Wednesday, March 27, 2013

After The Party

AFTER THE PARTY by Throne My wife Annie and I were at a party. It was at the home of my boss and I was very nervous about making a good impression. Mr. Bullard was in his 40s, about twice my age, very serious, and in the two years since he had joined the firm, had raised it from near bankruptcy to spectacular success. I had only been with them for three months and knew that he had the power to fire me, and wouldn't hesitate to use it. Not that I wasn't a good employee, but I've always been kind of meek and hadn't been as aggressive as I might have in handling my accounts. Anyway, I was very anxious and hoped all would go well. One concern I had was that he might not approve of Annie. You see, she's overtly sexual, and loves to show off her stunning figure in revealing outfits. That evening she wore a low cut dress with a high hemline, as well as towering stilettos that made her several inches taller than me. When I introduced her to Mr. Bullard he was friendly but formal. I wasn't sure what to make of that, so I said I had to talk with someone across the room, thinking that she would follow me. Instead, she stayed where she was an began chatting with my boss. I had already committed to being elsewhere, so I reluctantly left, feeling out of control of the situation. I did have to speak with another employee -- that hadn't been a lie -- but it turned into a long conversation. Two other members of the staff got into it and more than a half hour passed before I could get away. When I did, I couldn't find Annie or Mr. Bullard. I became upset and my stomach began to get sour, the way it does whenever something bothers me. So I headed upstairs to use one of the bathrooms, away from the crowd. On the landing, away from the noise downstairs, I heard voices, one male and the other female. There was talking but also excited vocalizations, moaning and grunting. Curious, I moved into the hallway and to the last door, which was slightly ajar. The sounds continued and I thought the man sounded like Mr. Bullard. And the woman like -- Annie? My hand was shaking as I eased the door open a few extra inches and angled myself so I could peek inside. I couldn't see them directly but there, in a large mirror over a dresser, they were plainly visible. My wife was bent forward with her dress hiked all the way up and her panties around her shapely thighs. My boss was standing behind her with his trouser dropped, screwing her from behind. He had his hands on her smooth round hips and was slamming against her bottom over and over with a spirited rhythm. She was thrusting back enthusiasticly. "Don't stop," she moaned. "You are so fantastic, Steve. I can't believe how turned on I am. It's never like this with my weakling husband. Not only is his dick tiny, but he shoots off in less than two minutes. I've never had an orgasm from his runty weiner -- I have to fake them so he won't realize what a failure he is in the sack." She sighed deeply. "I could get used to doing this on a regular basis." "No problem, dear," he assured her. "I'll simply make him work a few nights a week. Better yet, I'll have him come in late, so I won't have to pay him time and a half." He chuckled but didn't slow his pumping. "I'm going to have my cock inside you every chance I get." "That's perfect." Her voice was strained. "Ohhhh, you're getting me soooo close. Don't stop, lover." His answer was to quicken his pace slightly, which started her panting. She squirmed her bottom appreciatively and threw back her head. It was an incredibly erotic sight and, even though I was watching my wife get poled by my boss, I got a raging erection. Transfixed, I watched them until she had a heaving orgasm and then, still totally in control of himself, Mr. Bullard finished long and hard in my wife's pussy. They were both utterly satisfied. When he said they could clean up in the adjoining washroom, I hurried exited. In a daze, I returned to the downstairs and found a bathroom there. They reappeared about ten minutes later, both looking quietly happy. I didn't say anything to Annie. After the way she had badmouthed my sexual equipment and ability, I was devastated. When I became too insecure to try to instigate sex, she made no effort to encourage me. True to his word, my boss put me on a revised schedule, so I was always in the office from noon until eight at night. Several times a week I would return home to find our bed mussed up and the distinct scent of sex lingering in the room. It was obvious what was happening but I became increasingly fearful of saying anything to her. Bringing up the subject to Mr. Bullard was something I lacked the courage to even attempt. It has been six months since their affair started. I am in a constant state of agitation but unable to do anything about it. Because I never get to have sex with Annie I'm constantly horny. For some reason, knowing that she is cheating on me gets me aroused. I can't explain it but now I lie in bed every night next to her desirable body, my underdeveloped dick hard, surreptitiously touching myself and picturing the two of them there, enjoying each other, while I'm at work. I've even started masturbating once a week, in the bathroom at work, just to get some relief. When I do it, thoughts of them together fill my mind. What will happen now? I'm not sure. My wife has made a few comments that hint at what's taking place, almost as if she's tormenting me about my cuckolded status. It seems like she dresses extra sexily at home now, and goes out of her way to tease me with her body. I'm endlessly concerned, my stomach is always distressed, and it feels more and more like she's silently laughing at me. What all this will lead to in the next six months, I can only obsess over and anticipate with mounting dread. 47262 1.58/512345

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