1 comments/ 115350 views/ 21 favorites Petty Cash Ch. 01 By: erotica_girl_nyc Sarah I pushed the window over to the side and clicked back on the one containing my work. Lifting my head, I looked around...no one had seen anything. My desk was situated in a position in a corner of the office, so it made it hard for people to sneak up on me and see what I was working on. Still, I was overly cautious. I didn't want anyone to see that I was actually looking at wedding photos instead of working. I clicked back on the wedding window. I sighed. The wedding in the pictures was so beautiful. My vision began to blur as my eyes teared up. I quickly dabbed them with a tissue and clicked back to my work. It wasn't that I was one of those weepy girls who cried anytime she saw a wedding. I looked at the clock. 4:55 p.m. Almost quitting time. I was near tears because I'd been planning my perfect wedding my whole life, and now that I'd met my perfect man, Dean, and we were only 6 weeks away from our wedding, it looked like I wasn't going to be able to have it... I noticed a movement in the corner of my eye. Mr. Munroe was heading my way. I straightened up in my chair as he made his way towards me. Mr. Munroe stopped right next to me. "Sarah, I need you to put this...oh, uh...are you okay?" he asked, referring to my watering eyes. "Allergies." He looked at me for a moment. He was the very embodiment of a boss cliché: tall, athletic but not overly-muscular, handsome...and slightly arrogant. I'd had a crush on him when I first started working at the firm, but that was before I'd met Dean. "Here's a list of things we're going to need for the meeting tomorrow," he said, handing me a slip of paper. "Take it out of petty cash. And don't work so hard, you look terrible." I glanced at the mirror hanging on the wall of my cubicle. Bags under my eyes, mascara running, hair askew. He was right, I did look terrible. "No problem, Mr. Munroe," I said. He looked at me for a moment, then quickly glanced down at my breasts before turning and walking away. I stood and watched him go. The office was clearing out now, most people heading home for the day. I looked at the list in my hand: bottles of water, pens...usual meeting stuff. I sat down, pulled out my keys, and unlocked the bottom drawer of my desk. Inside was a small lock box. We were a small company, but had great growth potential. When I started, I was one of 20 employees. We now had 45. I pulled the lock box out and set it on my desk, then unlocked it using a different key. I flipped the lid back. $10,000 in twenty and fifty-dollar denominations, the company's petty cash. I stood again, looking around carefully to see if anyone else was in the office. It was clear. I sat back down in my chair and looked at the money. *** Dean "A nice rare hamburger sounds good," I thought, browsing the menu. I set it down on the table and took a swig from my beer, already my second. I looked up just as Sarah walked into the restaurant. She looked radiant, bubbly. A nice change considering the stress we'd be experiencing the last few weeks. She skipped over to the table and sat down. "Hi, honey!" she said. "You look happy," I said. "I just finished paying off all the wedding stuff!" she said. "Terrific! How did you--did the insurance come in?" I asked. She shook her head no. Confused, I looked at her for a second. She had a strange look on her face. "Then how...?" She leaned in close to me and lowered her voice. "What we talked about!" she said, her eyes wide. I was drawing a blank. "You know..." she turned her head to look around to see if anyone was listening, then turned back to me. "You know, the petty cash at work..." she winked at me. "Oh my God!" I yelped. My skin warmed as a rush of adrenaline coursed through my veins. Suddenly the waiter was there and I dummied up. "Two shots of Jamison!" Sarah said. "We're celebrating!" When the shots arrived and we quickly slammed them. "Be right back, gotta hit the lady's room," Sarah said, hopping out of her chair and slinking away. I couldn't keep my eyes off her ass as she walked. I couldn't believe she really took the money. I had only suggested it in jest. But we really did need the money. We'd already submitted so many non-refundable deposits...I had a big bonus coming in about three months. Enough to cover the wedding, or I guess now enough to payback the petty cash fund at her work. Actually, it was perfect! She was the only one who ever did anything with petty cash. This would work, I knew it would. By the time she came back to the table, I'd had another beer already and was feeling pretty good. I watched her walk back form the bathroom. She had a sort of swing in her step, a naughty lilt. I could tell she was up to something. She winked at me as she approached the table. "What're you up to?" I asked playfully. She casually looked around the bar, there were a few other people around, none of them were really looking our way but we weren't particularly isolated. Her hands crept down her body, past her waist and down her skirt to the hem. She wrapped her fingers around the bottom and she quickly pulled up. She lifted her skirt and held it there. I looked down between her legs and...She wasn't wearing any panties! She slowly turned around, giving anyone who happened to be looking an eyeful. Then she quickly lowered her skirt and hopped back up on her stool. I could feel my face flush. I nervously scanned the bar. There was an older guy by the door sort of looking our way, but I don't think he saw. Suddenly she had my hand. She was pulling it towards her, down between her legs. Her knees spread as she pulled my hand closer. I watched it disappear under her skirt, feeling the warmth of her thighs, her crotch. She bent my fingers so only my middle was extended, aiming for her opening. I felt my finger slide up inside of her pussy. Wet. Hot. Tight. My thumb found her clitoris and started rubbing, my middle finger stroking in and out. I had my hand up my fiancée's skirt, finger fucking her in the middle of a bar! God it was dangerous! A rush of nervousness overcame me, and I tried pulling my hand back, but she just squeezed my hand tighter. She was grinding forward onto my hand. Her eyes were half closed and she was moaning quietly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the waiter making his way over to us. I yanked as hard as I could, finally pulling my hand free from Sarah's grasp. "Aw...please, baby?" Suddenly the waiter was there. "How is everything so far?" *** Munroe It was a room hidden away down one of the maintenance corridors, few if any of the employees new it existed. I put my key in the lock and twisted, the lock made a loud clanking noise as it opened. The door was a big, heavy, metal thing, and I had to really lean into it to get it to move. The room was chilly. I had just bought a small security company, and to really test their products, I had them install their top of the line equipment in the office. The room had to be air-conditioned year round, as there were so many computer processors working constantly, throwing off a lot of heat. If the room got too, hot they would over heat and shut down. I sat at the main computer terminal and tapped the keyboard, bringing the screen to life. If everything worked as I hoped, the security aspect of my company would become the primary source of income with in 5 years. They were small when I bought them, but they'd invented a new way to capture high-def color video using a fraction the amount of processing power usually needed. As the screen came to life, I dialed up the main office camera. It was about 5:15 on a Friday, so no one was in the office. Fuck if it isn't hard to find good help. Suddenly I noticed some movement on the far side of the room. Sarah Anderson. She stood up and looked around the room briefly and then sat down again. What is she up to? I thought. I dialed in to the camera above her cubicle. The petty cash box was sitting on her desk... *** Sarah "Morning, Sarah!" one of the secretaries said as I strolled off the elevator. "You look so happy this