0 comments/ 160090 views/ 8 favorites The Rich Man's Wife By: MacQ Victor Sonjes had the look of a corporate chief executive, or perhaps, even a Wall Street banker. He was neither, but he was a powerbroker in his own right. He was a ruggedly handsome man of fifty-three, very tall, and leanly built, with neatly cropped sandy hair and steely gray eyes that could see little beyond his gold. He was charismatic, bright and shrewd, and outwardly magnanimous when the situation called for it. There was also cruelty in him. Deeply-rooted, and it reared its head most often with those closest to him, and those he held profound contempt for. He leaned awkwardly against the edge of the big sturdy desk in the dim light of his vast study. He used one hand to steady himself. The other rested at the back of the head of an average-looking, but heavily buxom, young blond, who knelt topless between his parted legs. He used the hand to rock the woman’s stuffed mouth up and down his spike-hard cock. There was the glint of smugness and satisfaction on his face as he stared down at the woman who struggled to keep up with the pace set by his pushing hand. She pounded anxiously at his scrawny thighs with small fists, but her anxiety went ignored. The tears of deep humiliation fell silently from her eyes. Sonjes threw his head back suddenly. His mouth fell open, and he panted erratically several times as his orgasm built steadily. He finally clenched his perfect white teeth, and grunted deeply from his tautly, muscled stomach, as his warm oily seed spurted like pulsing globs of lava from the head of his jerking cock. He pushed his hips violently two times, thrusting the fleshy lance deeper into the young woman’s helpless mouth. The woman stopped her fight, and concentrated solely on swallowing the sticky fluid as fast as she could. Sonjes forced her head down farther, maliciously, causing her to lose her rhythm. She gagged violently, spitting the seed from mouth and nose. It ran from the corner of her mouth, and down her chin, dripping onto the polished wood floor between her spread knees. The wealthy man relaxed his grip, letting the blond fall away from his spent crotch. He began to chuckle as he tucked his cock away and zipped his pants. It rose softly from his chest to a deep and taunting kind of laughter that filled the enormous room. The woman just hovered on her hands and knees, unable to speak or catch her breath, as she tried to cough the remaining clots of the thick liquid from her throat. He caught a suddenly glimpse of movement in the study doorway, and his eyes rolled casually in that direction. His pretty wife stood staring at him. She did not utter a word. There was no surprise or hurt in her eyes, only the blank stare of disillusionment. Morgan Sonjes was tall, and elegantly attractive. She was forty-four. Her build was slender. She had luxuriously thick auburn hair that was cropped neatly around her face. There was nothing particularly exceptional about her face, but crystal clear sea-green-colored eyes, a perfectly straight nose, delicate cheekbones and soft thin lips worked together to create a picture of beauty and grace. Sonjes gave his stunned wife an impish little grin, and then watched as she turned slowly and walked away. When she disappeared from his view, he looked down at the young blond again. His grin faded quickly, and the unmistakable glare of distain rose to replace it in his narrow gray eyes. “Get your clothes on, and get the fuck out of here,” he spat pitilessly at the young blond, almost under his breath. ~~ “Mr. Sonjes won’t like this, ma’am,” the raspy, concerned voice echoed in her head. “This is going to make him crazy.” Morgan Sonjes smiled ironically through the steady stream of tears that poured from her big green eyes. She dabbed at the tears with a handkerchief, and then wiped carelessly at her nose. She nodded slightly in recognition, certain that she was being watched from the front seat of the limousine, but the words meant nothing to her. “…He’ll spare no expense to find you,” the driver continued to reason. “You know that better than anyone.” She looked down at the angry circular mass of skin on the back of an otherwise delicate and pretty hand. She rubbed at the mark carefully with her thumb, surprised that she felt no pain. ~~ “When does my opinion matter then, Victor?” the attractive woman questioned angrily as she sat next to her husband in the back seat of their limousine. “I’m your wife.” Victor Sonjes flicked the ashy tip of his big cigar into the ashtray in the car door, and then he looked over at his wife. The ire in his narrow eyes told her that he was near to exploding, but that didn’t matter to her. This was a fight she would see through to its outcome. “Tell me, Victor,” she prodded. “Nothing you do or say matters, Morgan,” he said in a measured tone. “You’re along for the ride. Do you understand? Keep your mouth shut, and enjoy it.” “You cold bastard,” she said in disbelief. “I won’t live like this.” The man’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits, and his anger raged forth. He reached for her with the quickness of a striking snake. His fingers gripped her wrist, their tips dug deeply into the flesh. The woman winced and tried to pull free. Her husband dug his fingertips in even deeper, forcing his wife cease her defiant struggle. Sonjes tugs roughly at the wrist, pulling until her face was a mere inch from his. She could feel his heated breath on her. “You’ll live any way I decide, Morgan,” he said angrily. “You belong to me.” When the pretty woman shook her head in adamant defiance, the man slammed her palm down on his thigh, and held on firmly. He pressed the tip of the burning cigar into the back of her hand without warning, and she screamed out in agonizing pain. He released her wrist, and calmly took another puff on the cigar. The pretty woman said nothing more. She almost cowered on the seat next to him. She cradled her wounded hand close to her breast, and she began to sob in silence. “You and I will not have this discussion again,” he said calmly. “Try to remember.” ~~ The burn had healed, but her husband had intended it to be a constant reminder to her. He had succeeded. She knew then that she should have walked away from him, but she had lacked the strength and courage. Now, she just felt foolish, and deeply disappointed that she had let herself be used for so long. “… …Mrs. Sonjes…,” the voice called again a few moments later. “Then, he’ll find me, Bobby,” she replied resolutely. “…But, it won’t be today, and it won’t be tomorrow…, maybe it won’t even be next week. I can’t do this anymore. It has to stop.” “…Yes, ma’am,” the voice replied in solemn surrender. The pretty woman went back to staring out of the car window. None of the scenery looked familiar to her. Her life had felt much the same way for a very long time. She had to put an end to her pain, or else the good that had once lived inside her, her hopes, her creativity, her beliefs, would die forever. “Stop the car!” She shouted suddenly. “Bobby!!” When the car stopped, she gathered her purse and coat quickly, and looked at the dark glass that served as a partition between the two seats. “I can make it from here,” she smiled. “Ah, think about what you’re doing, honey,” the voice reasoned desperately. “What