The Man in Charge

(This story is the property of its author, H. K. Smythe. Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited.)

The Man in Charge

Albert Maxwell Wilson, Jr.

Growing up my dad was always in charge of things. That included what we had for breakfast, what clothes we wore, everything. My mother was a bit on the homely side, so she went along with everything he said. He was the king of his castle and my brother and sister and I quickly learned that we couldn't do anything without his approval. It was almost a surprise when he allowed me to borrow the family car on weekends. If I ever said anything that could be interpreted as disrespectful, I had to end up cancelling the date, or walking. It was two miles to the nearest business, and our small town had no public transportation or taxis. This was before ride sharing, but we probably wouldn't have had that either.

I did make good grades in high school. After graduation, I was able to live at home and go to the community college thirty miles away. By that time, my mother was working as a departmental secretary at the community college so we were able to car pool. It didn't help my social life much as I had to meet my mother at five pm sharp for the ride home. If we weren't both home by five-thirty, there would be hell to pay.

My father had an associate's degree in accounting which qualified him to do bookkeeping for several of the small businesses in town. He was willing to contribute to our earning associate's degrees, but since a two-year degree was good enough for him, he saw no reason to contribute to our 'higher education.'

Since my comm college grades were good, I was able to get a tuition scholarship to a state college that was only sixty miles away. I found a ride there with two of my buddies from high school. They let me tag along with just paying gas money. I found a part-time job between classes and that allowed me to earn the gas money and money for books and fees not covered by the scholarship. My younger brother and sister were now carpooling with my mom to the comm college.

My boss at the part-time job offered me a raise and more hours and I accepted that. He really trusted me and advanced me the money to purchase a car. For some reason, this really pissed my father off. He refused to add me to his auto insurance, so I had to pay for a separate policy. My mother stood up to him for once, so that I could still have a bed and breakfast at home. I was now staying at school or work until eight or nine in the evening so I had to purchase lunch and supper at the student union.

It took me three years to get my accounting degree, but it was worth the extra year to have a modest social life. It also pissed my father off when I had overnight dates with the opposite sex, but my mother convinced him that 'boys will be boys.' Who knows what shit my sister would have to bear if she ever had an overnight date. With my fresh accounting degree and good grades, I was able to get a job with an accounting firm in a nearby city. I rented an apartment and finally got away from my father's reluctant largesse. I continued going home for visits, usually once a month. That left me three weekends a month for dating, so I was able to get laid once in a while. I didn't date much during the week because I was studying for the CPA exams. I was sure to study three or four nights a week and so managed to pass the exams by the time I had my three years of experience in. I found a new job with a regional buying club as an assistant controller. The only travel I did now was to resolve audit problems at stores located in other cities.

Now I was able to become a seven nights a week pussy hound, and I became a fixture at night clubs and parties. That all stopped when I met Lila. She wasn't the prettiest girl around but she had a good figure, and became quite sexy once I broke her in. It wasn't so much that I was the sex king of city night life, but I learned to control my ejaculations, and if it took my partner fifteen or twenty minutes to have an orgasm, I could last that long or even longer. Lila told me that I took her 'orgasm cherry;' she had never cum PIV before.

Following my father's model, I established that I was the man in charge. Since Lila had never been 'pussy hound bait' and also had never experienced multiple orgasms with anyone else, she was more than willing to go along. I enjoyed being with her, as she had a keen sense of humor and a very sweet personality. She was a bit shy, but my friends, both male and female, all seemed to like her. Everything was copacetic and when I asked her to marry me, she was very excited and showered me with kisses and 'I love you's. We moved into a two-bedroom apartment. Two years later we bought a starter home, and a year later, we purchased a small lake cabin.

Delilah Ann Morganstern

I grew up in a scientific family. My parents seemed to spend a lot more attention on my elder brother, but as there were only two children, I wasn't totally neglected. My father was happy when I majored in Chemistry, and after graduation from college, I got a job as an assistant scientist in a small laboratory doing mostly testing for a large corporation.

I dated casually, not getting serious with anyone until I met Max. I had learned that guys expected sex no later than the second date, and so on our second date, after some kissing and a little petting and bra popping, Max made up his sofa into his bed. He wasn't the largest guy I had been with but he kept on stroking me as my arousal increased. It seemed that no other guy could last long enough for me to get all the way to climax. It was the best orgasm of my young life when it finally happened.

Even more amazing was that he still hadn't ejaculated. He turned me over into doggy style and I came again as he unloaded his baby juice into my love canal. Of course, I came back for more. Many times.