morning!" "I am, Beatrice!" "Mr. Munroe wants to see you in his office first thing," she said. "Okay, thanks, B." I walked back to my desk and set my things down, then made my way over to Munroe's corner office. It was the only office in the place, actually, set back in the North West corner. When we first moved into these offices it was lined with windows, but Munroe being a private man, he had the place remodeled, taking out the windows and putting up walls. I understood why he did it, but it made him isolated from his employees, which fostered resentment. But I guess it was his prerogative. "Sarah, come in, sit down," Munroe said as I closed the door behind me. I took a seat at the chair directly across from his desk. I could tell by the look on his face that something was bothering him. I waited for him to speak first. He sat there in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Then he finally spoke. "You know, I had this big long speech prepared, but now...Sarah, let me show you something. I want you to watch this and tell me what you think about it." He clicked something with his mouse, then turned his monitor around so I could see it. It was...what was it? A video of the office, but it was empty...no wait there was something moving at the top of the screen. And suddenly the video changed...it was over my cubicle. Oh shit, that's me, reaching into the bottom drawer, taking out the petty cash box. What is going...oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit. "Mr. Munroe, I can explain—" I started. "Just watch." The me on the screen opened the petty cash box, proceeded to count out eight-thousand dollars, folded it neatly and stuffed it in my purse. My vision blurred, eyes teary. "Please, Mr. Munroe. My wedding is—" my voice cracked. I saw my self in jail. Dean leaving me. No one wants a convict. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. "Did you think you could get away with this?" Munroe asked. "Our wedding is coming up soon...and, and we just...oh my God!" I buried my face in my hands. "Did you think you wouldn't get caught? Embezzling is a serious offense, Sarah." "Oh my God!" I looked up at him. "Please, Mr. Munroe. Please! Don't have me arrested. I'll do anything! Please! My wedding is only six weeks—please Mr. Munroe! I'll do anything! Just don't have me arrested." He stared at me as I quietly sobbed. He had a curious look on his face. We sat there in silence, my sobs the only noise. Then he slid a box of tissues across his desk to me. "Clean your self up and go back to your desk. I have to decide what I'm going to do. I'll call you back in when I'm ready." *** Munroe Anything. Anything. She said she'd do anything. I had forgotten that she was getting married. I quickly called up her personnel file on my computer. What was her fiance's name again...John I think. No, Dean. I sat there for a moment. I hadn't had an opportunity like that in a long time. I hatched a plan in my head. It was going to be difficult, but I had an advantage going in. I was pretty sure I could pull it off. *** Dean I leaned around the corner of the shelf, looking to make sure no one was watching. It was clear, everyone was on their lunch break. I turned my back to the security camera and casually slipped three packs of birth control into my pocket. It was one of the benefits of working at a pharmacy, free drugs. That is if you knew what you were doing. Corporate had a certain amount of theft built into the monthly budget anyway, so I just fudged a few prescriptions, turned my back to the security cameras, and voila! Sarah got free birth control. It wasn't like I was just being greedy. Sarah's job was good and all, but the health insurance sucked. The only birth control they covered on her plan gave her all sorts of terrible side effects. We weren't ready for kids, and we really couldn't pay out of pocket for the prescriptions, so four times a year I would pocket three packs for her. Suddenly my phone rang. "Pharmacy." "Dean?" It was Sarah. She was crying. "Sarah? What's wrong?" I heard a voice in the background on her end. "Oh...it's just, crap...I have to go, Dean. I'll call you later." *** Sarah I was trying to stifle my crying into the phone when Beatrice walked up to my desk with a note in her hand. "You okay, honey?" she asked. "I have to go, Dean. I'll call you later," I said into the phone. I hung up and took the note from her hand. It was from Munroe. He wanted to see me. "Honey?" she asked again. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" "I asked if you were alright." "Yeah, I'm fine, just my damn allergies acting up again." The handle on Munroe's door felt so cold as if it could burn me. I sat there for a moment, contemplating my impending downfall. Jail time. Wedding off. The complete ruining of my life. I slowly turned and pushed the door open. It creaked as I peered through. Munroe was sitting at his desk looking up at me. "Come in," he boomed. I took a step in and closed the door behind me. He just sat there...looking at me. Thinking. We waited like that, me standing near the door and him at his desk, for what seemed like an hour. The he spoke. "What would you do to keep me from turning this tape into the police?" he asked, looking me directly in the eye. My heart was going to beat out of my chest. I swallowed hard. I was no dummy. I knew what he meant. I looked around the room...looking for something to save me. The different options were all running through my head. All the possibilities...but I knew there were only two. I had to decide. I looked back at him and took a deep breath. My mouth was dry. "Anything," I said, trying to swallow. "I'll do anything." He waited for a moment, just looking at me. Looked up and down my body. My legs. My breasts. Looked at my eyes. Looked deep into my soul. I shivered. Suddenly he pushed his chair back form the desk. "Come over here," he said. My feet felt like blocks of marble. I could barely lift them. I took all my effort to move my one foot a mere six inches. As I trudged around the side of his desk, I watched him. His eyes on me. His perfect hair. His hands as they traveled towards his crotch, grasped the zipper of his fly and slowly lowered it. "Get it out," he said. I found myself kneeling down between his legs, looking up at his dark eyes. I slid my hands over the smooth fabric of his slacks, up the inside of his thighs. Where the zipper opened seemed like some sort of black hole...I had no choice but to reach in there. I fished my hand in. He wasn't wearing any underwear...I felt his coarse pubic hair, trimmed short, surrounding the base of his cock. It felt warm and thick. I wrapped my fingers around it...a jolt of electricity surged through my body. I felt as if I was going to pass out. My legs felt weak. I slowly pulled my hand back out. I watched my hand retreat from his pants, my fingers surrounding his cock, slowly pulling it into view. Shaft emerging. It seemed to go on forever. Lifting. Lifting. Finally the head of his penis sprang into view, all thick and red and angry. He was uncircumcised. His cock swelled in my hand, growing harder and longer. This was only the second penis I'd seen in person. I looked up at him. "Suck it." I nervously looked back at his penis. It was still growing, pulsing in my hand. I hesitated. I thought about springing up from my position, running out of the office, running to my car, picking up Dean, fleeing to Mexico. I thought about it. Nervously, I leaned forward, opening my mouth. A bead of precum emerged from the tip of his cock. I could feel the heat from his penis on my face as I got closer. I opened my mouth wider, moving down. I could feel the heat on my lips...then on my tongue. Reflexively, I lifted my tongue, caressing the underside of his penis with it. Slightly salty. I closed my lips around the head of his cock as best I could. A sudden thought flashed through my brain: My boss's cock is bigger than my fiancé's cock. I felt a tinge run through my body. A rush of emotions. Guilt. Excitement. Arousal. I lowered my head further, his cock sliding deep in to the