – her own words – with them, while preparing and sharing drinks. They got the idea that her teasing was serious when she quietly locked the door and drew the shades. Sashaying over to Darren, she reached for his fly while leaning in to plant a passionate kiss on his lips.
His penis sprang out of his shorts like a tensioned spring and, as Kathy lowered her mouth onto it, Mike moved in behind, roughly pulling her panties aside, before ramming himself balls-deep into her unprepared pussy. “Luckily,” she said, “I had already begun to moisten in anticipation of my ‘duties’.”
It took well over and hour, and almost a dozen orgasms among the three of them, to convince them to sign a deal with Lori – but they eventually did. Kathy was exhausted, but happy, as she straightened her clothes and kissed both ‘gentlemen’ good-bye at the door.
The next day, Lori handed Kathy a thick envelope for cash. “Your bonus,” Lori chirped, “for a job well done.” Just flipping through the stacks of bills, Kathy could see that it was a very generous bonus, indeed. She blushed a bit as she recalled the details of said job. “Just think of it as a commission,” Lori purred as she turned to leave.
Staring at the bundle in her hand, Kathy ignored the little voice in the back of her mind that pointed out it could just as easily be considered payment for services rendered – ie: whore’s wages!
Later in the day, Lori and Barrett suggested that Kathy set up a secret stash – not a bank account – a safety-deposit-box, maybe, somewhere secret – secret even from me. For my own protection, they explained, apparently employing a bit of dubious logic; and hide all but a small percentage – a nest-egg, for a rainy day. Not knowing what else to do, and trusting them, she followed their advice.
Kathy’s experiences had continued to accumulate during her many repeat performances, and she had participated in – or, more precisely, facilitated – a few more threesomes when her first foursome occurred. Once again, she was sent to the clients’ hotel suite to get a final agreement signed.
Once the business was complete and the deal signed, the delegation – three middle-aged executives – began raucous cheering and passing around drinks in what to Kathy was a rather adolescent celebration. Still, she was pulled in – basically forced to join in the silly revelry. And soon they were dancing and spinning with her; all taking turns, constantly refilling her champagne glass. Kathy tempered her drinking as she wanted to keep her wits about her. The clients continued, drinking and swinging her into bear hugs that crushed her bosom into their chests.
As alcohol loosened tongues, reduced inhibitions, and obscured propriety, the chatter became, as it is wont to do in such circumstances, lewd and suggestive. Kathy was surprised to hear her behavior and reputation bandied about. She was more than a little mortified to learn that her activities were becoming public knowledge, furthermore, she realized that that fact threatened the sustainability of her running deception.
Notwithstanding, she realized she would still have to keep the customers satisfied – regardless of their moral opinions. She was still expected to earn her ‘commissions’ and the attendant ‘brownie points’. So Kathy set her concerns aside and flung herself into the fray, once again, beginning by necking with each guy, and encouraging them all to grope and grab. Once they got underway, the head of the group said, “Okay, let’s take it to the bedroom. What’s the point of a king-sized bed if you don’t use it, eh wot?”
The three of them were all on the drunk side of tipsy as they hustled her into the bedroom. Kathy rolled her eyes as she recalled. “They actually played ‘Rock-Paper-Scissors’ to determine who went first!” and as they set to poking and prodding, they were each a little ‘sloppy and floppy’ – to start, at least.
Kathy did her best to facilitate their pleasure, and, at one point, while she took one of them doggie-style while another thrust in and out of her mouth, the third fellow called out, “Dibs on her ass!”
“Airtight!” her fucker shouted, like a teen at a frat party, and pulled out, quickly worming his way beneath her. Now, while Kathy had been fucked anally several times before, she was unfamiliar with being ‘airtight’. The three ‘gentlemen’ obviously knew what to do, though. In a flurry of pushing and pulling, they positioned her and impaled her on the slick and rampant erection straining under her. The instigator swiped her anus with a handful of lube, and immediately started forcing his ingress. Kathy breath caught in her throat at first, but the insistent tool popped smoothly into her rosebud without any further discomfort.
After a brief pause, Kathy took up her felatio again, rocking and grunting to the rhythm set up by the other two. Each of them took a turn in each orifice, and they came several times each. Kathy said that once she got started, she enjoyed countless climaxes, both mini, and full-blown. “I loved it,” she remarked, still oddly clinical in her affect.