are you gonna do out here alone?” “I have thought about it,” the attractive woman replied quickly. “Right now, the freedom to make my own choices again means everything.” “…I wouldn’t have told, Mrs. Sonjes,” the voice said. “I swear it.” “I know,” she said, with a soft tone of fondness in her voice. “Goodbye, Bobby.” ~~ Morgan Sonjes awakened with a start, and sat up rigidly in her bed, panicked eyes darting nervously. Sweat soaked her night clothes, and her breathing was frantic. She calmed as she began to recognize the new surroundings of her loft apartment. She edged to the side of her big bed, swung her shapely legs over, and sat a few moments to collect her thoughts. She had run only as far as the city. She hoped that it would be the last place that her husband thought to look. She leased a roomy loft apartment in a redevelopment project underway in the old business district downtown. The area had been reclaimed from the bums and street people who had inhabited it, and after extensive renovation it had become a new haven for young yuppie types and business executives who worked nearby. Morgan Sonjes had fallen in love with the apartment the moment she set foot in it. In addition to its layout and size, it had three enormous bay windows that stretched across the entire front side of the apartment. They rose nearly to the ceiling, and they captured the morning sunlight perfectly. She had decorated the apartment carefully to her own taste. It was sparingly furnished with a comfortable couch, matching easy chairs and coffee table. In the dining room, there was a modern glass and chrome dinner table with two chairs. There were photographs, and lush clinging green plants everywhere. She had even set up an area that she used as a dark room. She finally felt steady enough to rise to her feet. She stretched slowly as the short blue nightie fell down and settled around her sleek bare thighs, and then she headed downstairs to tinker in her dark room. She often worked in the dead of night when her fears were greatest, and she couldn’t sleep because of them. Sometimes, she even thought that she was more creative during those times. Whatever the case was, her photography always calmed her. Great shards of the moonlit night flooded in through the bay windows, causing a dim, but luminous shadow that lit her way. The pretty woman walked the path through the loft from memory though, stopping at the refrigerator for a big bottle of spring water. She closed the refrigerator door, enfolding herself in darkness again. She twisted the cap from the bottle, and took a long sip. She seemed to think for a moment, and then she walked back across the room to her camera case. She took three rolls of film from the case, and walked toward the dark room that she had set up just off the kitchen. On the way, she spotted something that piqued her interest. She took a slight detour, stopping before one of the great windows. She stared out at a dimly lit room in the hotel just across the street from her apartment. The young couple there, newly-weds she guessed, were in the midst of a wildly passionate lovemaking session. The young man’s body was hard and rippled with muscles that strained to capacity in passion. The woman’s body was slight, finely toned, and insatiable. She rode the long hard body of her lover like it was a great and powerful stead on a long and hard gallop. Her fingers dug into the tight flesh of his broad shoulders. Her big eyes stared without seeing. Suddenly, her slight naked body tensed, and her head fell forward. She hung on the brink of sexual fulfillment for a long excruciating moment, and then, she began a final urgent ride, rhythmically hunching of her hips. Her mouth fell open, as if she intended to scream. She lurched forward violently, and bared tightly clenched teeth. Morgan Sonjes had never watched sex before. The faint voice of her conscious told her to walk away, to leave such matters to privacy. Her body reacted on its own, independently and instinctively, remembering the intensity of sexual passion. It tingled incessantly, and flashes of heat radiated. She recognized the little groan, and the soft jagged burst of breathing that came behind it, as her own. Suddenly, she reached desperately for the edge of the window sill, as her body began to tremble without warning. Seconds later, she leaned into it hard as a savage orgasm erupted within, and rumbled through her body. It was like a battering ram, bursting through the gates that held her sexual desires at bay. The pretty woman climbed weakly up next to the window, raised her feet onto the sill, and tucked her knees beneath her short flimsy nightie. She turned her eyes back to the hotel room and watched intently without blinking. She could not turn her eyes away, nor could she stop the little orgasmic tremors that quaked through her body at will. The young woman in the hotel room sprang hurriedly from the rigid staff that had been buried inside her. It glistened with her cum and feminine lubricant. The young man flinched and stiffened. His cock jerked wildly, and the first thick stream of semen bounded into the air, and landed on his quivering stomach. “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Morgan Sonjes moaned softly. The young woman bent quickly beside her lover, and engulfed the spitting head of his cock. Her head bobbed slowly as she sucked and swallowed the pouring cum. She enclosed the jerking staff in her fist, and pumped it in the same rhythm as her head bobbed. “Oooooooooooooooooo, g-g-god!” Morgan Sonjes groaned out, and panted her way roughly through yet another orgasm. When the final orgasmic wave ebbed away to calm, she slumped heavily in the window bay, physically spent, and unable to move a single muscle. Within minutes, she was fast asleep. ***** Morgan Sonjes aroused to the chill of the morning air, and a distant roar in her ears that was constant. She soon realized that the annoying roar was the sound of rush-hour traffic on the busy street below. On the heels of that, she realized that she was still on the window sill. She sat up, turned slightly, and looked out the big window. The curtains of the hotel room had been drawn closed. She felt immediate embarrassment at her shameful behavior, and she silently hoped that she had not been noticed. As she was about to climb down from the sill, she saw him. The tall, strikingly handsome black man stared down from a window in the hotel, three floors above and two rooms to the right of the one she had spied upon. He did not move or turn away when it became clear that she had noticed him. That was instantly unnerving to her. She raised her arms slowly, and crossed them over the skimpy nightie at her breasts, instinctively covering herself. Fear crept into her, and suddenly, she was unable to move or even breathe. The black man just smiled at her. It came easily to him, and it was attractive. He saluted playfully, and stepped away from the window. The tension in her faded away stubbornly, and she stared up at the empty hotel window until it did. ***** When the woman returned from a short outing three days later, there was a large manila envelope on her doorstep. There was no address of any kind on it, and she could only ponder the conclusion of her short-lived freedom as she stared down at it for a