back of my mouth. I started running my hand up and down the remaining length of his shaft. Bobbing my head up and down. I was giving my boss a blowjob. "Look at me," he commanded. I looked up. He was staring straight into my eyes. I felt myself start to go teary eyed. His cock swelled even more inside my mouth. I increased my speed, bobbing up and down, up and down. "Don't look away, look at me," he commanded again. I didn't even realize I'd looked away. I looked back up at him. He was starting to squirm in his seat. I jerked him with my hand even faster, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock as I bobbed up and down. I was making a loud slurping noise, and I was sure people could hear me through the door. The whole office was probably listening at the door, giggling...gossiping quietly about Sarah in Mr. Munroe's office, giving him a blowjob! No, you don't say! Yes! And did you know she's engaged! Oh my! I wonder what her fiancé will say? My head felt spinny, light. My skin felt flush, I must have been blushing. Horny. Dampness between my legs. I wanted to grab Munroe's balls, but his pants were in the way. He was beginning to squirm. Images flashed through my mind...Mr. Munroe on top of me, pinning my arms down, both of us naked— "Here it comes. Swallow it all," he breathed. I bobbed faster. Up-down. Up-down. Up-down. His hand on my wrist. Squeezed tight. His legs flexed. Up-down. Up-down. His eyes rolled back into his head. His cock swelled in my mouth. Release! Hot fluid spurting! Hard against the back of my throat! Mouth flooded! Tastes sweet! Wonderful! Another spurt! Swallow! Spurt! Swallow! His legs shuddering! Moaning! Still spurting! So much cum! Swallow it all! Swallow all my boss's cum! Spurt! Spurt...spurt. It seemed like a gallon of cum. After a moment, his cock was less hard, though he was still orgasming, his cum still flowing from his penis into my mouth. I continued to swallow as his orgasm started to subside. I kept sucking even after he was no longer cumming. I didn't want to spill a drop on his trousers. After a minute or so, he raised his hand up to my shoulder and pushed me back. His cock slipped out of my mouth and I felt a rush of cool air replace it. He put his cock back in his pants and zipped up. I expected everyone to be gathered around the door as I stepped back out of Munroe's office. But of course everyone was at their desk working. I kept my head down as I made my way back to my desk, trying to keep my flushed skin out of view. Once at my desk, I grabbed my things and made for the exit. I was taking the rest of the day off, fuck everyone else. I got in my car and immediately started bawling. It wasn't just the reality of what I'd just done in Munroe's office. It was the walk from the exit of the building to my car...specifically as I stepped down from the curb, when I realized that my panties were thoroughly soaked. Drenched with my own arousal. I sat there for probably ten minutes crying before starting up my car and driving out of the parking lot. On the way home I stopped at a drug store and bought a mini bottle of mouthwash, which I used before I got home. *** Munroe I closed the heavy metal door behind me and sat down at the security console. I dialed up the camera located above my desk in my office. I rewound the footage a half hour and hit play. I watched on screen as Sarah walked into the room and kneeled down in front of me. Apparently she would never learn. I hit the Quick Copy button. Petty Cash Ch. 01 So far, my plan was going just as I'd hoped. ********** This is the first chapter of a longer story that I already have planned out and am in the process of writing. So please, give me feedback! I really appreciate it! Especially from my fellow ladies, as that is the target demographic I'm looking at. Plus I'm always looking for more female erotica pen pals! I'm also looking for a proof reader/editor if anyone is interested. Please let me know! Petty Cash Ch. 02 Sarah That week hung like a boulder around my neck. I felt horrible and I know Dean could tell something was up. I had to explain away the phone call I made to him at work, make up some lie, I don't even remember what. He believed it though. He always believes my lies. We would usually have sex a few times a week, but I'd been begging off each night. I couldn't get the memory of Munroe out of my mind. His dark eyes as he looked down at me. The musty smell of his aftershave. The salty tang of his heavy cock lying on my tongue. That joyful agony shuddering across his face as his orgasm approached. The honey-sweet taste as he came in my mouth. The heat in my throat as I swallowed it all. I'd never felt so powerless before. Usually I would talk to Dean when I was feeling upset, but I couldn't talk to him about this. I knew he'd do something drastic, like freak out and murder Munroe. Then we'd be even worse off. I avoided Munroe as much as I could that week. After two days, I realized the situation was untenable. I started working on my resume that night. I had to get out of that job. As I typed away at my computer, a sardonic thought crossed my mind: I wonder if Munroe will give me a letter of recommendation. I chuckled to myself. Then a darker thought: what if he badmouthed me to every place I applied. Pretty much all my experience came from working for him. This job was the only serious entry on my resume. Shit. Friday morning. Early. Waiting for the elevator. The lobby had the marble sheen and gaudy, warmed-over-shit aesthetic of the early 80s. All gold and brown. The company could probably afford space in a better building now, but this was all we could afford when we started out. I'd been coming in early so I could leave before 5. It made it easier to avoid Munroe that way. The elevator dinged, doors opened and I stepped inside. Pressed the button for 16th floor. Waited. A little whirring noise and the doors started closing. Just before they were fully closed, a hand snaked in. The doors reversed course, sprung back, reopening. I looked up to see who it...Munroe. Fuck. He stared into my eyes as he stepped on the elevator. He somehow seemed taller. Or more massive. I felt my body tense. A fear rise up through me as I casually shuffled over into the corner. He pressed the door close button and stood silently next to me. The musty smell of his aftershave filled the elevator. My skin prickled. Light headed. The whole elevator suddenly shifted his way, as if gravity was pulling me down to him. I held onto the railing to steady myself and watched, horrified, as the floor numbers ticked by at an ungodly slow pace. 2......3.......4.......5.......7.........8....... My mouth felt dry and I licked my lips. I didn't want to look at him, but as we inched past floor 12, I worked up enough courage to give him a sidelong glance. But he was just staring forward. Ding! Finally! The 16th floor. The longest elevator ride of my life. I waited for him to exit. But instead he turned and looked me up and down. "Join me in my office," he commanded, raising his arm to indicate that I was to lead the way. I looked at him for a moment. Stubble. He hadn't shaved today. I looked out of the elevator, looking for...an escape? All I saw was the cleaning crew, three men and one women, all Hispanic and as regular as a clock. Looked back at Munroe. The elevator doors started closing. He pressed the door open button and they retracted again. "Go," he said. I feigned confidence. Stepped out of the elevator. Two of the cleaners looked up at us. I wish I'd bothered to learn their names. Could they help me? I wonder if they even spoke English. Too late, we were at his office. He unlocked the door and I followed him inside. The door shut behind me. He rounded his desk and proceeded to start his computer. Then he unlocked a desk drawer, reached in and pulled out an expensive looking camera. He turned the camera on and looked up at me. "Put your arms on the back of your head," he commanded. "No." I spat back. He looked at me, unfazed. "Don't make me repeat myself." "I don't have to do what you say anymore. I don't care