Kathy’s first true gangbang happened a little while later. “We were at a trade show – a two-day event – and, the second day, Barrett had invited a few shakers-and-movers up to our hospitality suite.” She told me that she had already serviced a few special clients, the first day of the convention. Her clinical objectivity wavered a little when she began to recall the second day’s incident. Once the guests were all settled with drinks, it was Lori who asked Kathy, in a loud, staged voice, to “Give us a strip-tease, dear, like you do so well!” Nothing surprised Kathy any longer, so, finding a suitable music station on the stereo, she began to writhe and gyrate like a pro. When she was virtually naked – down to heels, stockings, and garter – she beckoned, at Lori’s suggestion, the guests into the suite’s bedroom.
“I’ll spare you the sordid details,” Kathy muttered, “but suffice it to say that once we’d gotten started, I quickly lost track of who fucked me where and how many times.” The long and short of it was that she was constantly dicked, in one orifice or another, for hours and hours. Kathy said she’d worried, somewhere in the back of her mind, that, by the time she got home, she would be so loose and slick that I couldn’t help but notice – tell-tale giveaways, for sure.
Kathy admitted here that she had been overwhelmed by the first gangbang. She had arrived home that night still vibrating from the echoes of the excitement, and had had to make a conscious, deliberate effort to mute the enchanted sparkle in her eyes, in order to carry on her deception – to keep me from becoming suspicious. The thrill of her illicit activities balanced out the guilt, and allowed her to function. While I didn’t remember specifically, she reminded me she was a tiger in bed that night – super-aggressive, in part because her naughtiness made her horny and partly to take my attention off the well-used aspects of her sex.
Over the months she had been at this, and it turned out to have been many months, Kathy had been very busy. “I visited, on many occasions, the high-end hotel suites of potential customers, with the sole intension of drumming up business, you understand.” Her droll delivery lost none of its flat matter-of-fact tone, even when she added, “And it very often worked.” All the while she was adding commissions and bonuses to her secret stash.
Around that time, it occurred to her that her sexual-favour duties had begun to outweigh her legitimate work; and that concerned her, but she had no time to dwell on it. Her additional duties, the miscellaneous assignations, were innumerable.
Kathy paused in her account to note, “With each new depravity there was a sense of self-disgust growing in the back of my mind.” She hesitated, then continued in her aside. “No. That’s not exactly true. There should have been a growing sense of self-disgust, but instead, I was reveling in the thrills generated by each lewd and novel experience.” The one negative was the guilt she felt, over the continued deception – the ongoing betrayal. “Although,” she rationalized, “it wasn’t really betrayal, as nothing was taken away from our relationship. My love for you never faltered!” And I guess I had to agree, inasmuch as I really had had no clue – not an inkling of what had been going on right under my nose, for so long!
During all that time, Kathy had continued the lesbian trysts with her boss. While not as frequent, still once or twice a week; as well as random fucking with her boss’s husband. Everything was sailing smoothly, until, suddenly, inevitably, albeit unexpectedly, the inevitable happened. She got caught by me, her husband.
I had been brought back into town from another project, on very short notice, to attend this particular conference. Following the only presentation I was interested, I had, in fairly short order, made my way to the hospitality suite. As clichéd as it was, I was surprised to spot Kathy, across the crowded room, completely unaware of my presence, cosying up to a stranger, dressed like a tart. Feigning ignorant curiosity, I asked a colleague who she was. “I don’t know if she’s a call girl or an employee of the Halliborns, but I understand that she’s very good at ‘keeping the customers happy!’ If you know what I mean. Nudge, nudge!”
I didn’t have to think long on the meaning of that, as I watched Kathy slip out, giggling, with a man, whose hands were all over her. Discovering that my wife was a company whore was, to put it mildly, quite a surprise; however, the fact that I was even there showed that I wasn’t all that innocent. It was easy to reserve judgement. When she emerged, a half-hour later, from the bedroom, I approached her from the side and whispered in her ear, “We’ll have a lot to talk about when we get home.”
She jumped and stumbled and stuttered and went pale. I could feel her shocked gaze drilling into my back as I left her with a dismissive wave and a flippant, “Later!”