long moment. Finally, she scooped it up, and let herself into the apartment, latching the four door locks when she was safe inside. She moved to the couch, opened the envelope hastily, and pulled the contents from it. She had not expected photographs, but that’s exactly what they were. A grim sense of panic overtook her as she rifled through the prints hurriedly. There were seven 8x10 black & whites in total. All of them of her, and all had been shot from the same high vantage point through one of the big windows of her loft. She knew immediately, from the angle, who had taken them, and her ire surged instantly. She felt violated. There was a neatly printed note taped to the last photograph. It read: Who is this woman, really? I would love to know. A secret admirer The pretty woman walked angrily to one of the big windows, and fiery eyes searched out the room. It was encased in shadow, but the glaring sunlight streaming into the loft made it impossible for her to tell if the black man was there watching. She walked away from the window, and looked through the prints once more, slower this time. There was nothing explicitly sexual, or even offensive about them. They were a retrospective on her moods spanning the emotions of elation, sadness, humor, somberness, and longing. She read the note again, and after more thought, she found an admiring little smile for them. Perhaps the photos were meant to be just what they were, she thought. If so, then she was fairly certain that she had little to fear from her…admirer. She appreciated the creativity, and the work that had gone into what must have been a very difficult photo shoot. ***** The woman viewed the photos again after dinner as she sat on the couch with a glass of wine. Curiosity had taken the place of the fear and apprehension she had felt earlier in the day, and it was curiosity that drew her to the big window once more. Inquisitive eyes searched out the room, but it was dark. She sighed softly, recognizing it as one of disappointment. The window lit up brightly as she was about to turn, and there he sat, in a comfortable high-back chair. She wondered, instantly, how long he might have been there, watching her the way he was watching her now. Her eyes fell to the prints in her delicate hand nervously, and she made a hasty decision in that brief moment, one that she hoped she would not live to regret. She walked hurriedly back to the couch, and took the pen from the coffee table. She flipped one of the photos, and wrote quickly as she stepped back to the window. She held the white back of the 8x10 to the window and waited. The black man leaned slightly to one side, and picked up his camera. He lifted it and pointed at her. After a moment, he lowered the camera, and smiled at her. He put the camera on the table beside him, and picked up the phone. He dialed the number from memory. Morgan Sonjes still jumped slightly when the telephone rang behind her. She looked back at it, stared up at him, and then, went to answer it. “Are you stalking me?” Morgan Sonjes asked quietly. “No, nothing like that,” he answered politely. “The option of saying ‘no’ is always yours.” “It is…?” She questioned slowly. “Then…, you consider yourself a gentleman?” “Well, I’m not so sure I’d go that far,“ the man replied with a soft chuckle. “But….” “But…?” She asked. “… …You do intrigue me,” he said plainly. The tall woman walked back to the window listening closely. She hoisted herself onto the sill, and pulled her feet up. She felt a strange sense of kinship with the amiable voice on the other end of the line. Perhaps it the deep longing for intimacy, but she liked what he had said to this point, and she liked the way he sounded. The smooth deep voice, and its easy tone, did it for her. She leaned back, and rested her eyes on him. “So, what is it you want to know?” She asked, mildly curious. “How about starting with your name,” he replied pleasantly. “It’s…Morgan…, Morgan Sonjes,” she said slowly. “Mine is Travis Anders,” he said, his smile coming through even over the phone line. “Mmmmmmm,” she replied, insinuating that perhaps she liked the name. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night…,” the black man said calmly. “Look, Mr. Anders…,” she began. “Travis,” he corrected quickly. “I’m…married,” she continued. “Is that a ‘no’?” he asked, keeping the pleasant tone in his voice. “No, but…, it’s complicated, and difficult to explain,” the woman replied carefully. “Look, I find you extremely attractive, and I’d like to get to know you better,” the black man said calmly. “Let’s have one dinner together, and you can decide from there.” “Why me?” she asked softly. “… …Maybe I’ve never seen a woman so in need of a friend,” he said clearly. “…I’ll pick you up at 7:30.” “… …Okay,” she said, trying to lift the tone of her voice. “Good night, Morgan,” Travis Anders said. The line went dead, and her eyes rose to the window. The tall rangy man rose from his chair, and disappeared into the room after a final smile and wave at her. ***** Her night was a restless one, filled again with dreams of her husband’s cruelty. She awakened in panic twice. The second time, she got up, and went down to the lower level of the loft. The big window drew her like a magnet. The lamp still burned in his hotel room, but he was nowhere to be seen. She eyed the clock. It was almost 4 a.m. She stayed at the window until her anxiety passed, and then she went back up to bed. There was one final dream...one of the handsome black stranger, somewhere in the black abyss…making sweet slow love to her. The Rich Man's Wife His thick black pole was hot inside her. It was unyielding, like a piece of newly forged steel. His deep and constant thrusting was prodding her along to heights she had never known before. She opened her mouth to scream as her orgasm crested, but he rammed her so deeply, that it took her breath away. She wrapped long arms and legs around him, and clung to him for dear life. “Ohhhh…hhhhh…hhhh, sweetttt…ttttt…Je…sus,” she screamed out, in the exact rhythm that he pounded away at her. ***** “You know, you’re good enough to be a professional photographer,” she said, watching him closely. “Well, I probably wouldn’t enjoy it as much if it were my profession” he replied with a pleasant smile in place on his lips. “So, what do you do for a living?” she asked, probing a bit more. “I’m a mediator for the UAW,” the black man replied. “Then, you have a law degree?” she asked. “Yes, but I’ve never practiced,” he explained. “I went to work for the UAW almost right out of college.” “I see,” she nodded. “And, what brings you to the city?” “Meetings,” the black man smiled, shaking his head slightly. “What?” she said, with a knowing little smile. “You said anything I wanted to ask until I felt comfortable.” “Yes, I remember,” Anders smiled, nodding slightly. Morgan Sonjes already felt totally at ease with the black man. It was her little secret. Travis Anders was even more exceptional in the flesh. She now knew that he was good-natured, reserved, or maybe even a bit shy. He was an attractive man. She guessed that he was probably forty-six or so. His head was cleanly shaven. His brow was lightly lined, and his riveting dark brown eyes drew you in instantly. They were vast pools of experience that came only with years of living. He