what you have..." "The video of you embezzling money from my company? Forget the cops. What do you think your husband and family would think of that?" he asked, bemused. He called my bluff. Only one choice—double down. "They won't care. Dean won't care. He loves me. And no video will change that!" He smiled and nodded at me, then reached into his desk and pulled out a tabletop tripod. He attached the camera to it and set it on his desk so it was angled it at me. Then he started typing something into his computer. "Well do you think Dean will still love you after he sees this video?" He turned his monitor around so it faced me. Shit. I looked up at the ceiling, trying to find...there it was, off in the corner. A small, unobtrusive black dome. A camera. I watched the me on the monitor walk around Munroe's desk and crouch down between my legs. He'd somehow blurred his own face out, but mine was still plainly visible. My hand reached into his pants... "So as I said," he interrupted, pausing the video, "hands on your head." I stared into his eyes. It was almost as if I could see the scheming malevolence oozing from his irises. I thought I was afraid of him enough before, but I had clearly underestimated him. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck! I took a deep breath. My arms trembled as I lifted them up, bending my elbows. I placed my hands behind my head. My fingers slid into each other. Interlocking. Munroe never took his eyes off me as he circled around the desk, walking in front of me, closer. Closer still. Inches. I could feel his warm breath on my face. Smell it. Fuck him, even his breath smelled good. "You're going to enjoy this," he whispered. He stepped to the side and pulled a small remote from his pocket. Flash! Bright white light suddenly blinding me. He'd used the remote to take a picture of me. He stepped back in front of me and started unbuttoning my blouse from top to bottom. Slowly. Deliberately. Exposing my flesh to the cool air. Lower. Lower. Button after button. All the way to the bottom. He grabbed the fabric and pulled violently up, untucking my blouse from my skirt. Lifted the blouse up, pulling it off my arms, and threw it on the floor next to his desk. My arms back on my head. "Nice bra," he uttered while snapping the next photo. In the turmoil of the week, I hadn't had time to do laundry, so the only clean underwear I had left were my fancy things. The stuff I wore for Dean on his birthday. Sexy. Lacy. Black. He walked behind me and grabbed my skirt waist, the zipper. His thick fingers on the small of my back. Lowering. The dull whisk of the zipper. His fingers traveling lower, down my butt. A looseness at my waist and the skirt dropped to the floor. "Step out of it," he said, snapping another photo. I did as he commanded. "Kick it over with your blouse." I did. He snapped several pictures in a row of me standing there in nothing but my bra and panties, hands on my head in the middle of his office. "Lower your arms." Again I did what he said. My arms felt like dead weight hanging at my sides. He circled back behind me again. I couldn't keep my eyes open. His breath on my neck. Inhaling my scent. Deeply. I waited for him to touch me. Caress. Something. Anything. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. Tingling from my head to my toes. His fingers on my spine. Gentle. Forceful. Working their way up. The length of my back. Shudder. My bra. Clasp. Thick fingers underneath. Pulling. Lift. Pressure. Release. Tickling my shoulder. Both shoulders. Sliding down. I looked down as he exposed my breasts. The cool air kissing my flesh. Hardening my nipples. Threw the bra over with the rest of my clothes and snapped several more photos. In my face again. His aftershave wafting. Skin tingling flesh electric. God, what was he doing to me? How was I letting this happen? Eye to eye. "Are you ready for this?" he breathed. Something inside me screamed yes! But I held my tongue. I wasn't supposed to be doing this! Wasn't supposed to be getting this thrill! Kneeling down in front of me. Hands on my thighs. Inside. Working up. Teasing. Past my crotch. On my stomach. Thumbs curled under. Hooking the fabric. Slowly. Inching downward. Lower. Tingling between my legs. Rustling fabric. Dropping. Wet. Over my hips. Down. My thighs. Lowering. My pubic hair peeking out. Panties falling. Past my knees! Ankles! His breath on my labia! My vagina was completely exposed. Vulnerable. Right at his eye level. He was staring at it. Staring at my exposed pussy. A shiver ran down my spine. Body pulsing. Heat. Blushing cheeks. Licking lips. Moaning. "You're soaking wet." He looked up at me, then back down at my pussy. It was true. I was. I could feel my wetness. Feel my arousal. I wanted him to stick his tongue out. I wanted him to lean forward and lick me... Flash. Pictures snapped. His face was so close. My hips reflexively thrust forward. But just a bit. Not enough to touch him. He stood. Showed me my panties. The wet spot in the crotch. Another flash. He walked over and dropped my panties on the pile of clothes. "Sit." He commanded. Oh God, he's going to fuck me. He's going to fuck me right here in his office. He's forcing me to cheat on Dean! Make a cuckold of him before we're even married! I turned and sat in the armchair near me. He picked the camera up from his desk and moved over in front of me, snapping pictures the whole time. I could see the bulge growing in his pants. The large bulge getting larger. "Hook your legs over the arm rests." I pulled my knees up and hitched them over the sides of the chair. He snapped a photo. My pussy was splayed open to him. My wetness running down, pooling on the chair. Images flashed through my head. Fantasies. His clothes in a matching pile next to his desk. Naked. Chest broad and strong. Erect penis. Heavy balls. Virile. Lowering himself towards me. Holding his fat swollen cock by the base. Rubbing it up and down my wet slit. Putting the swollen cock head just inside my vagina... "Rub yourself." He was inside my head. My hands were already down there. Finger on my clit. Rubbing. Up and down. Circling. Back and forth. I was already past halfway there. Flash! Looking into the camera! Flash! Breath! Breathe! Rubbing! Clitoris tingling warm! Rushing blood! Head back! Mouth open! Lips! Dry! Flash flash! Images of him thrusting forward. Nibbling my ear. In and out. Kissing me. Tongue in my mouth. In and out. Swelling. Filling me full. Stretching me wonderfully! Flash! Flash! Reality. Finger on my clit. Frantic rubbing! A blur for a hand! Tingling! Rubbing up and down! Up and down! Circling! Toes pointing! Muscles tensing! Closer....closer....here it comes! Here it comes! Cumming! Cumming hard! Cloudy chemicals flowing. Cumming hard, naked on the armchair as my boss takes pictures of me in the middle of his office! Stomach contracting. Juices oozing. Staring straight into my boss's eyes though the camera lens as snapped dozens of photos of me and my flushed body convulsing with orgasm. Moaning. A loud moaning sound. Me. I was the one moaning loudly. I closed my mouth, stifling the moan. My wits began to return to me. Shit that was loud. The cleaning crew must have heard that. Munroe snapped another photo, then lowered the camera. As I melted into the chair, catching my breath, he walked over to his desk. He picked up my bra and panties and placed them inside his desk drawer. Then he locked it. "If you don't want these photos to get out," he held up the camera, "you'll never wear a bra or panties to work again, got it?" In my haze I nodded. "Now get dressed." I hauled my self out of the chair and over to what remained of my pile of clothes. I turned my back to him as I slipped on my skirt and buttoned my blouse. Looking down, my nipples were clearly visible poking through the thin fabric. I walked over to the door and opened it. Waiting on the other side of the door was the entire cleaning crew, three men and one woman, all staring at me with smiles on their faces. I pushed past them and made my way to the bathroom and into a stall. I pulled