Chapter 3

I saw my slut wife's pretty foot, still wearing the six inch-heeled shoe with the ankle strap securely locked, extend through the open limo door. Then, her leg. Wait! He pulled her back into the limo. They closed the door.

What was happening? What were they doing?

Was he going to fuck her right there? With the driver able to see and hear them, with all the neighbors watching on this Sunday evening?

There was Mr. Gleason across the street watering his flowers. He was watching the limo, watching from the corner of his eye. Did he know his sweet little neighbor, Becky, the pretty school teacher, was going to be fucked inside that big car with its black windows?

I waited. My cock was so hard in my pants, so hard. I had beat off just an hour ago, beat off like she told me to do so I could last longer for her.

Was the limo moving? Did I see it rock gently? Were they fucking in there? Maybe she was sucking his cock, her sweet lips with their bright red lipstick wrapped around his huge cock? Moving back and forth. Maybe, up her ass again. She had loved that, loved it when I watched my boss fuck my wife's ass. She was tied over the desk in his office then. Oh, how I wished I could be inside that limo watching them!

How long would they make me wait? How long? I have never seen the second hand on my watch move so slowly. What could I do? I had to wait, wait at the door watching the black limo parked in front of my house. Wondering.

The door is opening again. Yes.

Mr. Williams stepped out of the limousine. I could not see her, see Becky, his slut, my wife. It had been since Friday and now it was Sunday night. She had been with him all weekend.

What had happened?

Mr. Williams looked perfectly groomed and dressed as if he just stepped from a shower. He bent over to help someone from the limo. I saw her foot again. I saw her leg, the hem of her dress. Ah! There she was. Oh, my. Becky looked well fucked. I opened the house door and ran down the sidewalk towards them. She saw me coming and smiled. She was exhausted. As I got closer, I could see the white stains on her face and dress. I was beside her now, slipping my behind her back to support her.

"She has had a rough weekend, Bob. And, this week will be tough."

He stuffed a piece of paper in my pocket.

"Have her there at six in the morning. Do not be late. Then, when they say you can leave, come to my office."

"Yes, sir."

"Goodbye, slut," Mr. Williams said to my wife.

He kissed her hard, one hand on the nape of her neck. I saw the other go through the opening of her dress. He was playing with her pussy. Right here in broad daylight on Sunday evening with all the neighbors home, my boss was playing with his slut's pussy. With my wife's pussy. I quickly glanced around to see if any neighbors were watching.

Was Mr. Gleason the only one watching as he played with her pussy? Mr. Gleason watching as he watered his flowers. Did he have a hard on? Was his cock bursting in his pants as mine was?

"I had a wonderful time, Mr. Williams," she said, although it was said gasping as if she were in pain.

"Good. We will do it again in a few weeks. Goodbye."

He jumped in the limo and left us there. The dress had fallen open. Could anyone see her? She her nakedness? She the cum on her thigh? Her clit ring glistening with wetness? Becky looked at me and blushed. Ashamedly, she held the dress around her, looking down.

"Please, Bobby, I hurt. Will you carry me in?" she said very softly.

I lifted her in my arms, carrying her into the house, to our bedroom where I gently set her down on the bed. She fumbled through her purse and handed me a tiny key.

"Take the shoes off, Bobby, please. They have not been off all weekend. My feet are killing me."

I unfastened the tiny lock and undid the buckle. Her feet were swollen.

"Oh, migod, that hurts," she moaned as I pulled the left shoe off her. I started to massage her foot. "No. Get the other one off," she whimpered. When both shoes were off, she fell back on the bed. Her feet were swollen and puffy. I began to rub them.

"That feels so good," she moaned.

Her dress was open all the way, leaving her naked in front of me. Her pussy was bruised, the lips still swollen. As I looked at it, white cum oozed slowly from her and slid down the crack of her ass. She extended one of her long, red tipped, finger nails and plucked the cum from her dripping cunt. I watched as she brought her hand over her mouth. She opened her mouth wide, waiting, waiting for his cum to drop.

Slowly, the drop fell into her open mouth, like nectar falling from a spoon to a waiting babe. She stuck her finger in her mouth, slurping loudly to clean it.

"I love the taste of cum," she sighed contentedly.

"Becky, what happened?"

"Oh, Bobby, I will tell you all about it later. Go draw me a real hot bath and get me a drink, will you, please?"

As I stood, she stuck two fingers up her pussy, swishing them around. Again, she took the cum to her wanting mouth, licking herself clean, taking in all the cum my boss had left in her willing pussy. When I returned from getting her drink and drawing the bath water, she was naked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"My feet hurt. Please, help me." I carried her into the bathroom, sitting her on the edge of the tub.

"Oh, oh, oh, that feels so good," she groaned as she slid into the steaming water.

I was hard as a rock, my cock throbbing in my pants. What had ha ppened to her? What had they done? I had seen her thighs. What had happened to them? And, now, as she lay back in the tub, I could see her breasts, her stomach. Oh, Becky had a hard weekend! But, had she liked it? Was she still happy being my boss' slut? I needed to know!

The dried cum on her face was softening from the steaming water. Her makeup was starting to run. I knew I had to have a picture. I ran for our camera. She looked so slutty with cum and eyeliner dirtying her face, I just had to have a picture.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"You look so slutty. I wanted a picture."

She laughed. "Bobby, they made videos of this weekend. You can look at your boss' slut all you want."

She finished her bourbon and coke and handed me the glass, asking for another. When I returned, she learned forward.

"Kiss for your boss' slut?"

I kissed her. I could taste the cum, his cum, in her kiss. It was the cum she had taken from her swollen cunt just before she got in the bath.

"Did you beat off like I told you to?" she asked, watching me intently.

I felt the blush rise in my face and my cock twitch in my pants.

"Yes."

"How many times?"

"Ten."

"Ten. Wow, good for you. Next time, Bobby, I want you to beat off into a glass and save it for me. I want to drink your cum when I get home. Your cum, Bobby, yours, the cum you shot thinking of your slutty wife fucking your boss. Oh, Bobby, think of it. As I am fucking your boss, taking his big cock deep in me, you are beating off into a glass. So, really two men are giving me their cum to drink. Oh, how deliciously slutty!"

"All right. I will save it next time."

"Good. Now let me rest in the water a while and then I will tell you about my weekend," she said with a tired smile.

I sat on the stool and waited. Soon, she finished her drink, asked for another refill and lathered the wash cloth. Leisurely, she began rubbing her breasts. I saw her wince when the cloth rubbed the blue spot.

"Do my hair, please, Bobby," she asked softly.

I kneeled on the floor beside the tub. After pouring shampoo on her silky hair, I began to rub, building a lather, scrubbing her hair clean for her, for Becky, my wife. Slowly, I rubbed, the lather, rich and sweet smelling, oozing between my fingers, sliding her smooth back in white globs. Globs, soft and wet, sliding down her silky skin. Just as his cum had slid down her face, her breasts, like big globs of cum.

Then, she pulled the stopper and the tub started to drain. She stood and pulled the shower curtain, leaving me still kneeling by the tub. I heard the shower go on as she rinsed herself, rinsing away the grime and the cum. Shower off, she reached for a towel and I handed it to her.

Did she know how I ached, how my dick hurt and my balls? Did she know how much I wanted her? Why was she making me wait?

"Honey, why are you making me wait?"

She ripped back the shower curtain. Her eyes were blazing, her face red, the muscles in her throat corded.

"If you were a real man, you would not let make you wait. You would take me when you wanted me. But, if you were a real man, I would not be a slut just so I can have a child. You made me a slut, you short dicked wimp! Now, get out of my bathroom!"