was a tall, lean man, his body tight and muscular. That was evident even though he was fully dressed in turtleneck and sports coat. Anders had selected a quaint little restaurant in an out-of-the-way area on the city’s wharf. Morgan Sonjes hadn’t thought much of it when she looked it over from the outside, but she had to admit to herself that Travis Anders was a man of impeccable taste. The meal and the ambiance had been superb for their first meeting. Now, they enjoyed light, probing conversation over brandy. “How long will you be here?” She asked. “A few more days,” he replied quietly. “But, my meetings conclude tomorrow.” “And, then, a little ‘R & R’?” she grinned. “Much needed,” Anders nodded. “…Tell me about the woman you see in your photographs,” she said. She watched him staring intently, studying her quietly, and she found it appealing, sexy. Her long delicate fingers reached for the brandy glass. She sat back in her chair to conceal her anxiousness, and ran a single finger around the rim of the glass. “…She’s curious, eager to experience the world that exists beyond her own,” he began, taking his own glass of brandy in hand. “She’s sexy without meaning to be, or really even knowing it, actually. She’s classy and reserved by nature, a little frightened by uncertainty, but she’s not afraid of being alone. She’s compassionate, and she’s very funny when she wants to be. She’s also extremely talented. That’s not something she easily recognizes or even believes, but she should.” “…Mmmmmm, I like her,” the woman smiled shyly, a bit uncomfortable with such scrutiny. “She sounds exceptional.” “I think that she is,” Anders replied, with a slow nod, and a faint smile. “Why would that type of woman ever be in need of a friend?” she asked, with a slight and uncomfortable little smile. “Perhaps she’ll tell me, when the timing is right,” Anders smiled, and took a sip of his brandy. She was very grateful that he did not pry or force conversation on the matter. He was more of a gentleman than he knew, she thought, and she appreciated it. The pretty woman gave a nod that was meant to show her approval and answer his question, and then, she took a sip of her brandy. ***** Anders walked Morgan Sonjes to the safely of her doorstep from the taxi when they returned to the loft. She turned back when she reached the door, and was a bit surprised to find the attractive black man right on her heels. He smiled as he leaned forward slightly, and kissed her lightly on the forehead. As he did, he pushed a small piece of paper into her hand, and stepped back a few paces. “My phone number,” he said with a genuine smile. “Just in case, okay?” Morgan Sonjes nodded, tucked the piece of paper into her palm, and studied his handsome face. “I had a very nice time,” she said. “Thank you.” There was a long moment of silence between them. It was the very first awkward moment of the evening, and she found herself lifting a silent little prayer that they would survive it. “Good night, Morgan,” he finally said, tucking his hands into his pant pockets. The handsome black man turned, and walked toward the hotel. The woman watched him cross the street, and walk to the heavy revolving door at the hotel entrance. He wasn’t what she’d expected. Travis Anders was also gentle and kind, insightful and refined. She was fascinated with him, even more curious, and greatly anticipated their next meeting. ***** She busied herself with menial tasks for more than an hour, trying to chase the thoughts of the black man from her head. Before she was aware of it though, she had the telephone and the folded piece of paper in hand. She dialed the number slowly. “Hello,” his calm voice said on the other end of the line. Her heart pounded in her chest so loud that she could hear it in her ears. She said nothing as she walked to the window, and looked up. He was there staring down at her. “…Hi,” he said pleasantly. “Is everything okay?” “… …Can I come over?” she asked softly. “I don’t think… …I’m not…ready for this evening to be over.” “…All right,” came his reply after a long moment that offered her a chance to reconsider. She put the phone down, and stared up at him. A flash of searing heat coursed through her body, and right behind it, a slight chill that made her tingle. She knew exactly what she wanted, and she felt no shame for it. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that she was married or wealthy. It didn’t matter that she was frightened and on the run. It didn’t even matter that he was little more than a complete stranger. The future was of no consequence to her. All that mattered was the moment, and the familiar heat that was beginning to radiate inside her body. ***** Anders answered the door twenty minutes later, and smiled at the pretty woman, who stood at his door in a long dark overcoat that revealed only dainty ankles, and the shiny black heels that she had changed into. She had run a reckless comb through her luxurious hair, pushing it back away from her pretty face. It made her look sexy, even though she seemed a little nervous and tentative. The black man stepped aside, and gestured graciously, beckoning her into the room. As she passed close to him, static electricity cracked softly. She jumped slightly, and gave him a startled look. “Think that means there’s chemistry at work between us?” he chuckled. “Maybe,” she replied coyly, finding a little smile for him. The handsome black man reached gently for her hand, clasped his fingers in hers, and pulled her to him. In seconds, they were locked in a feverishly passionate kiss. Their bodies strained against each other. Arms clung tightly. Hands caressed eagerly. The woman groaned softly as the tall man edged back into the wall, and forced a leg between hers. She tore her lips from his. “Here?” she gasped excitedly. “Yes,” Anders said softly. “Here.” He turned her effortlessly, and she stared at her reflection in the mirrored closet door. It was a breathtaking view, and she stared, studying every nuance. He was more than a head taller than she, and a picture of strength -- broad, powerful shoulders, muscular arms, and big hands, capable of a soft gentle caress. They unbuttoned the overcoat slowly. Her dark eyes darted between the focused brown eyes that watched her in the mirror, and the black hands that deftly undressed her. When the last button was undone, the hands slid the coat from her shoulders, and let it fall to the floor. She gazed upon her nearly perfect form in the mirror clad in only sheer black panties, charcoal-colored thigh highs, and shiny black pumps. The perfect orbs of her breasts stood proudly, even though she had reached the age of forty. It was the tiny pink buttons at their tips that fascinated her though. They stretched hard and long in excitement under black hands that caressed them, and teased. Her eyes darted down to her own hands that clenched at the material of his dark trousers. They saw her long sleek legs part a bit, allowing his leg to slip between them. Her hips rode forward and back slowly, riding her plump womanly mound along the firmness. Her mouth fell open, and she breathed deeply. “What do you see, Morgan?” he whispered softly, his warm sweet breath spurring her passion. “I see….,” she gasped. “I see… … …oh, god…, beauty.” The hands slid down in tandem over the flat