off a huge wad of toilet paper and reached up my skirt to dry all the fluids leaking from my pussy before they soaked through the skirt. *** Munroe I quickly downloaded the photos to my computer, scanning through and marking the good ones. The one of her as she came...the look on her face...damn! I could make millions of dollars off of this photo. This was going to be easier than I thought. ******* This is the second chapter of a longer story that I already have planned out and am in the process of writing. So please, give me feedback! I really appreciate it! Especially from my fellow ladies, as that is the target demographic I'm looking at. Plus I'm always looking for more female erotica pen pals! I'm also looking for a proof reader/editor if anyone is interested. Please let me know! Petty Cash Ch. 03 Dean I sat naked in the darkened den. The only illumination in the room came from the soft glow of the computer screen. I gazed at the computer screen, staring at a pair of fake tits. Those fake women never did anything for me. Their hair extensions with their fake orange tans and fake tits jiggling as they faked an orgasm. They never could turn me on. I slid the mouse up to the X and closed the browser window. I needed real women with healthy, realistic bodies when I was looking at porn. Women who had bodies like Sarah's. I was always looking for stuff like that. Her boobs weren't small, but they weren't the huge fake double D's men are told they're supposed to like. And she had two cute little moles about three inches beneath her right breast. I loved Sarah's moles. They were one of my favorite things about her body. But now with every Joe Schmoe having a copy of Photoshop, they would airbrush away all women's interesting eccentricities, removing any mole or birthmark, anything that made them unique or alive. I heard a ping noise and the chat window started flashing. I clicked back over to it, continuing the conversation I'd been having . "So how long has it been since you two last had sex?" M asked. "About two weeks, I think." I responded. M was kind of like an online pen pal. We met in a Yankees baseball chat room a few weeks earlier and quickly struck up a friendship. It was easy, since he had almost the exact same interests as I did. As conversations often go among anonymous internet chatters, the topic quickly turned to sex...talking about our wives, the porn we liked, etc. "Why so long? Are you in her dog house?" "I don't think so. But I can't figure out any other reason," I typed. "So that's why you've been online so often as of late," M typed. "Yeah." "Here, I found a website you're going to love." "Send it over," I typed, praying it was something good. I was starting to get frustrated. I'd been sitting naked at my computer for almost an hour and my penis was still flaccid. The link popped up in the window and I clicked it. "A buddy of mine sent it to me. Apparently it's some hidden footage of some married chick screwing her boss," M typed. The website loaded...the banner across the top read "Wife Isn't Getting Enough At Home, Cheats With Her Boss in His Office!" I immediately felt the warm flow of blood rushing into dick, slowly growing stiff. There were dozens of photos on the screen. I clicked on the first picture and it immediately filled my computer screen. She was standing there, naked, in the middle of the room, her hands planted on her hips, leaning slightly on her left leg. Her nipples protruded noticeably and her legs spread enough that I could see her vagina glistening with moisture. I'm usually suspicious of these types of photos. Often they're just professionals pretending to be amateurs. But these photos did seem to be security cam footage, good quality, and of a real office. They seemed real. Pixilated patch of nothingness covered her face. Her face was blurred out. So was her boss's. But she had a nice body. She was exactly what I was looking for. In good shape, a healthy, realistic body, but clearly not someone who was able to spend hours everyday at the gym. A real woman with a real body. And her breasts even looked a lot like Sarah's. I examined her up and down. Actually, a lot about her looked like Sarah. The hair and skin coloring were almost identical. Her nape curved in a very similar fashion. Wait...was this my Sarah...? But no, this girl had no moles under her right breast. Still, she was pretty hot--the next best thing to Sarah herself. I wrapped my hand around my still hardening dick and slowly stroked up and down, shuffling through the various photos on the site. I clicked back to the main page and then on the next photo. It was a photo of her leaning back in an armchair, splayed out naked. Her legs hooked over the arms of the chair, her head leaning back and her skin flush with arousal. Her hands were near her crotch, fingers extended. Her left pulled back her clitoral hood giving her right easy access to the clit itself. She was masturbating. Frigging herself for her boss in the middle of his office. Letting him take pictures of her and post them on the internet. I noticed something shiny on her left ring finger. It had also been blurred out, but you could still tell what it was-- a wedding ring. "Hot isn't she?" M typed. "Yes," I typed with one hand. "She sort of looks like my wife," he replied. "Yeah, she looks a bit like my fiancee!" I paged through some more pictures. A photo of her with her eyes closed, hands behind her head, standing naked in the middle of the room. Having her hands behind her head forced her tits to thrust outward, displaying her erect nipples for her boss. She wore an unusual look on her face...a mixture of fear and ecstasy. Her boss was clearly telling her to stand like this and she was submitting completely to his commands. I started stroking faster. "Are you jerking?" he typed. "Yes." "Me too." I moved on, clicking through photo after photo, easily jerking myself toward orgasm. After the tenth photo, I got to one of her kneeling down between her boss's legs. I quickly clicked through the next several photos, watching this slut slowly reached into his pants, pull out his big, hardening cock, gently lowering her hot mouth around his thick dick head, and sucking it lustfully into her mouth. That's it, baby, I thought as I quickly stroked my hand up an down my dick. Suck on your boss's cock real nice. Yeah, you like that, huh? You don't blow your husband like that, do you? You're hubby ain't giving it to you good enough, is he? "You gotten to the blowjob pics yet?" M typed. "Just did." "Hot, aren't they?" "Yes." "Her boss has a big cock," M typed. "Yep." "Bigger than mine." "Bigger than me, too," I confessed. I kept stroking, watching this wife give her boss a blowjob. Watching from picture to picture. He was getting more and more aroused, the muscles in his neck flexing. His legs tensing, his hands clenching tightly on the armrests, knuckles turning white. Wifey continued bobbing her head up and down on his big hard cock, slurping, sucking. Getting turned on by her boss's big cock in her mouth. God, I can't believe what a little slut this girl is. I stroked faster. My head was starting to feel light. My skin tingling. Legs tensing, pushing against the wall beneath the computer desk. A heavy fap, fap, fap noise filled the room. I felt my ass muscles clench as I quickly charged toward the point of no return. "I'm really close to cumming, you?" M typed. "Yep," I typed, quickly clicking back over to the photos. I was stroking furiously. I saw the end in sight, and I really wanted to get there. Click, new picture: His cock was swelling in her mouth as she continued sucking him closer to the edge, his orgasm about to gush forward... Strokestrokestrokestroke. Click, Boss's body tenses, his head drops backward. Strokestrokestrokestroke. Click, Boss's orgasm erupting, spraying his cum into Wifey's mouth. My cock swelled. Balls tightened. Ascended. Eye lids heavy. Here it comes. Here it... Suddenly M typed: "Imagine she's your fiancée." Looked back to the photo. Try to push the thought out of my brain, but it was already there! Sarah, my