I became very familiar with his studio apartment. We usually would have a drink and make out a little while, and then I would help him pull out his sofa bed. I don't know when it became love, instead of just lust, but several months of fucking on his sofa bed had prepared me for his proposal. I was amazed at myself by how happy it made me.

We had a small wedding at a non-denominational church and started married life in a real two-bedroom apartment with a real bed. That was even better that the sofa bed, which we kept as a sofa and bed for guests. We turned our second bedroom into a study with separate desks. We settled into a routine of married life, usually making love once on weeknights and multiple times on weekends, at least twice and frequently, thrice.

We occasionally attended Friday or Saturday night parties. Sometimes we would go to a club for drinking and dancing with friends or alone. One Friday night we stopped off after work at the Night Owl lounge, which was between my workplace and our home. It was a bit crowded, and a good-looking guy asked if he could sit at our table while he scoped the scene out.

I can't explain it, but I immediately felt a connection with him. He stepped away to dance with a girl. I guess they didn't hit it off because after one dance, he was back at our table sipping the beer he had left there. We chatted briefly. He introduced himself as Harry, and I introduced ourselves as Max and Lila. It turned out that he was an attorney, working for an insurance company. That didn't seem very interesting, but he was a lively conversationalist with a warm, baritone voice, and I could feel my juices beginning to flow. I was thinking Max was going to get a real ride tonight.

Then Harry asked if it would be all right if he danced with me. This was unusual as I wasn't exactly a stud magnet, but Max nodded his assent, so I took Harry's proffered hand and joined him on the dark, dance floor. The Night Owl didn't have live music but usually had a nice play list. Our first dance was a slow one and he wrapped one arm around me placing his hand on my flank just above my hip and holding my free hand in his warm hand. His hands were very warm and strong enough to press our bodies close enough for my hard nipples to press against his chest and for me to feel his apparently sizeable sex against my leg. I was astounded to realize I was panting, suppressing my desire to moan. I just didn't get it. I had barely met this guy and I was very aroused. As the song ended, he lightly bussed my lips, adding to my excitement. We started back to our table, but another slow song was starting, and he asked, "Can we...?" I nodded 'yes.'

He guided me to the far side of the dance floor where there was a little more space. This time he squeezed me tight with both hands on my buttocks and his lips on my cheek. By the halfway point of the song his tongue was in my mouth and his semi-erect manhood was rubbing against my slit and my clit. My only problem was fear that my wetness would show through my dress. As the song ended, he whispered, "My place is nearby. Shall we...?"

I smiled and led him to the door. I couldn't believe what I was doing. I saw Max looking at me like 'WTF.' I blew him a kiss, and mouthed, 'later.'

I think I was as astounded by my behavior as he was. Harry seemed to think this was the most normal thing in the world. I knew I was walking out the door leaving my husband of five years alone. I had no idea if he would take me back or not, but I knew I was going to have this night, regardless.

Harry had a very nice apartment. As soon as he closed the door, we were making out. We continued making out as we left a trail of clothing on our way to his bedroom. Now nude, I knelt before his bed and began licking the largest cock I had ever seen. I guessed it was an eight-incher. It was too big for me to take the whole thing but I did the best I could sucking what I could get in my mouth.

I guess that was good enough, as he then lifted me to my feet and laid my nude body supine on his bed. He went down on me and quickly proved that he knew what he was doing. He was far better than Max at his craft and soon had me crying out my joy at the ecstasy of my first cunnilingus climax.

At this point, I would have done anything to feel that monster in my soaking vagi and was about to start begging when with immaculate timing, he sat up and began rubbing his manhood across my clitoris and labia. I was already hunching to increase the contact when he began the slide to my nirvana as his organ stretched my pussy as he slowly penetrated me. I had my first orgasm on his second stroke. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and kissed his face, I was trying my best to be totally one with him. Perhaps it was futile, but the trying felt wonderful. I lost count of how many orgasms I had, but finally after around twenty minutes, he rolled me over into the doggy position for more climactic delights.

After my cumming a dozen or so more times, he pulled me up into the kneeling prison guard and began relentlessly banging me into oblivion. I was almost relieved when he ejaculated into my waiting cunt, as I was reaching the point where I wouldn't have the energy for another orgasm. I don't think I had ever had as many orgasms in a week as I had had in the last hour or so.

I collapsed prone on the bed. I was dimly aware of him sweetly kissing my cheek and neck and softly rubbing my back and hips. I had never felt this fantastic in my entire life. I couldn't believe what had happened to me, but I knew in my heart of hearts that I would want this again and again.