firmness of her belly, making her quiver gently. She noticed the contrast, his black hands on her white skin, and she groaned softly. The hands slid farther, his fingertips dipping just beneath the band of her black panties. She rode her hips upward, trying to force the hands farther beneath the flimsy material. When they plunged deeper, she gasped, held her breath, and let her head fall back against his broad chest. Her eyes fluttered and focused on the probing fingers. “Tell me what you feel…,” he said, and nibbled at her earlobe. “…H-h-h-hot,” she breathed excitedly. “What else?” He questioned. “Wet,” she moaned, her passion rising. “I’m so wetttttt.” She dropped her hands to her mound, and pressed them against his. Her body trembled under the teasing fingers that flicked at her erect little clit. Her body began writhing. Her hips rocked up and back, riding the finger that had sliced so deeply into her eager pussy. “Ohhhhhhhhhh, god,” she gasped, and wiggled tighter against him. Her orgasmic wave began to mount. She pressed herself tighter to the exploring hand inside her panties, intent on riding it until she exploded around it, but suddenly, it was pulled from her, and she groaned in mild frustration. She turned abruptly, and quickly began undressing him. Anders assisted, removing his shirt while the woman anxiously undid his pants, and let them drop to the floor at his ankle. He pushed his briefs carelessly down his muscular thighs. Her delicate hand gripped his massive shaft, and she fell against him, hiding her face in his bare chest. A soft groan escaped her as her fingers stroked up and down the length of it. “Ohhhhhhhhhhh,” she whispered. The black stalk grew and fattened with each push, and she had never felt anything so magnificent. It radiated with its own heat, and became steely in her palm. She loved the feel of the fat blunt head. It was smooth, spear-like, and slick with his sticky precum. The smell of him filled her nostrils. It made her a little lightheaded. “It’s big, so big,” she whispered. The powerful black man swept the pretty woman up and turned her to the wall. He dropped to his knees before her, tore the panties from her, and pressed his face to her crotch. She draped a leg over his hulking shoulder, and collapsed into the wall. Her mouth fell open, and her body shuddered. “Ohhhhhh…myyyyyyy…g-g-g-godddddddd,” she studdered. Morgan Sonjes cupped the man’s head, and inched herself tighter to his flicking, probing tongue. She stared at the reflection in the mirror with far away eyes. She had never been taken in such a manner, and the sight made her quiver. She hoisted her other leg onto the black man’s shoulder, and hunched her way to a climactic explosion. “Travissssssssssss!” she screamed suddenly. “Ohhhh, cumminggggggg!! I’m cummmmmming sooooooo goooooooood!” Her body bucked wildly. Her hands clenched at him. Her heels dug at his back, and her legs squeezed at the sides of his head. Seconds later, she exploded onto his face again. Ohhhhhhhhhhh, againnnnnnn,”she moaned, and gasped roughly through the blissful wave that rocked her body. “I need you…inside me…. Pleaseeeee.” The black man rose, spun the woman to the wall, and guided his long thick staff into her from behind. She gasped, holding her breath as he pushed himself deeper steadily. She had never felt anything so massive. It split her open like a wedge in a stubborn piece of fire kindling, and Anders hammered his wedge deeper with each tantalizing thrust of his muscular hips. Her fingernails clawed at the wall beneath her hands. She dropped her head, trying to relax, trying to breathe her way through the beautiful pain she experienced. “Aaaaggggghhhhhh,” she groaned. “Yesssssssss,” she moaned. “Oooooooooh, yesssssssss…. Fuck me.” Travis Anders obliged her, pumping his hips harder to sink his big black cock deeper into her. His thrusts quickened, becoming a deep battering that jolted her slight body, and drove her mad with intense passion. She began to push back against him, matching his vigor. “Ohhhhhhhhh…, Travisssss,” she groaned hoarsely, reaching back, and pulling at his waist frantically. The black man rammed her hard, and the woman coated his big black stalk lavishly with her cum. Her hands slammed against the wall, and her hips began to sway ever so slowly, sending the big blunt head of his cock careening into the sensitive walls of her weeping pussy. Her body trembled uncontrollably. Their bodies rolled again, and Anders leaned into the wall. He lifted the woman from her feet, slipped his forearms under her knees, and spread her sleek legs wide. Morgan Sonjes stared into the mirror, and gasped at the sight of black cock hammering into her. It looked far too big for the tiny hole, but it sliced steadily like the bobbing needle of a sewing machine. She pulled her knees toward her chest, and screwed herself down farther on the black spike. Her fingers reached for the big black ball sack that hung heavily between his legs. She cupped them gently, and squeezed. Anders blasted into her womb without warning, creaming it, and warming her belly. The thick cream spurted from her in a sudden gush, and it sent her into another violent orgasmic tremble. “You’re driving me stark raving mad,” she chuckled weakly, smiling contentedly at him in the mirror. ***** She watched Anders leave the hotel from one of the window bays in her loft, the following morning. She thought that he looked sexy in the crisp beige suit he wore, and even that fueled her passion for him. She pulled her robe tighter around her, and let her thoughts drift as she watched the car weave through the steady flowing stream of cars, buses and trucks. Finally, it disappeared in the heavy sea of morning traffic. She pulled the blinds to dim the flow of the harsh morning sunlight, closed her eyes, and the scenes of their sex together played back in her head like a vivid movie. When the telephone rang, she eyed the receiver at her feet, and pondered answering it. She reached for it grudgingly on the fourth ring. “Hello,” she said, in a slightly edgy tone. “Did I wake you?” “I haven’t been to sleep,” she said, smiling at the sound of his voice. “Not at all?” “You’re deep inside my head this morning, Anders,” she replied softly with her own little chuckle. “And, I’m hoping that’s a good thing.” I believe so,” she smiled. “Excellent. Listen, are you feeling comfortable enough with me to take a drive down to Monterey tomorrow? I thought I’d rent a car. We could drive down, do a little shopping, see the sights, and maybe stay overnight.” It’s a date,” she grinned softly, nodded without hesitation. “You want to think about it for a bit?” “I could, if you like,” she said. “But, the answer would still be ‘yes’.” “What about tonight?” “I’m cook for you,” she said. “Wouldn’t you rather get out?” “No…, I want to be alone with you,” she said shyly. “All right…. Can you cook, Morgan?” “I haven’t had a great deal of practice over the last few years, but I think I remember how,” she said playfully. “Hmmmmmm, I can’t wait.” “I’ll make it special, just in case,” the pretty woman giggled lightly. “Everything about you is special, Morgan Sonjes. See you tonight.” “See you tonight,” she repeated with a broad grin, and hung up. She pulled her legs up, wrapped her arms around her knees with a faint smile, and let