Hot Lights Hot Wife Ch. 003

Author's Note: I appreciate critical reviews--both positive and negative--that relate to the specifics of the story. It's how we learn and grow. However, I'll add this caveat: Let's agree on something--I write what I like, and you read what you like. That way, we're both good. Yeah?

Trigger Warnings: Blackmail, Reluctance, Asian Wife, Hot Wife, Young Wife/Older Man, Coercion, Conflicted, Sharing, WMAF

Obligatory Disclaimer: All characters in a sexual situation are over the age of 18.

©2025 Verisimilinude

Late Night Lament

The house was dark when Vanessa pulled into the driveway, her car's headlights briefly bounced off the familiar white brick exterior before she cut them off. She coasted the rest of the way and shut the engine off as well. Gripping the steering wheel, she bumped her head against it several times as she sat there, trying to hold back the tears.

What had she done and more importantly how was she going to get herself out of this mess? She couldn't possibly let it continue. But if she didn't Dave threatened to expose her slip-up. If she came clean, maybe Marc would forgive her, but would he still want her? 'Fuck how did my life get so tangled?' she lamented internally.

It was supposed to be a fun shoot, something different, the end result a special surprise for Marc. Now it haunted her, a secret she had to keep. Vanessa couldn't make sense of it--she was the reserved one, never acting on impulse. This raw, mindless arousal wasn't like her. Yes, she had a strong sex drive but how had she crossed the line from devoted wife to... this? Someone who could betray her vows so easily--to a... cock sucking slut! Dave's words taunted her even now.

Something was seriously off about the whole situation. She could think clearly now, her mind uncluttered, but her body still buzzed with frenetic energy. No matter how much she had rinsed her mouth, she could still taste his cum--bleachy but with stronger notes of something fruity. She thought she hated it, she didn't even let Marc cum in her mouth. Why had she let Dave? What was this power he had over her, what had compelled her to give in?

She didn't like that he'd given her no choice but to swallow it. 'You weren't hating it when he was choking you with his cock,' her mind whispered to her. Her mouth watered without conscious thought, he'd filled her mouth with it, so much she couldn't even keep up with swallowing it down.

The way he had directed her head, using it for his pleasure, stuffing her with that hard, hot shaft. The way the crown of his cock rubbed against the roof of her mouth, how it had choked her, trying to gain entrance to her throat. "Mmm," she murmured and then said out loud, "Damn it, why did it have to feel so good?"

Her phone broke her concentration, its flashing light showing missed texts. Guilt settled in her stomach again, washing away the remnant lust. She checked the phone and saw Marc's texts. Fuck.

Marc>(6:34 PM): Headed home, see you soon.<

Marc>(8:31 PM): Babe? You okay?<

Marc>(12:30 AM): Guess you're really busy. Wake me when you get home.<

Vanessa exhaled a slow breath. She should have checked her phone. Should have at least sent a quick message. But how could she have explained it in the moment? "Hey, I'm at a photoshoot with a guy I just met, can't talk right now. He's currently stuffing my mouth with his large cock." 'And I hate myself for it, but I liked it,' added the dark whispers.

Wiping tears from her cheek, Vanessa checked her appearance before stepping out of the car. She locked it manually, not wanting to alert Marc if he was awake and crept inside the house as quietly as she could. The faint glow from the living room TV flickered, but the house was still.

Vanessa instinctively smiled when she saw him. Marc had fallen asleep on the couch again, controller loose in his hand, the game's menu screen looping in front of him. Vanessa felt her heart crushing as it squeezed tightly in her chest. This was their life. Comfortable. Predictable. Safe. And for so long, it had been enough.

As miserable as she felt right now, she knew something had awakened in her tonight. Guilt and shame rested right next to the thrill of doing something she shouldn't have. Sure she'd fantasized some when Marc started having his troubles remaining erect, but she'd never meant to go any further. But now it had and she had to find a path forward. The way Dave looked at her, told her how hot she was, the photos evidence of how sexy she felt, it was electric--it was intoxicating. And it scared the living shit out of her.

Vanessa reached for the throw blanket draped over the couch and lovingly laid it over him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Marc stirred but didn't wake.