He whispered in my ear, "That was completely fabulous. Let's get some sleep and do it again."

I said, "Sounds like a plan."

I texted Max, "I'm okay. See you later." I thought for a moment about whether I should send it or not. I decided 'what the hell,' he might be worried about me. It wouldn't hurt even if he was already preparing divorce papers.

I didn't get a reply, nor did I expect one. Even if he accepted my outrageous behavior, there was no reason for him to reply.

Harry and I drifted off to sleep but woke up in the early morning hours and went after each other like wild animals. I think it might have been even better than our first episode. We slept again and our next episode took place with it already light outside. I don't think it was quite as good as our first two rounds, but it was good enough for him to fix me toast and coffee, and exchange phone numbers, before asking me if I thought it was time to go home. I said it was fine as long as we did it again. He said he would call me.

It was between eight and nine when I did my walk of shame across the yard and up the steps to our front door. When I entered, Max was drinking coffee at the breakfast table, watching the morning news. He asked, "Did you have a good time?"

I answered, "Yes, I'm sorry, Max, for walking out on you like that."

He replied, "Don't worry about it! Do you want some coffee?"

I inquired, "Yes, please. Are we okay, Max?"

He responded noncommittally, "As good as can be expected."

I drank some coffee, and told him, "I need to shower and change."

Again, he gave a neutral reply, "Be my guest!"

When I had my shower and changed my clothes and came down. He was already gone. I was a little concerned by his reaction, but as long as Harry called, I wouldn't be all that worried.

Max

What the fuck! Things were going so well. I thought I was on track to becoming a family man. We stop at the fucking Night Owl Lounge for an after work week drink on Friday night, and she goes home with a goddamn pussy hound!

I was going to kick the bitch to the side of the road as quick as I could. I didn't know exactly how I was going to handle this, but I knew I was going to fix two people good! I would have to keep my cool and play nicety nice until I had a plan in place, but she would rue the day she decided to leave me sitting alone in the goddamn Night Owl Lounge!

It was almost nine when the slut returned. She seemed pretty satisfied with herself. Now I hated her at least as much as I had previously loved her. I tried to be civil but neutral in our interactions. When she went upstairs to shower and change. I made sure I was on my way to my golf game. I could have a drink in the clubhouse to kill the time before our tee off. It would also calm my nerves. I didn't want to be tight when I hit my driver.,

I had a good golf game. My one decision was that if she wanted to have makeup sex, I would go for her. I hated her for what she had done, but I still considered her to be sexy piece. I wouldn't mind plowing that ground again as long as I didn't have to play kissy face with her. That night she put on her sexiest negligee sans panties and I knew I would get some.

Actually, it was pretty good. I don't know if it was the effect of her night of sin, or if she was trying to make things up for me, but she was unusually passionate and had a couple of more orgasms than was usual for us. The increased passion carried over to our Sunday night tete-a-tete. I still didn't have a plan but I knew I was going to have to get her out of the house. I would have to see an attorney since we had real estate so Monday morning I got an appointment for Tuesday with a reputedly good divorce lawyer. Maybe he would have an idea of how I could burn the bitch and her boyfriend.

Lila

I was so happy when Harry called me Monday morning at work. I asked, "What's up, Harry?"

He replied, "I am, whenever I think of you!"

I said, "That's sweet. Did you have something in mind?"

He admitted, "I don't have any plans for the weekend."

I explained, "We have a cabin. It's by a lake with hiking trails. We could drive up Friday night and stay over to Sunday, if you're interested."

He replied, "I'm interested. What do I need to bring?"

I continued, "The main thing is yourself. Also bring some good shoes. It's probably too late to do any skinny dipping in the lake, so just plan on canoeing and hiking. I don't fish, but you can if you want. Shall I pencil you in?"

He responded, "Only if you're bringing a couple of sexy negligees."

I answered, "Count on it. I'm already damp thinking about it."

He suggested, "Sounds like we're on, then."

I told him, "Text me when you're outside my house. I don't expect Max to be enthused about this, although he seems to have dealt with Friday night okay."

He stated, "Sounds like a plan. See you at seven. Bye for now!"

I replied, "Bye for now!"

That night I took the bull by the horns and told Max that Harry and I were planning on using the cabin that weekend. I was surprised that he was only mildly displeased and approved Harry and I using it without a fight.

Max

I couldn't believe the sheer effrontery of the bitch. She actually wanted to use our cabin for a tryst with her lover. It gave me an idea.

I told her, "I'm not excited about this, but it's your cabin, too. If you insist, I won't fight you. If you get cold you know the propane heater is in the closet. Be sure to take some matches!"