fiancee, sucking her boss's cock, swallowing his cum! I didn't want that thought in my head. I tried to regain control, to keep my self from cumming, to hold it off...to just hold it.... Spurt! I watched the first shot of cum erupting out the tip of my cock, flying through the air, landing just below my neck! My eyes closed and I saw images of Sarah sucking his cock! Spurt! Sarah swallowing his cum! Spurt! Her fucking him! Another spurt! And another. My ass clenched and released, clenched and released. Breathing ragged. My stomach muscles were flexing, contracting, pushing out as much of my cum as possible. I felt my head fall back onto my shoulders and heard my self groaning loudly as images of Sarah doing all sorts of dirty things shot like lightning through my brain. Dirty, depraved things. Bent over naked grabbing her ankles while being plowed from behind. Being gang banged by three masked men. Dressed in leather, latex and wearing a corset. My head spun. After a minute, my orgasm slowly subsided. I lifted my head back up and looked at the chat window. M had typed some more: "I am. It's hot." I stared, trying to regain my mental faculties. Then I typed: "That's a strange thing to put into a guys head when he's jerking off." "Yeah, but it made you cum real hard, didn't it?" It had. It had been one of the top five orgasm I'd ever experienced. I stared at the blinking cursor, not knowing what to type. After a moment, I looked up and saw the clock. It was almost time for me to leave for work. "Gotta get going, talk to you later," I typed. I quickly signed off before he could respond. *** Sarah The elevator ride was both the longest and shortest of my life. I felt my heart beating in my throat as I slowly ascended to the 16th floor. Finally, the elevator doors glided open and cool air massaged my legs before wafting up the inside of my thighs and planting its cold kiss on my uncovered labia. My body shivered as a I felt a rush course through my veins. "I can't believe I'm doing this," I thought. I took a deep breath and stepped forward into our office. My hands were shaking. The receptionists weren't in yet. "Calm down, Sarah," I thought to myself. "It's not like this is the first time you've worn a skirt without any panties." But I'd only ever done it in public...what, maybe three times?...and each of those times I had been drunk, and on vacation in another city. And Dean had been around to protect me incase anything went wrong. Now I was completely sober and not only was Dean not around, he didn't even know what was going on. I'd had to alter my normal morning routine, getting dressed in the bathroom instead of in the bedroom so that Dean wouldn't see that I was wearing a skirt with no panties and a blouse with no bra. Luckily Dean worked the second shift on Friday's, so he wasn't even awake by the time I left. I suddenly snapped back to the present. It felt like I'd been standing in front of the elevator for hours. I began to walk casually toward my desk, or I tried to look casual, anyway. I couldn't help but look down as I walked. There were two small bumps pressing prominently against the fabric of my blouse, My erect nipples. "Wow my nipples are hard," I thought. "Is that because I'm cold, or because I'm..." I couldn't bring myself finish the thought. I looked up to see if anyone was looking at me, noticing that I wasn't wearing a bra, the funny way I was walking... Luckily I was a bit early, so the office was still mostly empty. There were a few people over on the far side of the floor, but they already had their heads buried in their work. Getting to my cubicle I quickly sat down at my desk and exhaled a huge sigh of relief. MAking it from the elevator to my cubicle without getting noticed was a victory as far as I was concerned. I looked up over my cubicle wall. Munroe's door was closed. That meant he was already in. I had expected Munroe to call me into his office immediately first thing in the morning. That prospect hung over me all morning like the Sword of Damocles. I calmed down after an hour of hearing nothing. Once I got past my nervousness, I was actually incredibly productive. I got two days worth of work done in about two hours. I began to wonder if this was all some strange psychological ploy by Munroe to get me to be a better worker. Is it some new managerial strategy? Is he going to do this to all the employees? Am I going to start noticing all the women of the office nipping out, crossing their legs very self-consciously? It was right around noon when I saw Munroe exit his office and the panic suddenly gripped me again. I hunched down in my seat, hiding behind the walls of my cubicle. Maybe he wouldn't notice. Maybe he would forget-- "Come on, we're taking the rest of the day off," he said to me. Munroe's car was very nice. All leather interior, slick, European design. It smelled incredibly good. I didn't know a thing about cars, but I could tell this one must have cost a pretty penny. I watched him cautiously as he slid into the drivers seat next to me, put his keys in the ignition and started the car. He turned around to look behind us as we backed out of his parking spot. Then he put the car in Drive and drove us to the exit of the parking lot, turning left onto Archero Road. My panic quickly subsided once we started driving. I don't know what it was, the comfortableness of the car, the lulling white noise of the road, Munroe's quiet confidence, something just made me relax. As we drove through the city, I waited for Munroe to speak first. But he didn't. We sat there in silence, weaving through traffic, getting on the expressway, off the expressway, turning all sorts of directions. After 45 minutes, I was completely disoriented, and a little bored. My curiosity got the better of me. "So where are we going?" I asked. "To get you some new clothes," he said gently. I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing one of my favorite skirts. "What's wrong with these clothes?" I asked. Munroe, just looked at me, then patted me on the leg. "Nothing, they're just not right for the occasion." "But I did what you said, I wore what you said." "You did fine. I'm just going to buy you some new clothes." We pulled into the parking lot of a mall I had never seen before and parked. Munroe got out first and walked around to open my door for me. My nervousness briefly returned, but once we got into the clothing store, things seemed to shift. It was like we were on a date. Or like my husband was taking me shopping for my birthday or something. I gave him my dress size and entered a dressing room. He brought me all sorts of different types of dresses, then waited in the dressing room area, having me come out and model each one for him. It became sort of fun after a while, once I stopped thinking about how I was naked under the dresses and basically putting on a show for my boss. We were definitely drawing the attention of the female employee who was attending the dressing room area. She kept eyeing my wedding ring, then Munroe's lack of a wedding ring, raising her eyebrow at me. She even winked at me once, as if to say she approved, I guess. "Pick one out that you like," Munroe said. A lot of them weren't my style at all. Much too low cut, or the skirts too mini. A lot of halter-top mini-dresses. Some were so short that they barely covered my butt. If I moved the wrong way or bent over, they would ride up, exposing my labia to anyone watching. I was able to find one dress I liked though, and after about an hour I stepped out of my dressing room and handed the dress to him. "I like this one," I said, looking at the price tag. It was much more than I'd usually pay for a dress. Munroe took the dress from me and turned to the employee. "We'll take this dress and these three," he said, picking up three dresses that I had discarded as too slutty for my tastes. The employee took the dresses and walked over to the counter. "Hey!" I said to Munroe. "I said you pick one dress that you like. I didn't say that was the only dress I was going to buy you." He paid for the dresses and we left