her thoughts of Travis Anders carry her wherever they would. ***** Jazz music played softly in the apartment as Anders and Morgan Sonjes ate dinner in silence. The handsome black man’s eyes stayed fixed on the woman as he ate slowly. She sat at the other end of the table smiling at him in a silky belt-less robe, and nothing more. Anders studied the gentle curve of her breasts, the smoothness of her flat belly, and through the glass top of the table, the deep recesses between her parted thighs. He could only shake his head and smile. “Is it all right?” she asked seriously. “Oh, it’s just fine,” Anders replied. “I guess that I must be a little full.” “No room for dessert?” she asked. “There’s always room for dessert,” Anders winked quickly. The woman stared at him for a few moments, and her lighthearted and playful smile faded to one of wanton desire. She rose quickly, and walked to the other side of the table. Anders pushed his chair back slightly, and watched as she swung her leg over gracefully, and sat down on his thighs. She enfolded him in her arms and kissed him passionately. “I want you,” she breathed anxiously before kissing him feverishly. “I thought about you all day.” She unfastened his pants quickly, and pushed them and his shorts down as he raised his hips effortlessly from the chair. She took his flaccid cock in her hand, and shuddered slightly as she stroked it softly. She fell forward, dropping her head on his shoulder. She stroked the hardening black spike gently as Anders slipped his hand beneath her, and teased her heated labia gently. She shivered under his touch. Suddenly, she raised herself, forced the head of the black cock inside her, and sat down on it gingerly. “Ohhhhhhhhhh, you fill me so completely,” she groaned. Morgan Sonjes cupped his face in her hands and stared into his deep dark eyes as she rode herself up and down his slick, rigid shaft. “God, the way you look at me,” she whispered. “Ooooooooo, I’m gonna cum… … …nowwwwwwww.” She laced her fingers behind his neck tightly, and rocked herself frantically as her orgasm crested and crashed like a powerful tide. She sat down hard on the thick rod, feeling it slip into her belly. She clutched her stomach, and exploded again. “Ohhhhhhh, my god,” she moaned. Anders could feel her cream around his hard black lance. He felt her muscle clench tightly, milking him. He gripped her hips, and rose to his feet. He laid her on the table after pushing the dishes aside. He pushed his arms under her knees, and screwed himself into her deeply. He pumped his hips powerfully, and coaxed a deep groan from the woman, who lay on her back, staring at him. “God, Travis, take me,” she breathed. “Fuck me!” The black man began thrusting deep and hard and constant. His powerful strokes split her tight little pussy open wider and wider, and she wanted more of it, all of it. The black man slammed deeply, and she screamed out in pain. That pain was quickly erased by his hard slow grinding against her erect little clit. “Travissssssss, I’m cumming!” She screamed. Anders grunted deeply, and sprayed his seed into her waiting body in thick jets that warmed her inside incredibly. She lurched up from the table top, wrapped her arms around him, and clung for dear life. She kissed him deeply, tore her lips away, and stared. The Rich Man's Wife “Take me to bed,” she said. ***** The pretty woman sat up in the bed with a sudden start. Her breathing was frantic, and her eyes blinked desperately. She jumped slightly, when she felt the comforting black hand on her shoulder. When she realized where she was, she turned, and cradled herself against his broad, naked chest. As the woman covered her mouth to conceal her sudden soft sobs, Anders noticed the angry mark on the back of her hand. He took her hand in his, and studied the mark. She pulled it away gently, and hid it from his view. “What kind of man does something like that to his wife, Morgan,” he asked softly, but firmly. “It was my own fault,” she replied beneath her tears. “I forgot that my life has value.” She raised her head, and stared up at him with weeping eyes. Anders stroked her head with a gentle hand, and waited for her to continue. “Victor was the most dynamic person that I had ever met,” she began. “He was powerful, a little arrogant, and extremely certain of his destiny. He pursued me with a vengeance. He showered me with expensive gifts and praise, and he took me to places I’d never been before. I got swept up in the fairy tale that became my life. That lasted for a year or two after we were married, and then, he began to change. Over time, he erased everything that was meaningful in my life, everything that he was not in control of, and I let it happen, Travis. I told myself that it was my duty as a wife; that I owed it to him for the life he gave me. I was wrong, but it was far too late when I began to realize it. One day, I just knew that I couldn’t take it anymore, and I ran just as fast as I could. I’m not very much like the woman you see in your photos, am I?” “How often do you have the bad dreams,” he asked. “…Every night,” she said solemnly. “I’m scared to death that someday he’ll find me.” “And then,” Anders questioned. “I can’t fight him, Travis, if he chooses not to let me go,” she said plainly. “You don’t fight Victor. He can be a very cruel man, and he delights in his cruelty these days.” “I see.” Anders responded. The black man stared off into the darkness that shrouded the room, and his thoughts raced. Finally, he kissed her forehead lightly, and draped a long powerful arm about her. “…You don’t have to be afraid, Morgan,” he said softly. “I can protect you.” “And, just how will you do that,” she asked with an ironic little chuckle. “…I’m that friend you needed, remember,” he smiled easily. “I never knew how much,” she said softly, running her fingertips along the soft flesh of his stomach. “I think I might be in love with you, Travis Anders.” The handsome black man said nothing. He just stared, and stroked the soft skin of her delicate cheek lightly. He settled in with his thoughts as the woman drifted back to sleep in the comfort of his arms. ***** The drive into Monterey County was breathtaking, and on this crisp clear day, with the sun warming her, and the wind blowing briskly through her thick auburn hair, Morgan Sonjes was able to forget all of the troubles and fears that were so dominant in her life. She rode along in the shiny blue convertible, beside the handsome black man that she was quickly coming to adore, and she felt closer to completeness than she had in her entire life. Their first stop was in Pebble Beach, at the site of the “Lone Cypress”, on the Point Lobos State Reserve. It was the perfect photo opportunity. The craggy rock formations on the rugged coastline, and the ancient forest of tall trees that lined the crest of the cliffs, brought her creative juices to the surface. She studied the terrain carefully, and snapped shots that she was certain of. As she worked, confidence in her ability to be an artist grew. The pretty woman suddenly understood her passion and her deep yearning as she eyed the majestic beauty that surrounded her. She also understood the purpose of the trip, and what Travis Anders had set out to accomplish in asking her along. She turned, and gave him a grateful little