Heather Collins was furious. She was sure her husband Scott was having an affair with his secretary Marcy. Oh sure, the young redhead tried to hide her voluptuous figure and sexy allure behind conservative dress and professional manor. But Heather knew better.
She and Scott had been married happily for five years, but the very day Marcy was hired, she had a feeling about the girl. For the first few days after the redhead showed up, all Heather could think about was her husband screwing his new employee.
At first she pushed such thoughts aside, absolutely sure that her husband would be faithful. But as the months dragged on, the more she saw Marcy, the more she doubted Scott's ability to resist her.
The last straw came at the beginning of the week. Scott had called and said he'd be working late that night. When he finally got home later that evening he seemed exhausted and went straight to bed.
When she asked him what was going on, he claimed he was working on a huge project for his firm and that he'd probably be working late for the rest of the week. Sure enough, the next two nights he stayed at work well past 9pm.
The extra time alone had not been good for Heather. She'd tried to distract herself with chores, but the whole time all she could imagine was Marcy bent over her husband's desk, getting rammed from behind. Or Marcy giving Scott a blowjob while he sat in his chair. Or Scott banging the gorgeous redhead against the office door.
Desperate, Heather went out drinking with her friends. Those closest to her and Scott told her she was overreacting, that she should trust her husband. But every time she heard their advice, Heather would think of her man fucking his secretary.
When Scott got home that night he found a very angry and very drunk wife waiting for him.
"'Bout time you showed up," she slurred.
"I'm sorry honey, but you know I'm working on this huge project."
"Sure, sure. You must love your job more than me."
"You know that's not true. Come on, lets get you to bed and you can sleep off all that alcohol."
She reluctantly agreed. When they reached the bedroom, Heather pulled Scott close and kissed him hard. A depressing (and very booze influenced) thought came to her that this might be the last time she ever kissed him.
Then she passed out.
The next morning over breakfast, Heather sheepishly apologized for her behavior the night before.
"I know you don't love your work more than me. I just ... I guess I'm just feeling lonely."
Scott took her hand and squeezed it affectionately. "Tell you what. When this project is finished, how about I take some time off and we go somewhere, just the two of us?"
"Absolutely. How about ... Aruba? You've always wanted to go."
"Oh darling, that'd be great." She kissed him passionately.
"Alright. I'll have Marcy order the tickets today. See you tonight." He pecked her on the cheek and left.
Marcy. Heather's elation at getting away with her husband was shattered at the sound of that name. For the rest of the day all she could imagine was Scott taking Marcy to Aruba, the slutty redhead wearing nothing but the most scandalous of swimwear over her tight young body.
Her imaginings got worse and worse as the day went on. By late afternoon, she was picturing Scott fucking Marcy for the whole flight to Aruba, then banging her on the beach during the day, then drilling her all night at their hotel.
What Heather hadn't noticed was that she'd begun rubbing herself during her angry visions. Only when she suddenly climaxed during a particularly erotic fantasy did she realize how aroused she'd become.
After coming down from her orgasm, she burst into tears. She was distraught at how little she trusted her husband, enraged that she was still certain he was cheating on her, and ashamed at how she'd just gotten off on it.
A few minutes later she composed herself enough to decide she needed to talk to her husband, now. She got in her car, determined to find out for herself once and for all whether he was cheating on her.
At first she was confident, even a little glad that she was finally taking action. But as she got closer to Scott's office, doubt and fear began creeping back in. Fresh thoughts of how her husband must have given in to temptation plagued her mind. Paranoia mixed with lust, causing her to no longer think straight.
When she thought of Marcy and those luscious red locks of hers, those sexy smooth legs, those perfect perky tits ... how could any man resist that? The closer she got, the more her heart broke as she became more and more certain she'd lost the love of her life.
By the time she got to the elevator, her whole body was shaking. She wasn't sure if she was about to break down crying or fly into a murderous rage, but she knew whatever was coming was going to happen soon.
It was already past normal working hours, so the whole floor was deserted as she stalked her way to her husband's office. All too soon she was standing outside his door. She swallowed hard. He could be fucking her right now. He probably was fucking her right now. Hell, he'd probably been fucking her all week, or maybe since she was hired!
She wrenched open the door and stormed in.
Marcy and Scott looked up, startled.
Scott was behind his desk, hands on his keyboard, papers strewn all about him. Marcy was sitting in a chair across the room from him, her laptop in front of her.
"Heather, what're you doing here?"
"I can't believe this!" Heather yelled, not completely in control of herself anymore. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Heather, please, calm down," Scott soothed.
"Don't tell me to calm down! Do you know what it's been like this entire week, waiting for you to come home, knowing you were here with her?"
Marcy looked between husband and wife, her face scared. "Um, maybe I should leave you two alone," she stammered, quickly trying to exit the room.
But Heather grabbed her and kept her form leaving. "I mean look at her! She's fucking beautiful! How can you actually be working when this slut is right here practically begging you to fuck her?"
"Mrs. Collins, I would never-"
Heather ignored her protests, still clinging to her. "How can you have spent 14 hours a day with her for the past four days and not fucked her? She's so sexy, so soft, so..."
And then it hit her. For all the times she'd thought about Scott cheating on her, she'd also imagined how sexy Marcy was. The feeling she'd had when they'd first met wasn't jealousy, it was attraction. And now that she was so close to her, close enough to smell her delicious scent, close enough to feel the heat between their bodies, Heather realized her memory hadn't done the redhead justice.
She lunged forward, kissing the startled secretary like a woman possessed. Scott, who had been trying to calm his wife down the whole time, felt his jaw drop. Marcy tried to disengage from her, but found the older woman's release of pent up lust too hard to overcome.
Heather had the sexy redhead pinned against the wall, running her hands all over the secretary's nubile flesh. Her lustful ardor and her roaming carresses combined with all the recent stress from work, overwhelming Marcy's will to resist.
Soon the younger woman was returning the kiss with equal passion, clutching Heather's head and sliding one of her silky legs up and down her thigh.
Having barely gotten over his initial shock, Scott continued to stare blankly at the sapphic display in front of him. Finally, after what seemed like minutes of making out, the two women parted lips, panting heavily.
Getting the slightest bit of reason back, Heather knew she should stop, knew her previous fears were unfounded. But as she looked into Marcy's eyes, she could see her own lust being returned. The redhead smiled seductively at her, telling her all she needed to know: she wanted more.
Heather grabbed the secretary's blouse and yanked it open, revealing a sexy black lace bra underneath. WIth another quick tug, she freed the redhead's luscious tits and began sucking and licking them.
"Oh, yes, Heather, YES! Just like that baby."
Feeding off Marcy's encouragement, Heather redoubled her assault on the hot flesh in front of her. The secretary's moans got louder and louder.
Dropping to her knees, Heather quickly unzipped and discarded Marcy's skirt. The redhead was wearing matching black lace panties as well as a black garter belt. Impatiently, Heather pushed the silky material aside and plunged her tongue into the secretary's snatch.
Marcy cried out sharply in pleasure, revelling in the talented motions of Heather's tongue. The younger woman had fooled around with other girls a few times during college, but none of those times was nearly as arousing as having her boss's wife eat her out.
.... There is more of this story ...