the store. We spent another hour shopping, he took me to a fancy salon and had my hair done. Then he took me to Sephora and got me a makeover. Thick, black eyeliner. Dark, smoky eye lids. Lots of mascara. He also bought me hundreds of dollars of new makeup. We'd just finished at Sephora and we were standing out in the mall, when he took out one of the skimpier dresses and handed it to me. "Go in the bathroom right there and put this dress on. Then meet me over there in that restaurant," he said, pointing to some nameless chain restaurant located not far from us. "I'm hungry." Luckily there was nobody else in the bathroom. I stepped into one of the stalls and quickly slid my clothes off, the clothes I'd worn to work that morning. I pulled on the dress that Munroe had given me, making sure not to mess up my new hairdo, then bundled up my clothes. Stepping out of the stall, I looked in the mirror. It was one of those halter-top mini-dresses. It fit very tightly, hugging all my curves. Anyone looking at me would have no illusions that I was wearing a bra. The thick eyeliner, the new hair, the short dress. I looked like a slut. I walked nervously into the restaurant. It was after lunch, so it was pretty empty, but there were probably six or seven employees, all men. And all their eyes were immediately on me, on my body. I felt them all undressing me with their eyes, imagining what I was like in bed... "How many?" the host asked me, though he was looking directly down at my breasts. "I'm meeting someone," I said. I spotted Munroe on the backside of the restaurant and quickly walked over there, plopping down in the relative safety of the booth. As I sat, my dress rode up, exposing my ass, my vagina. I unsuccessfully attempted to pull the bottom down, but it just wouldn't cover everything. I resigned to crossing my legs and hoping no one noticed. I looked up at Monroe. He was smiling so broad it looked as if he was about to start laughing. "I ordered us some shots, have one," he said, motioning to the table. I picked up the shot glass in front of me, filled with a light brown liquid, and quickly slammed it. Whiskey. "I can't believe you're having me wear this," I said. "Why not? That's what every man wants you to wear. It's a man's fantasy outfit." "Not Dean. Dean doesn't like it when I wear stuff like this." Munroe laughed loudly. "Yeah, right. You don't know your man very well," he slid the shot sitting in front of him over to me. "Here, you can have this one, I'll order another." I picked it up and quickly slammed it too. The alcohol calmed me down quite a bit. We ordered food. I had a couple glasses of wine, got a little drunk. We ate, we talked. It was like a first date or something. He was actually quite a sympathetic listener. We exchanged lots of small talk and questions about each other's backgrounds. I even reciprocated on the questions. When we got back into Munroe's car, it was 5 pm and I was drunk. "Are you going to take me home now?" I asked. "What time does your husband get home?" he asked. "Well he works the second shift today so not until 8." "Good, I feel like dancing." With that, he leaned over towards me, reaching his hand towards my bare thighs. Instinctively, I recoiled, waiting for him to place his hand on the inside of my thigh, gently caress me there, slowly move up my leg towards my crotch, my panty-less crotch. I looked down. I could see the bottom of my pussy hanging out. It was glistening. I was wet. But instead he reached for the glove box. He opened it and pulled out a small rolled up baggie. Inside the baggie was a long, thin piece of white paper. He opened the baggie and pulled it out and placed it between his lips. He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit it, taking a few deep puffs and exhaling large plumes of smoke. "Ever smoked weed before?" It was a joint. He was smoking a joint. "Of course," I lied. I'd never done a drug before in my life. "I went to college." "Well you're going to smoke now." He handed the joint to me. Nervously, I held it up to my mouth, wrapping my lips around it. He re-lit it for me and I inhaled. The tip glowed red as I drew the air through it. Petty Cash Ch. 03 "Inhale deep," he said. "Keep going. Keep going." I kept breathing in, breathing in, until I thought I had no more room in my lungs. "Good, now hold it," he said, grabbing the joint from my lips. "Hold it as long as you can." I sat there for what felt like hours, holding that smoke in my lungs. Finally I couldn't hold it anymore, and I exhaled, coughing, hacking, but almost no smoke came out when I did. I laid back in the car seat. Melted back down into the chair. Slid down. Comfortable. Calm. We passed the joint back and forth a few more times before finishing it and driving away. It was a parking lot, I think. We pulled into a parking lot? Where are we? "Where I are we," I mumbled. "The club," Munroe said. "The club? What club?" "Dance club." He reached into the glove box again and pulled out a little jar of something. Salve or cream or something. Unscrewed the top, got a big dab on his finger. The bottom of my dress had ridden completely up. My legs were spread. My bare pussy was out in the open for anyone to see. He lowered his finger. Down to my clitoris. Began rubbing. Rubbing in the cream. Rubbing. "What's that?" I mumbled. "This is going to make you feel good," he said, continuing to rub the cream into my clitoris. Helping me out of the car. Helping me walk across the parking lot. I could feel the tingling. My clitoris tingling already. Hot and cold. Pins and needles. It was bright outside. Daytime. But inside it was dark. Loud music. Colored lights flashing everywhere. Entering the club. Leading me to booth on the side. People were dancing everywhere. Dancing wildly. Strangely. We were the only white people in the place. Everyone else was black. African American. To the booth. Sitting down, sliding in. Munroe slid in next to me. His hand slid between my thighs, pushing the bottom of my skirt up. He found my clitoris and started to rub it again. It was so alive. My clitoris was so alive. It felt like all the blood in my entire body was in my clitoris. People were gathering around us. Looking at me. "What are you going to do to me?" I mumbled to him. "You are soaking wet right now. You're so horny." "What are you going to do to me?" I mumbled again. "I'm going to make you feel better than you ever have before," he said, rubbing even faster on my clitoris. Pushing me towards an orgasm. People watching him rub my clit. I wanted it. I wanted to cum. I needed it. Rubbing me just right. Rocking my hips to meet his finger. Staring back at all the big black men watching me, looking at my pussy gaping, leaking my juices all over the seat. I needed to cum so bad. One of the black man reached his hand out to me. "Go out there and dance," Munroe said. I was in such a fog. A haze. On the dance floor. There is a man behind me. Dancing. Grinding, Pushing against me. Tall. Strong arms wrapped around me. On my breasts. Another man in front of me. Faceless. Grinding me, hands on me. Big hands. Strong. Black. Hands between my thighs. Rubbing my clitoris. I was so horny. So alive. I felt electricity pulsing from my vagina. Encompassing me, everything. Yearning to explode. Dance for hours between these two men. Imagining them both fucking me right there on the dance floor. Their cocks out. Cocks inside me. For hours. Everyone watching. I wanted it. But the next thing I knew I was sitting in the back of the room on a chair, and Munroe was whispering in my ear. "Spread your legs." I spread my legs. He pulled up the bottom of my skirt, exposing my pussy. Ten, twelve men gathered around. My pussy out for all of them to see. Munroe lowered my shoulder straps, exposing my breasts to the eyes of these men gathered around me. He reached down and began rubbing my clitoris again. I still hadn't cum. I needed it so bad. He was sitting next to me. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders pulling him close to me. I suddenly wondered if what they said about black men was true. Would all these men have huge penises? I wanted to see. In my mind they were naked. Munroe kept rubbing my clit. I was so wet. I was dripping. So wet I was making sloshing noised. A puddle was forming, running off the chair, forming another puddle on the ground. I looked at Munroe. He looked back at me, a devilish grin on his face. I couldn't believe he was doing this to me. Exposing my breasts and pussy to 12 anonymous men. Rubbing my clit in front of them. He was going to make me cum in public in front of all these strange men. Then he was going to make me fuck each and every one of them. I was so excited. So alive. I felt better than I ever had before. Suddenly there was a bright light in my face and someone was yelling, "Get out of here now or I'm going to call the cops!" and I was up on my feet, being pulled by Munroe, running toward the door, outside, to the car, in the car, started, speeding away. And the next thing I knew, Munroe was leading me into my bedroom. My home, my bedroom. "Hey, what's going on?" I said through my haze. He pulled off my dress and shoes and plopped me naked down on my bed. He went to the closet, then quickly returned, holding some of Dean's ties. He tied one of the ties around my left hand and then raised it above my head, tying it to the headboard. "What's going on?" I mumbled again. "I'm going to fuck you," he said while tying my right hand to the headboard. Then he tied both my legs to the footboard. "But first I'm going to shave your pussy. I can't believe you don't already." He disappeared into the bathroom. I listened as he rooted around, opening the medicine cabinet, drawers, etc. He returned with a towel, shaving cream, a razor and a bowl of hot water. I watched through my daze as he placed the towel under my butt and proceeded to shave my pussy completely clean, removing every last follicle of hair. As he finished, I looked over at the clock. It was 7pm already. "You better hurry, my husband is going to be home at 8." He took all the shaving supplied back into the bathroom and I listened to him dump the water out in the toilet. Then there was a bunch of popping noises, followed by some plops as something was dropped into the water. When he returned to the room, he had stripped off his clothes. It was the first time I'd seen him naked. He was a little older, but he was in great shape. Broad, strong shoulders. A well-defined chest. Muscular arms and six-pack abs. He walked toward me, his cock bobbing slightly as he did. It was already hard. I couldn't stop staring at it. It was noticeably bigger than Dean's. Longer and thicker. His public hair was cropped short, and his huge balls hung heavily below. He had a condom in his hand and I watched as he slowly rolled it down the length of his cock. The bed shifted, lowering, as he climbed on. He positioned himself between my legs, leaning forward over me. With one hand he grabbed the base of his cock, using it to aim the tip of his penis at the entrance to my pussy. He looked up at me. Looking me directly in the eye. We held eye contact. Then he leaned forward, sliding his cock into my vagina. Only the second man ever to do so. He was indeed thick, but it hurt only briefly. I was aroused and I felt my juices running down the crack of my ass. My breathing was immediately ragged, hard to catch. He didn't push in all the way, but stopped, letting me grow accustomed to his size. I felt myself stretch to accommodate him, which was a strange emotion. Pleasurable, but with a tinge of guilt. I'd never felt it before. Not with Dean. But I liked the way it felt. Munroe took his time. It took him almost twenty minutes to get all the way inside me. Then he drew it out again and started a slow, steady rhythm. Oh god he was so thick. It felt so good. "You want this, don't you?" he said, still looking deep into my eyes. I couldn't answer, couldn't think about that right now. After about 20 minutes of slow fucking, Munroe picked up his pace, pushing me closer and closer to an orgasm. But each time I was almost there, he would stop thrusting until I would come down, then start back up again, then when I was getting close again, he'd stop. After the third time, I was going crazy with lust. "What are you doing?" I asked. I looked over at the clock. It was almost 7:50 "Fucking you." "Why won't you make me cum?" "You want that, don't you?" Munroe asked with an smirk. "Yes." "Tell me." "I want you to make me cum." He kept thrusting in me. Here it comes, I thought. Then suddenly he stopped. "No." He pulled out of me. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Your husband should be home any minute, I'm going to let him give you an orgasm." With that he climbed off the bed and retreated into the bathroom, leaving me in an overwhelming state of frustration. As he walked through the bathroom door, I saw him pull the condom off and then heard as he dropped it in the toilet. "Flush that," I said, but he didn't respond. A moment later, he was dressed and back in the bedroom. He untied one of my hands. The clock said 8:00pm. Dean would be home any minute. I quickly started untying my other hand and my feet as Munroe got his things around and walked out of the bedroom. I heard him descend the staircase and exit through the front door. I finally got myself untied just as Dean got home. "Sarah?" he yelled from out in the hall. "I'm here." He pushed the door open and saw me laying naked on the bed. "Where's your car, and....you're naked?" he asked, confused but also excited. "Some of the girls from work went out for a drink after work. I had a bit too much to drink, so they drove me home." "You shaved your pubic hair!" he said. I looked down. "Yeah. For you, baby. I've been wanting you all day, come here and make love to me." Dean had his clothes off in a flash and was on the bed. He climbed on top of me and started kissing me. He was rocking his hips slightly, but hadn't put himself inside yet. He kept rocking his hips and kissing me, rocking, rocking. It was driving me crazy! Put it in me already, I'm so horny I'm going to explode! I thought. But he just kept rocking his hips. After a moment, something dawned on me. "Honey, are you in me?" I asked gently. "Yeah. You are right, you were turned on! You are so wet!" Oh my God. I couldn't feel him. Munroe's cock had stretched my vagina so much that I couldn't feel my husband's penis inside of me. Oh shit. Dean was going to notice. He had to notice... "Hey." Dean said. "What are the ties for? Do you want me to tie you up?" I looked up, seeing the ties. I'd forgotten to remove them. "No, I'm going to tie you up," I said, pushing him off me. "Sweet!" he said. He rolled over on his back and I tied both of his hands up to the headboard, then both of his legs to the footboard. Then I had an idea. I walked over to the closet and grabbed another tie. "What are you doing?" Dean asked. "I'm going to blindfold you!" I teased. "Oh, kinky!" I walked over and lifted his head up, securing the tie in place so that I was sure he couldn't see. I began jacking off my husband. About 5 minutes later he groaned, arching his back. Several drops of cum dribbled out the top of his cock and ran down my hand. After he was finished, I climbed off him and made my way to the bathroom to wash up. Dean was probably asleep before I'd even turned the water on, which was fine with me, because I was still horny as hell and was going to have to go online to one of my story sites to relieve myself. It was after I had washed my hands that I turned and saw Munroe's condom in the toilet. Good thing Dean hadn't gone in the bathroom. Then I saw something in the bowl beneath the condom. Several somethings, actually. Dozens of small, white somethings, slowly dissolving in the water. "Oh my God." I said, I ran over to the medicine cabinet and opened it. My birth control. Munroe had dumped my birth control in the toilet. All three months worth that Dean had swiped from work. I walked back over to the toilet, thinking perhaps I could pull them out, salvage them. But they were almost completely dissolved. I flushed the toilet.