smile. The handsome black man responded with an assured little nod before he walked off to give her time alone with her newfound discovery. By late afternoon, they had reached Carmel-by-the-Sea, where they walked the neat cobblestone streets, and visited the quaint little shops there. They wound up in a little winery where they shared enthusiastic conversation over food and wine. Anders enjoyed her excitement, and spent much of his time listening, and studying her beauty. It was just before sunset, when they reached Big Sur. The brilliant hue of red and orange cascaded across the horizon over the serene ocean waters, and it was the closet thing to heaven that she had ever seen. She watched it all in the comfort and safety of the black man’s arms. They did not speak a word. None were needed. When the sun was beneath the ocean’s horizon, she turned and kissed the tall man deeply. After a few moments, she pulled back and studied him for a long moment. “Thank you,” she said softly. ***** Anders and the woman shared an evening meal of bread, cheese and wine on the spacious porch of their lodge room. The night was full of sounds that she had never heard before, and she marveled at them, giggling with the delight of a child each time she heard a new nocturnal sound. It was infectious, and in a short while, the black man was laughing with her. “You are absolutely amazing,” Anders grinned. “… …Where did you come from?” she asked softly. “What did I ever do to deserve such a wonderful gift…?” “I’m no saint, Morgan,” he interrupted gently. “Everyone has a dark side, believe me.” “Care to share yours,” the woman asked, a slow grin forming on her lips. Anders raised his glass, and took a long sip of his wine. The attractive woman did the same. “I’ll start a fire,” he said as he rose, and went back into the room. ***** Travis Anders drove the highway back toward the city in silence, late the next afternoon. He was out of time, and he had decisions to make. His thoughts raced, and he calculated the options left to him. Then, the scent of her filled his senses, and he could think of nothing else. Morgan Sonjes slept easily against his shoulder. He smiled as he thought of their non-stop session the night before. He was certain that the woman had to be exhausted. He only hoped that her dreams were peaceful. She stirred slightly, making herself more comfortable, and he kissed her head gently. ~~ The fire raged in the earthen hearth. The orange and yellow flames danced high above the large crackling logs, warming the room, and casting great shadows on Anders and the woman. They lay naked, kissing passionately, on a thick soft rug before the blaze. Her sleek, graceful build and the creamy coloring of her white skin was a perfect contrast to his powerful build, and his rich chocolate tone. Their bodies fit together perfectly like a matching set of spoons. Morgan Sonjes’ long delicate fingers clutched at the black man’s shoulders, while his fingers teased and dug between her parted legs, making her tremble when he touched her most sensitive places. She could not take her eyes from his, and she groaned, moaned, and her body reeled excitedly under the mastery of his touch. Suddenly, the attractive woman slithered from beneath him. She climbed onto him, and kissed him deeply. When she tore her lips from his, she was halfway to her orgasm. She breathed excitedly, and her eyes were glazed over with her mounting lust. She pushed him onto his back, swung her slender leg over his chest, and pushed her ass toward his face. Anders caught her ass cheeks in his big hands, and pulled her down to his mouth. As his tongue dug deep into her open pussy, she shuddered suddenly, and came. “Oooooooooooooo, Travis,” she moaned, dropping her forehead onto his muscular thigh. “You make me cum so easily…. Ohhhhhh, godddddd!” The black man alternated, sucking hungrily at her slick pussy lips, and thrusting his tongue repeatedly into the warm, weeping depths of her pussy. One finger teased the puckered opening of her tight little ass, and it drove her to the brink of ecstasy again. “Ohhhhhhh, put it in me,” she moaned excitedly. “Put your finger in my ass.” When the finger stabbed the tight little opening, her body exploded again, and she trembled violently. She rode her hips over his mouth wildly. She dropped her head, and fed his long thick black spear into her mouth. Her lips stretched and reached, trying to engulf more and more of his rigid cock into her hungry mouth. She would have gladly swallowed it if she could have, but there was far too much meat for her tiny mouth. Her head bobbed anxiously. Saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth, coating the shaft thickly. “Fuck my mouth,” she said, and gobbled the black rod again. Anders pushed his hips up at her slowly, once, twice, three times, and she let the cock slide freely. She raised her head again. “Harder,” she said. “Fuck my mouth harder.” The black man rolled, and fed his thick pole back into the woman’s waiting mouth. His head dove between her legs again, and he pumped his hips harder, drilling the tip of his big cock deeper and deeper into her mouth. His bloated balls danced before her eyes, exciting her. She dug her fingernails into the tight globes of his ass cheek, and he fucked her mouth deeper. Her lips stretched obscenely around his fat cock. Saliva dripped thickly from the corners of her mouth, and then, his balls blasted. He stiffened above her, and his cock jerked violently like a gas nozzle, pumping glob after glob of his thick cream down her throat. She gulped it down as fast as he could spurt it. The overflow coated her lips, and dripped down her cheeks Anders rolled weakly to her side, and watched as she threw both hands above her head, raised her knees and spread them wide. “Fuck me,” she groaned. “Fuck me forever….” ~~ Morgan Sonjes, stirred, and sat up on the seat. She grinned sheepishly when he glanced over at her. She unbuckled the seatbelt, turned, and inched toward him slowly. “Everything ok?” the black man asked. “Mmm-hmmmm,” was her only response. She straddled him, unbuckled his belt, and unzipped his pants quickly. She worked them down far enough to get his cock free. It sprang it the air with the strength of a jackknife blade, and the pretty woman grinned. She hiked the hem of the thin print sundress that she wore, pulled the crotch of her flimsy panties to one side, and inched the spear-like head of his cock into her pussy. “That must have been some dream,” he said with an easy chuckle. “Yes,” she sighed softly, all ready in the throes of heat. “God, yessssss.” The woman dropped her head to his shoulder, so that he could see the road as he drove. She nibbled at his neck, and hunched her hips over the cock until her pussy creamed on its length, and then, she rode it until he filled her sore gash and her belly with his soothing hot sperm. ***** Anders pulled up in front of her apartment long after dark. He got out of the car, walked around the car, and opened the door for her. Morgan Sonjes got out of the car, and took her overnight bag and camera case from the back seat. She began toward the door, and quickly realized that the tall black man was not beside her. She turned to see him still standing at the car door. He closed it easily, and looked at the woman. She instantly