The Work of Art - Cover

The Work of Art

Copyright© 2025 by Mohawk08

Chapter 12: - Charlotte

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 12: - Charlotte - A young husband learns he has the power to grant permission, and his young wife learns how to take advantage of it.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Cuckold   Sharing   Wife Watching   Group Sex   Anal Sex   Double Penetration   Voyeurism   Big Breasts  

The ride home in the limo was weird at first as I tried to send the video to Carl. I got it done, but Mr Stein wouldn’t let me send any note with it. I was feeling shy and so guilty, so Mr. Stein pulled me back onto his lap and kissed me.

I know I wasn’t supposed to kiss him. I didn’t have permission for that. In fact, Carl said we couldn’t, but how do you not kiss someone you’re gonna have sex with, wanna have sex with? I don’t know.

Mr. Stein looked so good tonight in his beautiful well-tailored suit. He looked important and powerful. And he smelled so good! I didn’t expect to actually be attracted to him, to enjoy kissing him so much.

I have seen him around work everyday for the last few years and never had the least interest in him physically. He’s not good looking, and his face is so damaged by the sun. But tonight, he just looked so good.

When he said I didn’t get to cum yet, I didn’t expect him to slide his hand up my dress and under my thong. I didn’t expect him to slip a finger into my pussy. I didn’t expect him to rub my button so well. I didn’t expect to give him such a light protest. I didn’t expect to cum so hard as he said really dirty things into my gasping mouth.

I felt helpless in his arms. It’s really weird knowing how I felt about him just a few weeks before and how much I adore my beautiful husband. How could I love to be touched by this old man when I have a godlike man at home? What was wrong with me?

In Carl’s big warm arms, I feel safe and comfortable and loved. In Mr. Stein’s smaller but still strong arms, I felt dirty and dangerous and so, so alive.

When we arrived home, Mr. Stein walked me to my door. But he kissed me in the elevator and in the hallway outside our door. He had me pushed up against the it and was rubbing his big bulge against my thigh.

“Do you want me to come in?” He asked.

“No, you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t be trusted. You keep breaking the rules.”

“You keep breaking the rules, too.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“You don’t trust yourself with me. You want me to fuck you.”

“Stop. We can’t.”

“But you want it, don’t you.”

“I can’t. We don’t have permission.” When did ‘you’ don’t have permission become ‘we’ don’t have permission?

“You are a strong willed woman, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I’m a good girl.”

“For now, anyway. I will see you tomorrow in my office first thing.”

“Ok.”

“Say, yes sir, Mr. Stein.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Stein.”

“Smart girl.”

And he was gone. I stood there in a daze and watched him walk around the corner. My lips were raw from kissing and sucking. They were probably swollen like a cartoon character. I had to call Carl. I would look so guilty, so no FaceTime tonight.

 
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