Another Cheating Wife Bundle!: Sexy 3-Story Erotic Collection (4 page)

Chapter Seven

The following, at work, good things happened.

As David settled into his cubicle, his boss called out to him from his nearby office.

“Hey! David! Get in here!”

Slightly nervously, David padded into his boss, Lou’s, office, and was greeted with a big smile by the man.

“Just got an email from I.T.,” he explained. “Brandon down there told me you’d pulled a few strings. I got ESPN and Live Sports white-listed on my firewall.” To demonstrate, Lou clicked his mouse and immediately the sound of a football game came roaring through his speakers. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

David smiled, and before he left heard Lou tell him: “It doesn’t hurt to be the guy that gets shit done for people around here. You’re on the right track.”

Sitting back down at his desk, David smiled. He’d been racked with guilt all weekend, at the thought of letting some stranger snap photos of his naked wife.

But given this little victory, perhaps it had been worth it. In fact, what was the worst that could happen?”

David got the answer to that a little sooner than he’d like.

Double-clicking on his email inbox, the first thing he opened – without even thinking about it – was an email from Brandon.

And when the message appeared onscreen, David suddenly found himself staring at a naked picture of his wife.

His eyes widened. Desperately, David tried to click the ‘x’ button on the top right of the window, and then he stabbed at the minimize icon. Finally, thankfully, the picture shrunk off screen and David glanced around behind him to make sure nobody had seen it. Fortunately, it looked like nobody has spotted the life-sized photo of his wife’s breasts momentarily flashed on onscreen.

Chest heaving, he leaned back in his seat and tried to get his shit together.

Then the phone rang.

It was the ringtone of an internal call, and as David glanced at the screen on his phone, he saw the call was listed as “F. Brown, I.T. Dept”.

David snatched up the phone.

“Brandon?” He hissed, trying to keep his voice low enough so nobody in neighboring cubicles heard it. “What the fuck, Brandon? I thought you said you’d deleted those pictures.”

There was a warm, sinister chuckle from the other end of the phone.

“Hey, relax, buddy,” Brandon’s deep voice demanded. “Just get your ass down to the I.T. department. You and I need to have ourselves a little talk.”

*              *              *

Stomach churning, David rushed downstairs to the basement of the building – where the I.T. department was located (or ‘locked away’ as the sales team described it.)

In amongst the racks of equipment, and banks of flickering lights, David found Brandon’s office next to where the janitor kept his mops. He rapped on the door loudly.

“Come in,” Brandon barked.

David turned the handle and pushed. Boxes of computer parts blocked him from opening it, but he was eventually able to force his way through.

And inside the tiny office, sitting behind a crumbling formica desk, was Brandon.

“Hey, buddy,” the big, black man beamed when he saw David’s face. “Come in. Take a seat, man. We need to talk.”

David didn’t feel in the mood to sit down.

“What the hell, Brandon! You just emailed me a picture of…” his voice lowered, “
my wife
.”

Brandon leaned back in his seat and laughed.

“Actually, buddy,
you
just emailed you a picture of your wife. I was just cc’d in, you dig?”

“W-what?” David’s legs started to feel week.

“Yeah,” Brandon nodded. “Why don’t you shut that door behind you and I’ll explain.”

David nervously clicked shut the door. He threw a couple of empty boxes off the seat opposite Brandon’s desk, and sat down.

Brandon leaned back in his seat and smiled devilishly.

“If you check out the address fields on that email,” he explained. “You’ll see it was
your
account that sent out that picture. To me.” He winked. “Nobody else has seen it.
Yet
.”

“What the fuck, Brandon! Why are you emailing me pictures of my wife? From my account! You promised me you’d delete those pictures!”

Brandon nodded.

“Yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?” He admitted. “And I really meant to, at the time. But when I got home and started rubbing one out, I thought to myself: You can’t delete these. Just look at them. That dude David’s got a hot-ass wife. It would be like deleting a Rembrandt, or something.”

David closed his eyes.
Shit
.

He
knew
he’d come to regret letting Brandon into his house that Friday night. Now photos of his naked wife were in Brandon’s hands – and who knew what the unscrupulous bastard was going to do with them.”

“Here’s what I’m going to do with them,” Brandon decided to answer that question himself. “I’m going to use them to earn myself a feel of those delicious titties of hers.”

David went white.

“W-what?”

“You heard me,” Brandon purred, leaning back in his seat. “When I saw those big ol’ boobs your wife had on display, I thought to myself: I
have
to feel those things for myself. And it wasn’t until this morning, I figured out how to do it.”

David gripped the arm-rests of his chair so hard, his fingernails dug into the plastic.