knew that her time with him was at an end, but she said nothing as she watched him walk slowly to where she stood. “I have to go, Morgan,” the black man said softly. Her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded her head slowly. Anders took her in his arms, and cradled her gently as she began to cry. “It’s going to be all right,” he soothed. “You know what you have to do now. You know the way to your happiness.” “But, I need you to make it worthwhile,” she sobbed. “It wouldn’t work, Morgan,” Anders reasoned. “Our paths are too different. This meeting was chance, a moment in time, and now, it’s over.” “God, Travis, don’t do this now,” she cried, wrapping her arms about his neck. “Stay with me just a few more days.” “That won’t make it any easier,” he said softly. “I love you.” “I love you,” she replied, pulling back to stare up in his eyes quizzically. “Then, be strong for me, and walk away…now,” he said. “I can’t,” she said, beginning to cry all over again. “You can,” he said firmly. “Do it.” He took the envelope from the pocket of his jacket, and slipped it into the outer pocket of her overnight bag. “This will get you started,” he said with a slight smile. “Money?” she asked in angry wonderment. “I don’t want your money, Travis.” “It’s not, my money,” he said quickly. “It’s yours. Goodbye, Morgan.” He turned quickly, and was gone before she could say another word. She watched as he got in the car and sped away from the curb carelessly. She felt a deep sense of emptiness and loss immediately. There was nothing she could do about it, but go on with her life. She turned, and walked into the apartment building slowly. It was the loneliest walk she had ever taken. ***** The pretty women paced a path across her living room floor aimlessly. Every so often, she would walk to the big window, and look up toward his hotel room. She could see his shadow dancing on the wall, and she knew he was packing to leave. She tried to force herself to go to him, but she knew deep inside that he would only send her away. Her thoughts turned to the true motive behind their meeting, and she began to feel foolish at having let her emotions run away from her. Just when she had convinced herself that all that had happened between them was an elaborate game, Anders stepped into view in the hotel room window. The somber look in his eyes told her all she that she would ever need to know about his feelings for her. He did love her, and if their circumstance had been different, so would have been their outcome. He sat down in the big easy chair, and stared down at her. She, in turn, climbed onto the sill of the bay window, and stared up at him. That was the way they spent the last hours of their time together. It was as close as they’d ever be again. ***** It was close to dawn when Anders lifted the receiver from the phone, and spoke briefly. Morgan Sonjes looked down anxiously at the empty street, saw the lone taxi on the hotel drive, and her heart began to race. Her eyes darted back to his window. He stood there staring, as if committing this last glimpse of her to memory forever. It made her cry. Anders pressed three fingers to his lips, and then, pressed them gently to the window pane. The woman did the same, and she watched him step away from the window. As she waited to catch a final glance of him on the hotel drive, she caught sight of the familiar black limousine. It cruised slowly down the empty street, made a smooth u-turn, and came to a stop at the curb in front of her building. Victor Sonjes climbed out of the rear seat, and stood on the sidewalk. His eyes searched the street calmly, assessing, and then, they turned up toward her apartment. Morgan Sonjes gasped sharply as she jumped from the bay, and backed aimlessly into the center of the room. Her eyes darted nervously to the front door of her apartment to ensure that the locks were on. Then, she just stood there, stone still, unable to move, or to even think clearly. She just awaited the inevitable. ~~ Victor Sonjes turned calmly, and began up the walkway toward the apartment building. He appeared in no great hurry, and there was nothing in his step that signaled anger in him. He was the perfect target. The infrared beam of light that settled on the back of his head went unnoticed. It was painless, and it marked the point of a certain kill. The shot that followed seconds later was silent and clean. Sonjes never knew what hit him. The single bullet threw him to the sidewalk in a sudden lurch, and he was dead before his body even settled on the hard, cold concrete. ~~ Morgan Sonjes lost track of time, until she heard the faint sound of sirens in the distance. She prayed silently that they were speeding to her rescue. She found the courage to inch toward the windows when she was certain that the sirens had stopped somewhere on the street outside her window. The whirling red emergency strobes flashed brightly, filling the living room of the loft with light. It almost blinded her when she took her first look out. After a few moments to let her eyes adjust, she saw the man laying facedown on the sidewalk. She shaded her eyes to get a clearer view, and studied the body of the man. When she finally recognized him, she gasped in soft amazement, and reeled away from the window. Scattered thoughts began to race in her head, and she struggled desperately to pull them together. How had this happened…? Why had it…happened? Who…had done…this? “… …My god,” she breathed softly to herself, as the answers rushed into her head. She rushed to the overnight bag that still sat at the end of the couch where she had left it. She yanked the envelope carelessly from the outer pocket where Anders had stuffed it, and ripped it open. She poured the four bundles of crisp new one hundred dollar bills onto the coffee table, and stared at them. There was a note attached to one of the bundles, held there by a single rubber band. The woman’s eyes read her name and her apartment address on the note in the familiar scrawl of her husband’s handwriting. The pieces of the puzzle fell together for her quickly from that point. With her sudden revelation came a renewed sense of urgency. Morgan Sonjes pulled the note from under the confines of the rubber band, and read it over again. She would never have gone so far as to believe that her husband would attempt to have her murdered. She had never believed him to be so ruthless, so heartless. She hadn’t known him at all. She lowered the paper note slowly, and held it over the candle flame that burned in the center of the coffee table. She watched it blacken to ash as she walked hurriedly toward the kitchen. She disposed of it, and stood with a blank stare. Suddenly, she felt very tired and sleepy. She would go to bed and sleep peacefully until the police came to question her about her husband’s murder. Her thoughts were only of Travis Anders as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. In a selfless act of mercy, the truth of his dark side had been revealed to her. He was a professional assassin, a killer for hire. She would have to accept that stark realization at some point. She wondered if it would make any difference to her. For this moment in time, what she knew for certain was that she didn’t love him any less, and that she never would. The End April, 2003