'Let him dream of a pure wife for now,' she thought, the moment bittersweet. Her fingers traced the edge of his jaw, memorizing the curve she still loved so dearly. 'Somehow, I'll fix this. I just hope you'll forgive me if you ever find out.' But not tonight. Tonight demanded hot water and the forgetfulness of oblivion--the kind only sleep would provide.

The Weekend After

Marc woke to the smell of coffee and the familiar weight of Vanessa curled up beside him on the sofa. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he blinked against the morning light filtering through the living room curtains. "Morning," he murmured with a smile. "What's this?" he asked, gesturing toward the mug of coffee she offered.

Vanessa smiled back at him. "Me spoiling you," she said, tugging at his T-shirt and wiping the corner of his mouth. "You had a little drool there. Were you having naughty dreams about me?" she teased, chuckling as she snuggled into his chest.

Marc could smell the scent of shampoo in her dark shoulder length hair, he smiled, rubbing lazily up and down her back. "Why am I on the couch?"

She nuzzled closer, her petite and supple form molding to Marc's body, basking in the familiar warmth of him. It was easy, slipping back into their routine, how comfortable it felt. "I don't know. I found you passed out when I got home."

The comfortable silence fractured when Marc's hand stilled on her back. She could feel his gaze on her before he spoke, "So... where were you last night? I tried texting?"

Vanessa's breath caught in her throat. Just like that, the dream of comfort was shattered by her nightmare. She pressed her head into his shoulder, buying seconds before answering. The lie came smoothly--rehearsed in the bathroom mirror this morning, polished by guilt. "I'm so sorry. Work crisis. I completely lost track of time."

Marc tilted her chin up. His eyes--still trusting, damn him--searched hers for a beat too long before he nodded. "I was worried," he said, his lips brushing against hers. "Let me know next time, okay?"

Vanessa kissed him back and gave him a practiced smile, "Of course. Go shower," she said, already sliding from the sofa. "I'll make your favorite omelet." She hoped the sounds of cooking would drown out the voice in her head shouting: LIAR.

She winced at the voice, lying didn't come naturally to her, but what choice did she have. 'Sorry honey, I was busy letting a strange cock cum in my mouth and I don't know why I let it happen. You forgive me right?' What the fuck was she going to do? She felt utterly powerless in this new situation.

With rest and a clearer mind, she felt better about things. "Better" wasn't quite right; she still felt awful about what had happened. But she was more prepared now--she just needed time to think and plan a way to get out from under this--find a way forward.

She stood near the stovetop, her hands set about making his omelet and frying some bacon. Vanessa did her best to channel her guilt into fixing Marc a nice breakfast, some gesture to make amends.

Just when she thought she'd achieved control of her thoughts, they burst free again. Last night's events replayed in her head, on a loop she couldn't escape, each frame sharper and more vivid than the last. Dave's smirk, the taste of him on her tongue, the way he had filled her mouth with his cock--it all seemed surreal--like a depraved nightmare she couldn't wake from. No matter how tightly she clenched her fists, the reel kept playing, every shameful detail etched in perfect, punishing clarity.

Yet, in the harsh light of day, there was no denying the way her body had responded, the way she'd craved his domination, his masculinity--even as her imprisoned mind warned her not to.

The shower's sudden silence made her spine straighten. Marc would be down soon--expecting his usual morning, his usual wife. She needed to appear normal, unshakable. The thought of him made her chest tighten. The man who trusted her completely. How had she been so heartless, betraying him like that? How could she have let Dave manipulate her into such an act, something she rarely let Marc do?

The guilt gnawed at her, but beneath it, there was something else, the memory of it clung to her like sweat. That was the worst part; beneath the self-loathing was a twisted thrill she couldn't ignore. It made her feel sick to contemplate, but it was there, lurking in the shadows of her conscience.

She finished the omelet and plated it alongside the bacon and toast, her movements may have seemed precise but her mind was laboring at solutions. She poured a glass of orange juice, the kind without pulp, the way Marc liked it. As she set the table, she told herself to remain cool and collected. Everything's fine. Just another morning.