I walked to my rental car, and headed home to have a drink while I waited. “What next?” I wondered, images of my dear wife running across the screen of my mind like so many X-rated movies.
Kathy said she was, quite understandably, preoccupied for the rest of the evening. She arrived home hours later, sneaking in apprehensively. I greeted her calmly, and with some prodding she eventually told full story – totally objectively, like she was filing a report, in complete and precise detail.
She recounted it as if it were a routine journey up the corporate ladder. I was amazed, and embarrassed that it had gone on so long without my even being suspicious – one of the costs of being a workaholic, I s’pose. She talked about ‘brownie points’ and future promotions. I kept my mouth shut, but it seemed clear to me that she had already fabricated her own glass ceiling. At that point, she could never have risen further than Executive Personal Assistant, which was, in this case, a cute euphemism for office slut.
I was curious, but, curiously, not angry. I suppose I put it down to, “The things people do to further their corporate ambitions.” I figured I was the same – really. Only the circumstances were different. So, it was, for me, easy to forgive. Furthermore, I loved her, and she proclaimed she still loved me. “I really, really like my job,” she protested, a hint of pleading in her voice.
“And,” I thought – but kept to myself, “if part of that job is official company slut, so what?”
Shrugging her shoulders, she continued thoughtfully. “I don’t know how, exactly, in my scramble up the corporate hierarchy, I somehow became a purveyor of sexual favours,” adding, with a wry flourish, “…and I’m good at it – satisfaction guaranteed!”
Drilling me with her glaze, she reached out to touch my hand, and gave it a squeeze. “But I love only you!”
In the six weeks following my discovery, Kathy spent a lot of time – much of her time – entertaining customers and inducing investment. We didn’t let on to anyone that I was party to her secret life. As I’d requested, she kept me faithfully apprised of her activities and duties. In many ways, in most ways, nothing had changed.
Nights after especially active jobs, she would come home with preternatural glitter in her eyes, and relate the details of some especially lurid experience, while trying to fuck me to death. During one evening’s debriefing, Kathy confessed that, somewhere along the line, it had become less about the brownie points and more about the sex – the stimulus and satisfaction, the arousal and climax.
“I don’t know,” she pondered aloud, “Have I simply become a nymphomaniac?” Looking up at her as she rode me to yet another orgasm, I didn’t know what to say, so I just shrugged, and let her intense sexual allure sweep me away.
The last business function Kathy participated in was a big gala, organized by Barrett himself and heralding the latest Halliborn product. All of the Halliborns’ clients and associates, past and present, were invited. The unveiling or product introduction was to be held in one of the convention-centre ballrooms. Furthermore, Lori and Barrett had rented a large suite, upstairs, to be used as their hospitality suite, as well as a couple satellite suites, on the same floor. The larger suite had a huge bedroom, ideal for the sort of hanky-panky Kathy dealt with.
I wasn’t invited, still playing the part of the ‘clueless husband’ and all, but I eventually got the whole story, in the same emotionlessly, precise detail as earlier.
Before leaving the office for the event, that morning, Lori had pulled Kathy aside and given Kathy a very large bonus – her largest yet by a long shot – saying they, she and Barrett, just wanted to make sure she got it, as they may be leaving the event a bit early. They’d stay, of course, for all the speechifying, but may, she warned, leave during the festivities.
Glancing into the envelope, Kathy was so shocked by the amount of the bonus that she didn’t think to ask why they might be leaving early. “Thanks for all your hard work,” Lori purred, touching Kathy on the arm and leaning in to buzz her on the cheek. Turning on her heel, she waved. “See you downtown.”
Kathy stopped to deposit most of the cash in her secret hidey-place account, before making her way to the hotel’s convention hall. She surveyed the room, to ensure its readiness, then ascended to the company’s suite. And soon the event got underway.
Later, while mingling with the cocktail crowd in the hospitality suite – but still early enough in the proceedings that there remained an air of propriety – Hank, a powerful exec and blustery fifty-something business associate of the Halliborns whom Kathy had serviced at other times, caught her and introduced Celena as his new PA – “Nudge, nudge, wink, wink!”
