Chapter 27: Caught Cheating

Mon Oct 1

Deacon Robert Ramsay was losing sleep with business worries... girl business worries and when he left for work on Monday he was so tired that he forgot his laptop computer that had the contact information for all of his employees and most importantly, the names, addresses, phone numbers and e-mail addresses for the girls that he and George Smart sponsored in their free enterprise businesses that had moved them into comfortable income brackets. And those damned do-good women were preventing another impoverished immigrant from earning her piece of prosperity.

By the time he remembered his laptop his reverie had given him a feeling of contentment. He and his partner were actually philanthropists in a way. They were using their expertise and contacts to provide a better life for some disadvantaged girls. For the moment he forgot that they were being well rewarded for their services, better rewarded than the girls who did the work.

In all it was about thirty minutes from the time he left until he returned home to pick up his laptop. To his surprise there was a Porsche parked in the driveway and then he recognized it as George's mechanical plaything. He must have come to discuss some business although they always tried to have their business discussions away from home. Oh well, no matter. Marilyn always respected the privacy of his home office.

Ramsay parked beside the Porsche and went in the back door, expecting to find George and Marilyn having coffee in the kitchen. They weren't there nor were they anywhere else on the first floor. With a vague feeling of apprehension Robert climbed the stairs.

Their bedroom was a big front room, first on the left in the hallway just at the top of the stairs. He noticed the door was shut and there were no sounds that he could hear coming from the room on the other side of it.

Anyhow, he honestly suspected nothing untoward. He and Marilyn had been married for almost twenty years and she was a good Christian. He'd known George for more than a decade and he too was a good Christian, at least in Deacon Ramsay's eyes. Pimping wasn't a sin for him nor was coercing his immigrant girls to have sex a sin.

He opened the door normally, quickly to full-width, to be confronted by the long, pale form of his partner, completely naked, his torso, hips and thighs enwrapped by Marilyn's equally naked arms and uplifted legs as George fucked her in the missionary position.

His partner had his face buried in the angle between her neck and her left shoulder, and the top of his head obstructed the woman's view so Ramsay was unseen by either of the lovers.

George Smart was quietly groaning into the deacon's wife's ear in time to his long slow well-measured very deep and obviously incredibly effective cock-thrusts into Marilyn's rhythmically uplifting pelvis. The faithless woman was moaning softly and continuously, so Robert quickly assessed that neither of them had likely heard either the back door or their bedroom door being opened.

The spectacle of the lovers was shocking. Heart-stopping. And infuriating but also breathtakingly erotic.

His partner lifted somewhat so that he was supported on his forearms and third-bent knees, and had his feet thrust firmly against the footboard of the bed. His thighs were well apart, and Ramsay could see the unexpectedly thick shaft of his erection was down-curving, and easily gliding in and out of his wife's shockingly stretched and gleaming-wet vagina.

He was stunned. Totally breathtaken. Suddenly dry-mouthed and dizzy. Partly by the bared grossness of the in-his-face slow-motion fuck of his lawful wife displayed in rear view less than ten feet from his unbelieving eyes. But mostly he was stunned by the size of his partner's thickly veined cock that was skewering his wife with ease.

Deacon Ramsay was entranced by the sight of his partner's cock which was wreathed in snaking wobbling pencil-thick blue veins and, strikingly, completely hairless from the first great bulge of it below his arsehole, right forward to where its ridiculously girthy deep-bellied shaft was sheathing and re-sheathing itself wetly, rhythmically and so perfectly but powerfully in his wife's writhing body.

Each rod and groove and vein of his partner's incredible erection was cruelly detailed before his jealous eyes. He had never seen any part of any man look so gross and menacing. Not even in a blue movie, let alone in action with his wife.

Each knowing inthrust of it in his wife, even each withdrawal from her, caused his partner's cock to glide suggestively within its wet translucent sheath of milk-white skin and slightly over-bulge and subtly flex as if, despite its obvious steely hardness in her, this awesome hardon had a personality and life completely of it's own.

"Yesss... oohhh yesss George... give it to me... give me all of your big cock," the woman panted and before the cuckolded deacon's astonished eyes, each inthrust by his partner, completed by an upward rutting tilting of his pelvis urged powerfully by his supple hips was burying his stupendous cock not balls-deep, but a mere one inch short of arsehole-deep into his wife's cunt.

But worse, each outstroke of his partner's cock out-drew with it a slippery gossamer-thin inch-long sleeve of coral-pink clinging lining of his wife's cunt, as if his wife could not bear to have her lover's shaft withdrawn from her, but had to lap and linger on every inch of it as it was being withdrawn from her beautifully cock-pleasured body.

The display of detail in that spectacle of open-legged fucking by the couple on his bed was so cruelly vivid, so merciless, and so appallingly erotic, he was transfixed.

By now he had half-closed the door. But, from the shadow of hallway, still he watched. Fearing that at any moment one of those interlocked, intently interthrusting lovers would hear the awful banging of his heart within his chest, and notice him.

The harsh breathing, the groaning, the moans, the sighs and whimperings of the lovers, the creakings of the bed, the slap and thud of body upon body, and the wet sounds of widespread woman's lovelips being cleaved by straining ever-thickening cock strangely soon all faded from his hearing.

"Hungh... yunh... hungh," Marilyn grunted and Robert could see her broad hips tilt and heave as she took each long-cocked thrust. The sex-noises were complemented by the slappings of his lovely wife's hands upon her lover's broad, long, undulating back and his rounded, muscular and rhythmically clenching butt-cheeks.

Ramsay felt the fast rushing of his blood, the bursting banging of his heart right up into his neck and throat and his panicky short breathings as with hopeless jealousy he saw his wife so passionately fucking his hugely endowed partner.

The man's relentless in-out thrusting slowed and Robert realized that his traitorous partner was soon going to climax. It was Marilyn's fault, he was sure. She had seduced his partner but thank God for such a friend whom he just knew would considerately withdraw that huge bared cock from her before it began to ejaculate.

He watched as George rammed deep and then was still except for the motions caused by the jerking and circling of the woman's wide open fuck-saddle. The deacon, deep down, knew better but in a futile attempt to retain some dignity he refused to accept the obvious. He didn't want to believe that his partner would possibly do what might impregnate his friend's wife or that the wife concerned would allow the potential impregnation to occur.

But then, the sudden clutching of his wife's hands against his partner's hard-muscled bum cheeks was quickly followed by that fearful rearing of his body up from hers. Now suspended over her beautifully convulsing form, his whole trunk suddenly hanging on his outstretched arms and hands hard-spread upon the sheeted mattress below her armpits, the man connected with her only by his taut now-flattened lower belly, his tensed thigh-fronts and his scrunchy pubic hair.