But how could it be fine? Dave had the video, proof of her infidelity. He'd made it clear he wouldn't hesitate to show it to Marc if she didn't do what he asked.

"Smells amazing," Marc said, appearing in the kitchen entrance, his dark hair still damp from the shower, a lazy smile playing on his lips. Vanessa pushed down the knot of anxiety and smiled back. He kissed her cheek, his warmth comforting against her skin. For a moment, a flicker of hope stirred--maybe she could tell him everything. Maybe he'd understand...

Then she remembered the words she spoke while stroking Dave's cock.

Instead, she murmured, "Thanks," avoiding his gaze as she handed him his orange juice and took her seat across from him. The weight of her secret pressed heavily on her slumped shoulders.

Marc dug into his breakfast, humming softly--oblivious to the storm brewing inside his wife. "Hey, remember when we first moved in? That first breakfast, and you told me you couldn't boil water to save your life?" He chuckled, glancing up at her. "This is amazing boiled water," lifting the fork full of omelet into his mouth.

"Thank you for cooking this morning," Marc said. They often shared domestic chores, it didn't hurt to show her how much he appreciated her.

She looked up at his question, and a genuine smile touched her lips at the fond memory. Everything had felt so exciting back then--the newness of their life together, the little milestones of being newlyweds. She watched him now, memorizing the way his lips curved around his fork, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. How could she have been so reckless? How could she let someone like Dave threaten this?

Vanessa looked down and pushed her food around the plate, her mind raced through her options, each one more terrifying than the last. She could go to the police, but Dave had the video. He'd show them how she'd pleaded for him to finish in her mouth, how she'd moaned for him. They'd never believe it was blackmail.

She could confront Dave, try to negotiate for the video's destruction, but could she trust he wouldn't keep copies? And then there was Marc. She could tell him the truth, beg for his forgiveness. But what if he couldn't look at her the same way again? What if he left her--shattered by her betrayal?

"You okay?" Marc asked, his voice snapping her out of her thoughts. She looked up, startled, then forced a laugh. "Yeah, just preoccupied. Work thing."

"Want to talk about it?" he offered.

"Nah, it's nothing really," she said with a wave of her hand. "Besides, we have more important things to do. Go relax on the sofa--I'll take care of the dishes. Then your wife is going to show you a few moves."

His lips crinkled in a crooked smile, accepting the lie without question, and a stab of guilt pierced her. He trusted her so completely, while she avoided the truth. A painful truth she longed to share--but the fear of what it might cost held her back.

As she cleared the table and rinsed the dishes, Vanessa's mind kept circling back to Dave. Like a whirlpool, the illicit images in her mind kept sucking her into its vortex of dark thoughts. She hated herself for enjoying it, even for a second. But the memory of how her body had trembled as he'd bellowed and made her swallow his cum--it was burned into her brain. She had never felt so degraded, so desired and so conflicted.

"Stop it!" she shouted.

Marc looked at her from the living room, startled. "Stop what? I'm not doing anything."

"Sorry, not you," she swiftly said. "I've got this thing stuck in my head, playing on a loop. An earworm I think they call it," she forced a laugh she hoped he would believe.

She closed her eyes, pushing the thoughts away. She needed a way out of this mess. But every option felt like a trap. Going to the police would ruin her reputation. Telling Marc would destroy their marriage. Negotiating with Dave felt like playing with fire.

And yet, the idea of seeing him again just wouldn't go away.

Another idea came to her. One she almost dismissed out of hand, but... What if Marc gave his blessing? She'd heard of couples who did that. Could she bring it up, and how would he react if she did?

-------------------------

Vanessa stepped quietly into the living room, barefoot, holding a cup of tea, watching her husband from behind the sofa, with amusement. Marc sat hunched forward on the edge of the couch, eyes laser-focused on the screen. His thumbs moved with muscle memory over the controller, gliding through practiced patterns. On screen, his avatar sprinted through an old-school platformer, mid-speedrun.

This isn't what she envisioned when she'd sent him to the living room. She wanted to connect with him, to do something nice, make up for her transgression the previous night. Her smile soured slightly, jealous of the attention he paid to his video games. She flicked away the thought. Stop it, he deserves to enjoy his own hobbies. But why can't he be that animated with her...