“As for making that happen – well, that’s down to you, brother.” Brandon narrowed his eyes. “There’s a hard way, and there’s an easy way.”

David said nothing, so Brandon continued:

“So, you’re going to be waiting at your door at nine o’clock tonight, you dig? And I’m gonna come knocking and you’re going to let me in. And then you’re going to watch while I kneel down beside that queen-sized bed of yours and give your wife’s beautiful titties a good ol’ squeeze.”

The bile started rising in David’s gullet. He glanced around the office, looking for something to throw up into.

“Now, if you get it in your head to say ‘no’ to this arrangement,” Brandon explained, “I’m gonna go ahead and print out that email ‘you’ sent me this morning, and take it straight to HR.”

“I’ll tell ‘em you’re one of these perverted white guys who’s got a fetish for getting black dudes to bang their wives, and you’ve been hassling me, sending me naked pictures of your woman, to try and get me to sleep with her.”

Brandon allowed himself a sinister chuckle.

“We’ve got all the ingredients there. Sexual harassment, racial discrimination. Man, I could end up with a nice tidy settlement from that,
and
you’d get your ass fired.”

He then winked menacingly. “And imagine what your wife will say, when she finds out you’ve been sharing pictures of her naked? Brother, I still don’t know how you scored a broad that hot – but she’d be filing divorce papers before you’d even collected your first unemployment check.”

David nearly retched.

“But here’s the alternative scenario,” Brandon’s voice got softer. “The one I hope you’ll be more…
amenable
to. Let’s say you go ahead and let me feel up your sleeping wife. How about then, in return, I make life a little better for you?”

Brandon grabbed one of the monitors and wheeled it around so David could see the screen.

“You know what these are?” He asked.

David narrowed his eyes. Lists and lists of websites, subdivided by usernames – the first initial and last name of his colleagues, upstairs.

“This is the web monitoring screen – I can see what everybody in the company’s doing on their computers from here.” He clicked on the name of David’s boss, Lou. “Check it out. Your boss just logged into Live Sport to catch the Formula One race.”

He then scrolled to another user. “And check out Phil, from your Investor Relations department. He’s logged into eTrade for the third time today. Bet your
boss
would like to know he’s doing some insider trading on company time.”

David’s eyes widened. He never knew the people in the IT department had this kind of power.

“Or what about this? We keep quiet about Phil’s stock deals, in return for taking a few screenshots of them.” Brandon hammered into his keyboard, clicked a mouse button and then, to David’s amazement, a picture captured from Phil’s computer screen appeared.”

“What’s that stock he just bought? $SFIO? Might not be a dumb idea to sink a little money into that yourself.” Brandon winked. “You see my ’85 Corvette out in the parking lot? I bought that on the money I made following these kinds of stock tips.”

Brandon wheeled the computer screen back to face him.

“You’re a smart guy, David. I reckon you could figure out a way to make your life
mighty
convenient if I gave you access to this kind of information.” The big, black man smiled. “And I’m sure you’d agree, it’s a lot better than the alternative.”

Brandon leaned forward and said slowly and menacingly: “You take your pick. Either way, I’ll be ready for you to let me in at nine o’clock tonight.”

Chapter Eight

For the rest of the day, David was in a daze.

He shuffled back from the IT department like a zombie, and then sat in his cubicle staring at a blank screen for what must have been most of the day. In fact, the only human interaction he had was at five o’clock, when Lou – who was still fired up with his new-found access to the sports websites - sauntered past his cubicle and called over the top: “Hey, good work today!”

Ha
, David thought. That’s the first time I’ve been praised for my work in months; and it happened on the one day I genuinely didn’t do
any
work.

At five thirty, David packed his own things into his backpack, and shuffled off to his car in the parking lot. A half hour of stop-start traffic brought his to his driveway, and then he hauled himself up the steps to his front door.

As he unlocked it, he realized he felt like a condemned man.

*              *              *

“Are you okay, honey?”

Cassie looked worried as David unlocked the door; shoulders slumped in resignation.

“I-I’m fine,” he put on a brave front, and kissed his beautiful wife on the cheek. “Just feeling a little under the weather.”

“Aww, poor baby.” She gave him a hug. “Maybe you need an early night. Just as soon as I’ve finished listening to my tapes, alright?”

David grimaced.

Part of his reason for grimacing was the knowledge that, in just a couple of hours, Brandon would turn up on his doorstep. But pretending that wasn’t the case, David also smarted from the way his wife blithely decided that her sick husband could rest and recuperate only
after
she’d listened to her tapes.