It was already October and I was thinking. I hope her boyfriend isn't any smarter than the stupid bitch. With any luck, they'll used the heater and forget to vent a window. That will kill both birds with one stone. No fuss, no muss. Best of all, no attorneys, and I will inherit her interest in all our joint property. It took an effort for me to not jump up and down in glee. Even if they didn't use the heater this weekend, that would be even better. It would be evidence that I had meekly accepted the situation with her lover and wouldn't do anything to upset the love train.

Lila

Harry and I had a great weekend. We took our clothes off Friday when we arrived at the cabin and didn't wear a stitch until it was time to pack up and leave Sunday afternoon. We hiked nude, we canoed nude, and best of all we fucked nude, morning, noon, and night. It was wonderful weather and we fucked in the canoe, on the hiking trail, and even on the bed. It was the most fantastic weekend of my life, even better than my honeymoon with Max. I would always be grateful to Max, after all he was responsible for my first PIV orgasm, but he just couldn't do me like Harry could. I wasn't sure if I was in love with Harry or not but there was no doubt I was in love with his wonderful cock.

The next week we had a Wednesday night booty call and finalized our plans for another weekend at the cabin.

Max

It was getting harder to maintain a neutral face with the skanky slut. She came back from the weekend with a smirky smile. She couldn't contain her happiness with her cheating on me. Even worse was her going out for a booty call Wednesday night. I didn't mind not having a turn, but I hated the idea of her giving it to her bastard boyfriend. She did inform me that she and her lover would be using the cabin again this weekend. The weather was turning cooler this weekend. With any luck, they'd rev up the gas heater and end it all. It was hard but I knew I just had to be patient a little longer. If not this weekend, maybe the next.

Lila

When we got to the cabin, it was a replay of last weekend. We took our clothes off and fucked our brains out. Harry asked if I was feeling a little cool. And I told him I was. We fired up the propane heater and soon the cabin was toasty warm. We ate supper and I turned it off, thinking we didn't want to sweat a lot during out after dinner screwing time. Again, Harry was just super. I got up and turned the heater on low and we cuddled and went to sleep.

Max

When Lila didn't return Sunday night and didn't answer her cell phone Monday morning, I called the local Sheriff and explained that my wife was using our cabin for a rendezvous with her lover and hadn't returned when expected. She also wasn't answering her cellular.

A couple of hours later, a deputy called me and asked if I was sitting down. Then he told me the bad news. I stifled a cry of joy, and said, "Oh, God, No!" I mumbled, "Ohmigod!" a couple of times. I then composed myself, and asked, "How did it happen, sir?"

He replied, "It was the propane heater we think. Either carbon dioxide suffocation, or carbon monoxide poisoning, or a combination of both. The coroner's report will likely be more decisive."

I said, "Oh, damn! Oh, damn! I told her to be careful about venting that damn thing."

He continued, "There's nothing can be done about it now. When do you think you can come and here and identify your wife's body? Would you be able to identify Mr. Armstrong?"

I said, "I guess I can come this afternoon. My wife and I weren't as close as we once were, but I still loved her. We were still intimate when she wasn't with her lover. I only knew her boyfriend as Harry, but I could still identify him."

The deputy responded, "His driver's license says Harrison Jerome Armstrong. We haven't been able to contact his next of kin."

I told him, "I'll see how I'm doing this afternoon. Maybe I can get a friend to drive me down there. Where would I go?"

He explained that the coroner's office was just off the square.

I ended up driving myself down there. I didn't want to have to keep up the pretense of being grief-stricken for the whole hour long drive.

The coroner's assistant took me into the cold room and I identified Lila's body. She lay there with a peaceful countenance. The assistant said, "She felt no pain."

I almost collapsed, not in grief, but remorse. What had I done. So, she fucked around. Should she die for that. I had taken two lives because they had trifled with my love. I realized I would have to deal with what I had done. I managed a few tears as the assistant helped me back to my car. I felt sick. I wasn't feeling the glee at the outcome that I thought I would. I had loved her, and had enjoyed sex with her, even after she hooked up with Harry. I would just have to get over it, no matter how long it took. I don't remember a whole lot about the drive back or the funeral or that next week, which was the hardest of my life, more from my guilt than my grief.

I do remember my father patting me on the back, and murmuring, "Son, son, son." That was a great outpouring of emotion for him.

I was a little sad that I would never see her again even though she was a cheating skank. Life goes on and I was sure that both my guilt and my longing would recede into the background of my life, and that I would love again.