Seeming just a little overwhelmed, Celena was in her twenties and a real looker. After a short exchange, Hank gave his new employee over to Kathy’s care. “Go teach her something about personal assistance,” he said giving Kathy a big histrionic wink. “Some of your infamous tricks,” he added, passing Celena’s arm to Kathy. “Go have fun, girls,” he said with a loud guffaw, turning to leave. “I’ll catch you later, Celena.” As Kathy ushered her toward the bedroom Celena was blustery, and wild-eyed.
Pausing in her telling, Kathy gave me a wry look, before adding, “She reminded me of myself – eager to get it right, so willing to go beyond the nine dots.”
Resuming her tale: Kathy took her into the bedroom, and closed the door quietly, where, after much talk, and discussion of the toys Kathy had already laid out on the nightstand, they began to caress and explore one another. Celena had picked up a double-ender, raising a brow in question. Kathy explained she had bought it, just in case, but never used it. Kathy had, in fact, tended to several female clients, but had never gone farther than cunnilingus.
Anyway, there, midday, with a room full of businessmen only an unlocked door away, Kathy and Celena ended up madly fucking one another, with the double-ended dildo – “Just to try it out, you see,” Kathy asserted with an almost comical matter-of-factness. Kathy added a glass-bead dildo into the mix, which after adequately lubricating, she threaded slowly into Celena’s tight anus. Celena gasped, but, to her credit, did not complain. “You’ve got to be prepared for all eventualities in our position,” Kathy explained. Although, she admitted to me in the retelling that it was more a demonstration of her dominance in the relationship. “In retrospect,” she confessed, “it was a pretty thinly disguised bit of power-mongering, I suppose.” She shrugged. “So it goes.”
When they were done – and satisfied – Kathy directed Celena to wash and dry the toys. “Always make sure your tools are clean,” she’d advised with a wink. Gathering and rearranging their clothing, Kathy ushered Celena out of the bedroom, back into the main suite. “Now go make people happy!” she’d chuckled, giving Celena a push. Smiling, Kathy realized that she may just have to steer Celena into the second bedroom. She’d cross that bridge when she got to it. Scanning the room, she caught sight of Celena, already schmoozing, then she left the suite to head back to the ballroom – the gala.
Kathy caught sight of the Halliborns heading down the hall, away from the ballroom, towards the exit. Heading the wrong way, she thought, but shrugged it off. “If I hadn’t been so preoccupied, I might have wondered why they were leaving their own party so early.”
A while later found herself back in the suite’s master bedrooms, pressing a client rep back against the bureau. Kathy was engaged in active felatio, while simultaneously reaming his ass with the glass-bead dildo she’d used on Celena, earlier. Her partner, bouncing his butt against the dresser, had his head thrown back and was whimpering piteously as he pushed into the edges of his impending climax.
Suddenly a woman appeared at their side and started screaming – cursing the man Kathy was currently servicing, the woman’s errant husband, she turned on Kathy, just as the man, the husband started to cum in Kathy’s mouth. Instinctively she forced herself hard onto the ejaculating tool, deep-throating him, to milk every last drop of cum he could produce.
“Get away from him, you whore!” The distressed wife grabbed the giant double-ended dildo – handy on the bureau – and swung it at Kathy, walloping her on the side of the head. Kathy pulled off the suddenly shriveling, still dripping erection, and drew the glass dildo swiftly out of its sheath – the husband’s rectum. She swung blindly, slashing back at her attacker. The shit-smeared glass shaft caught the woman on the cheek. And shattered!
There was blood everywhere!
Hotel security arrived instantaneously, or so it seemed. Before Kathy could even find her clothes, she was grabbed and held until the police arrived – which didn’t seem to take long, amidst all the yelling and crying, and pointing of fingers. Kathy was arrested and cuffed so fast it made her head spin. Eventually given a blanket, pulled over her shoulders and held in front by a female officer, she was taken to the station.
I wasn’t worried that Kathy hadn’t arrived home by midnight, but I was concerned that she hadn’t called by 8:00 the next morning. Just as I’d decided to start calling around, I got the call. She was in jail – charged with prostitution and assault! She couldn’t talk much. She asked that I please contact our lawyer. I said I would, and rang off – shocked, perhaps more than I should have been, but shocked, nonetheless.