And while David loved Cassie, and felt awful about what he was potentially about to have done to her, he still felt a hot flash of anger at her attitude; and it made him feel slightly better about the whole Brandon situation.

They ate dinner with little but small talk between them, and then headed off to the living room to watch TV. At eight o’clock, like clockwork, Cassie kissed David on the cheek and told him: “I’m off to listen to my tapes.”

And then David found himself alone on the couch – staring at the clock above his head.

In sixty minutes, he’d hear a knock at the door – and then who knew what would happen?

David couldn’t help it. He sat there and just stared at the clock, at the minute hand as it slowly tick-tick-tocked its way around the clock face. As a kid, he’d heard somebody tell him that the hands on a clock moved too slowly for the human eye to see – but that didn’t stop it from still slowly turning around over the course of the following hour.

And at nine o’clock exactly, there was a rap at the back door.

David jumped, even though he’d spent the last hour expecting it.

Climbing up off the couch, he hurried to the back door as the knocking continued, and unlocked it to find Brandon there grinning eagerly.

“Hey, buddy,” the big black man beamed. “What took you so long?”

David wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

“Come inside,” he snapped.

“Okay, okay,” Brandon played it cool, as he stepped past David and into the kitchen. “I’m just here to get my end of the bargain. We still cool, brother?”

David glowered at him – giving the unspoken message that they had
never
been cool when it came to this.

But Brandon’s reaction suggested he really didn’t care one way or another. He shrugged off his coat.

“So… We gonna do this, or you want to drink a beer first?”

David’s eyes widened. It was bad enough this big, black bastard wanted to feel up his sleeping wife. Now he wanted to make small talk, too?

“Come on,” David led him into the living room.

At the door to the bedroom, David’s hand hovered over the door handle. Then he froze.

“What is it?”

“Give me your hands,” David snapped.

“You what?”

“Give me your hands!”

“Dude, that’s some gay shit right there.”

“Just let me hold your hands for a second,” David snapped – and when Brandon reluctantly offered up his big hands, David felt them and they were cold.

“You were outside,” the smaller man explained, marvelling at how big and rough and calloused Brandon’s hands were. “They’re like blocks of ice. If you touch her with those, she’ll wake up for sure.”

“Oh,” Brandon seemed to get it. “Alright, no problem.” He began to rub his hands together, and then tucked them under his armpits.

Eventually, when he was convinced they’d be warm enough, Brandon pulled his hands out and presented them to David. The smaller man touched them.

“Okay,” he growled. “Now be quiet, okay?
Really fucking quiet
.”

Brandon nodded eagerly, and watched as David opened the door to the bedroom with a soft ‘click.’

The light from the living room bathed the bedroom; and illuminated Cassie as she lay sleeping on the bed.

David felt his stomach tie itself into knots. His wife looked like a sleeping angel lying there; and he was about to let this beast – this big, black
animal
– lay his hands on her.

But what choice did he have?

“C’mon,” David hissed, and he beckoned Brandon to the side of the bed.

The big man listened, and fell to his knees beside the bed eagerly.

David felt revolted by what he did next – but he also felt exhilarated. Like a boy again, when he and his schoolmates had spied in on the girl’s locker room. It was deeply,
disgustingly
unethical. But it was also kind of hot.

Lifting the covers, David peeled back the comforter to reveal inch after inch of his sleeping wife’s body. Brandon watched, his eyes widening.

“Goddamn,” the big black man breathed. “She’s fucking
beautiful
.”

David felt a stab of pride, and the corner of his lips curled.

“O-okay,” Brandon murmured, and he held up his hands. “C-can I… Can I touch her?”

David looked at him; and for the first time in their weird relationship, he actually felt
power
over the other man. And he suddenly felt his cock swell in his pants.

“G-go on,” David ordered.

And then he watched as Brandon Brown – a heavy-set black man he’d barely spoken to until the previous Friday night – reached trembling fingers out and held them above his wife’s bare, pale breasts.

Brandon looked at David, as if demanding permission. And David nodded.

Brandon’s lips curled.

And then he cupped Cassie’s beautiful breasts, and squeezed.

David’s eyes widened, and his cock throbbed, as he saw Brandon’s big, brown hands squeeze the tender white flesh of his wife’s breasts. The contrast was electric. It looked
so fucking sexy
.

And so was the look in Brandon’s eyes, as he massaged Cassie’s tits. He licked his thick, brown lips, and rubbed his big thumbs over her nipples, until they hardened like little nubs at the pressure.

“Fuuuck, man,” Brandon grinned, looking up at David for approval. “Man, your wife’s titties feel fucking
amazing
.”

David grinned in pride. Yeah, he thought to himself. They
do
.