Vanessa spoke up, "You know, one day they'll name a wing in a gaming museum after you. Marc Carter: Slayer of Speedruns, Neglector of Wives."

"Awesome," Marc smirked with pride, not even glancing back. Her praise, laced with irony, didn't seem to faze him.

'Clueless, this man of hers,' Vanessa let out a dry laugh, "I'll make sure they display your controller right next to the empty spot on the couch--the spot where your wife used to sit."

He paused the game, looking over his shoulder at her then asked, "What? You going somewhere?"

Vanessa let the silence hang a beat longer, then added with a sprinkle of sarcasm, "I'm saying--your wife wants to play a different game. If you played your cards right, maybe I'd be singing your name."

"Oooh..." Marc said, "You know it's Satur..."

"Uhn-uh!" her raised brow pausing his words, "Tell you what, you like challenges. You keep playing your silly game and I'll try to distract you. If you beat the next level without dying, I'll go read and leave you alone. If I win, then I get what I want."

"You know I can be hyper-focused, I'm a machine," he grinned at her. "Not saying you'll win, but what do you get?"

"Oh really?" Vanessa shot back at him. "You'll have to lose to find out," she teased.

"Not gonna happen, but bring it," Marc smirked at her already starting the new level.

Vanessa gently swept her fingers across the nape of his neck, Marc flinched a little but kept his focus, the competitor in him wouldn't allow a mistake.

She giggled but ramped up her teasing, "My, what a big controller you've got there," she leaned in, her lips brushing his earlobe, "And those talented fingers..." A deliberate pause as her breath hot in his ear, "Shame they're not busy pushing... my buttons."

Marc's grip faltered--the avatar on-screen plummeted, then barely clawed back onto the ledge.

Chuckling to herself, 'Awe, he's trying so hard.' She looked at the screen and sultrily said, "Is that lava you're jumping over?" she asked as she traced her fingers down his arm until she reached inside his shorts. "I know something that would feel hotter. My scorching, moist lips wrapped around..." she teased as her tongue flicked against Marc's ear.

Marc cursed under his breath as he missed a jump and his avatar fell to its doom. He slumped back, tossing his controller onto the sofa. "No fair, you cheated," he laughed, reaching back to grab her.

"All's fair in love and war, baby," she said, deftly dodging away as she moved around the sofa and sat on the coffee table in front of him.

She lowered herself between his knees, nudging his hands out of the way as she laid her head on his thigh. Her fingers traced the hem of his shorts. She pulled it down slowly, her eyes never leaving his. "My turn, Mr. Machine." she smirked at him.

She was in control now, and she intended to make the most of it. His semi-hard dick came into view, and with a coy smile, she asked, "Want a rematch or should I just claim my prize?"

Not waiting for an answer, she gripped him firmly, her thumb brushing over the head, using every technique she knew to get him hard. Marc hissed, his attention divided between looking at his watch and his wife's inviting lips

"What's wrong baby? Are you still having issues?" she said, hiding her dismay in his lack of firmness.

"Er... yeah, I guess..." Marc said, defeat in his voice. "But it's also Saturday, Jor..."

Vanessa cut him off, "Baby, we've talked about this. You need to go see a doctor."

"In the meantime, let me see if I can motivate your little man to stand up." She leaned down, her lips hovering over the tip. Marc's breath caught, his hands unclenched. He felt the spark of lust and blood rushing to his dick.

"Hunh. Seems he likes my moves," Vanessa purred.

A flicker of worry crossed Marc's mind, would he be able to keep it up. She licked a slow swab up his length, her tongue swirling around the head before pulling back. He groaned, his body tense, and she smirked against his skin.

For the next few minutes Marc exhaled through his nose, enjoying the sensation of her tongue. It felt different, like she was--really into it? It'd been awhile, maybe it was his imagination. He didn't want to question it, didn't want to waste the gift that was happening for them. It'd been so long since they had been intimate. He looked at his watch again, worried, would they have time.