The following day, Sunday, Kathy called to tell me bail was set at a hundred grand. She asked, uncertainty colouring her voice, if I’d pay it. “Of course!” I replied, surprised. I got it arranged Monday morning and paid it. She was home, wearing paper coveralls, in the late afternoon. After getting showered and dressed, she pleaded exhaustion – understandably – and promised to give me a full account the next day. She chose to sleep, that night, in the spare bedroom. Having little idea what she was going through, I didn’t question it. I’m sure neither of us slept well that night – I know I didn’t!
The next day, with a glass of wine in hand, she told me all that had happened - once again, with a flat affect, in vivid and precise detail. Still, she was devastated; about the assault, about everything. Much of the day was quiet – pregnantly introspective. But later, in the evening, on the news, was an item about a local business couple, who had vanished. The Halliborns had disappeared, along with all of the liquid assets of their company – over forty million dollars. The money had been traced, initially, to and through an island bank in the Caribbean, from which it had vanished.
They, the Halliborns, had, it seems, been to object of an ongoing fraud investigation. That news upset Kathy even more. She had trusted the Halliborns – oddly enough, she had trusted them both – and she had thought of Lori as a mentor.
Kathy excused herself, and went quietly to bed – to our bed, in the master bedroom. I followed her in short order, not knowing what else to do, not knowing what to expect.
I slipped under the covers silently, and, without a word, Kathy snuggled against me. Putting my arms around her shoulders, I folded her into my chest and held still for a long moment – our clasp, tender and soothing – waiting until her breathing settled to a steady rhythm. She lifted her chin and our lips touched, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. After a while her fingers began to move between us, playing a soft tattoo against my nipples, calm and gentle. I dropped one hand, sliding over the smooth warmth of her skin to rest a feather-touch on the perfect curve of her hip. She started pushing harder against my kiss, probing hungrily with her tongue. Her fingers danced with increasing frenzy on my chest. Slowly, I lifted my hand from her hip, cupping her boob and twiddling her nipple in time with her fingers on me.
Her chest began to heave as she threw her head back to draw a ragged breath. Simultaneously, we each dropped a hand between us – hers to grip and stroke my throbbing erection, mine to dip fingers into her flowing pussy. Kathy gasped and jerked as I swirled around her clitoris, quivers running over her skin. Letting my fingertips retreat a sec, before dipping into her again, I played her like the instrument she was, nudging her along in a gradual, steady arousal; until a desperation rose in her, lighting a fierce sense of urgency. Kathy seemed to draw energy from me and my caresses. As her hips began to thrust and bounce, I slowly lowered myself, placing my swollen cock-head between her glistening labia. Without hesitation, I pushed into her – with one long, steady stroke.
Grabbing my ass with both hands, she pulled at me as if trying to consume me. Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, eliciting a shocked shriek that melted into a squeal of excruciating delight. At the point of ignition, Kathy’s spasming vagina detonated my climax, too. I could feel the torrents of semen jetting from my cock, washing away my here and now, leaving me vibrating insensate, collapsed against my still quaking wife.
The shared ecstasy of that orgasm seemed to blank out, for the moment, all the other shit. I knew that what we’d just had was special – so much more than mere sex, than just fucking, we had really, truly made love. And as the afterglow spread over us tears welled up in Kathy’s eyes. Tears of joy or sadness, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t ask. But at that moment, I knew she loved me and I’m sure she knew that I truly loved her – regardless of her trespasses and sins, despite the shitstorm she currently found herself in. Catching our breath, slowly, we laid still in the gathering silence, and, bodies entwined, we went to sleep.
I was aware that Kathy got up in the middle of the night but thought nothing of it. I figured she was just brooding – contemplating.
In the morning, she was gone. She’d left a short tear-stained letter on the breakfast table. It read:
Dear, dearest Tom,
I can’t stay, although I can’t really say why. I have my nest-egg, and it’s large enough to last for years.
Never, ever doubt that I love you. It’s hard to consider living without you. You will always be the biggest piece of my heart!
I’d like to think that I could come back one day. I know, you’ve every reason to hate me, and I would be silly to think that you’d wait – but I can always hope!
Goodbye and farewell!
Love always,
Kathy
I’m sort of waiting. It’s been eleven months so far, and I haven’t heard a word. The initial police scrutiny has all but stopped, now. I’m dating and getting laid, but nothing serious, yet. Yeah, still waiting, I guess.