And then, without his brain giving his mouth permission, David whispered: “If you think her
tits
feel good, you should feel her
pussy
.”

Brandon immediately froze, and his big head turned to David as if to demand he repeat what he’d thought the smaller man had just said.

“Yeah,” David nodded. “Feel her pussy. Go on.”

Brandon’s smile widened obscenely; and then he lifted one hand from Cassie’s breast, and traced a path down the softness of her stomach, to her neatly trimmed ‘v’ of public hair.

One of his big, black fingers slipped between Cassie’s thighs. And then she moaned.

Both Brandon and David froze in horror, snapping their necks to look at her face for any sign of consciousness.

But while Cassie’s breathing had deepened, and her mouth had parted a little, she still appeared to be asleep.

Brandon grinned again, and he moved his hand.

One of his big, thick fingers slid between the lips of Cassie’s pussy, and rubbed up and down until it glistened with moisture.

Then he added another.

Still sleeping, Cassie’s breathe deepened.

Brandon started to scissor his hand up and down between Cassie’s legs, and then his thumb started circling her clitoris. In response, the unconscious wife’s thighs parted, and she shifted her hips a little; as if offering herself to the hand between her legs.

David’s eyes grew wide, as he watched Brandon work.

Moments later, the man’s big fingers slipped
inside
Cassie, and while she remained asleep, it was clear she was almost humping his hand, as he rubbed her clit.

Fuuuck
, thought David. He was being hit with a one-two punch. On one hand, he was burning with jealousy at the thought of another man pleasuring his wife so expertly. And then, on the other, he couldn’t believe how fucking
hot
it looked.

Brandon’s big, thick fingers – so dark and leathery – disappeared in and out of his sleeping wife’s hungry pussy, glistening with lubrication. His big thumb circled her clit expertly. The contrast against her pale white skin was incredible.

David couldn’t help himself. He suddenly started wondering what Brandon’s cock would look like; slipping inside of his wife’s beautiful body.

The sound of Cassie moaning shook him out of his thoughts. She was still sleeping – still unconscious – but she was grinding her hips against Brandon’s hand and it looked like she was about to…

About to…

“Ahhhhhhhhh….”

The sound that emerged from Cassie’s mouth was barely above a murmur; but it was unmistakable. It was a sound David had only heard a few times in his marriage to his beautiful wife.

The sound of her cumming.

And as his sleeping wife orgasmed, David was hit with a sudden wave of shame. This was
his
wife.
He
should be the one making her cum. Instead it was this… this…

And then, to make it worse, there was a flash of light from Brandon’s
other
hand. David looked back and saw that the big black man had whipped out his cell phone for a second time and was
recording
the action.

“Okay,” David snapped. “Enough.” And when Brandon didn’t stop fingering his sleeping wife, the smaller man slapped Brandon on the arm –
hard
.

“Okay, okay,” with a wet-sounding slurp, Brandon pulled his thick fingers from inside Cassie’s pussy. They came away glistening and wet. The big, black man lifted them to his nose and took a deep, lascivious sniff.

“Mmmmm,” Brandon beamed. “Smells
good
.”

“Get out,” David hissed. “Get out, get out,
get out
.” And then he hustled Brandon out of the bedroom and left his naked wife lying uncovered on the bed; her legs splayed and her pussy glistening.

Back in the living room, David pushed shut the bedroom door with a ‘click’ and then turned to Brandon.

“Give me that phone,” he demanded.

“You what?” Brandon looked innocently at the cell phone in his hand. “This lil’ thing? I was just taking a few snaps.” He then turned to David and his lips narrowed. “Y’ain’t getting it, you hear?”

“Well,” David flustered, “Delete them, you promise?” And then his anxiety got the better of him. “You’ve got to leave,” he snapped.

Brandon peered at him, and again lifted his glistening fingers to his nose and sniffed them. And then, to add insult to injury, he
licked
them.

“Mmmmmmm,” Brandon beamed. “Tastes
good
.”  

“C’mon,” David snapped. “A deal’s a deal. You got what you came for.”

“That I did, brother,” Brandon beamed. “And
more
.”

“So you gotta leave,” David insisted. “Go on. There’s the door.”

“Okay, okay,” Brandon nodded, scrambling for his coat. “Are we cool, brother?”

David didn’t know how to answer that, so he just mumbled: “Yeah.” And the next thing he knew, he was hustling Brandon out of the back door and slamming it shut behind him.

The last thing he heard was Brandon calling through the door: “See you tomorrow.”

And then David slumped against the kitchen counter, chest heaving.

His head swam. What the
fuck
had just happened? What had he just watched? What had he just
done
?