She took him back into her mouth, her lips closing around him in a tight seal. Sucking gently, her tongue swirling, her hands gripping his thighs to keep him still. But when Vanessa tongued the underside of his now firm dick, he glanced at his watch again, "Damn, you gotta hurr... Vanessa!" Marc groaned through gritted teeth.

She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. He was as hard for her, she felt triumphant. She let his dick go with a soft pop as it escaped her lips and she purred, "Guess we both won." She resumed her attack, she had no intention of stopping. On an emotional level she wanted Marc to reclaim her mouth, she was even tempted to swallow. She grinned, opened her mouth and just as her lips were forming around his crown again...

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Fuck," Marc shouted, he'd been so close, as he looked down at his wilted dick. Vanessa's head snapped up at his alarmed outburst, "Shit. I'm sorry. Tried to tell you earlier." Gently pushing her head aside, he pulled his shorts back up, "Can we... try again later when I get back?"

Using all her strength, she kept him in place, Vanessa wasn't budging, "Where are you going? Let's try again now."

Marc looked down at her, "That's Jordan, it's paintball Saturday." He pulled her up and off his thighs. She gave him a pouting look, then flopped down on the sofa.

"But... really... now? You don't want me to try and finish?" she stared at him bewildered.

"Yeah, it's on the calendar. Every two weeks," he shrugged at her with an apologetic smile as he moved to the door.

Vanessa's jaw clenched. Right. Paintball Saturday. What was she thinking?

Just as Marc opened the door, a grumbled outburst left Vanessa's lips, "I'll bet Jordan wouldn't turn down a blowjob!"

Marc's dick twitched to life again, 'Did she just say that? Did Jordan hear her?' his mind was frozen with embarrassment. He stood blinking at Jordan.

"Uh... You ready Marc?" Jordan said as he stood on the porch, wondering what he'd just walked into.

Jordan's question snapped him out of his pause, "Ye... Yeah, just a sec," Marc said as he turned to kiss his wife goodbye, but all he saw was her retreating back. Shaking his head he grabbed his gear, quickly covering his crotch and said, "Later babe, love you."

Vanessa stormed into her bedroom, the sound of Jordan's laughter with Marc as they walked out fueling her ire. She slammed the door shut, her chest heaving with frustration. The sudden interruption had ruined her plans, and now she was left with a restless energy she couldn't shake.

Why did he have such a low libido? Why didn't he want her? What was she doing wrong? She had been so close to pushing Marc to the edge, letting him reclaim his wife, but Jordan's untimely arrival had cut her goal short.

She breathed a resigned sigh. 'That was a shitty thing to do,' she railed at herself. He wasn't aware of why it mattered so much to her. She shouldn't have lashed out at him for her mistakes. She grabbed her phone and typed out a quick text to Marc.

Vanessa>I'm sorry I was bitchy earlier. I shouldn't have said that in front of Jordan. I just... Can we talk tonight?<

The guilt over her encounter with Dave still lingered, but she had been so determined to make it up to Marc. She wanted to help him through this struggle that had been plaguing them for a few months. Most of all she wanted to prove to herself--and to him--that she could be the wife he deserved. She flopped onto the bed, her mind racing with thoughts of Dave, Marc, and the tangled web she'd woven herself into.

Jordan's Perspective

They were both drenched in pink paint and sweat. Laughing at each other, as they peeled off their padded vests in the locker room and wiped down their gear. Marc and Jordan had played hard and had almost won the match, but they hadn't been prepared for an ambush by the GetGudGirls during the final round.

"Heeey Marc, looking good in pink," Jordan said "Duhhh... Hi Cathy. Good game," chuckling at his impression of the GetGudGirls' team leader and Marc's followup.

"What?" Marc replied.

"Dude you need to step it up. Cathy was totally flirting with you," Jordan teased.

"She was not, she was just rubbing in their victory," Marc said, "Even if she was, I'm married, remember?"

Jordan smirked at him, "Married doesn't mean dead, bro. Besides, it's just a little harmless flirting."

Marc was too exhausted to continue the banter, not to mention he had other things on his mind. He'd read Vanessa's message before the match but he wasn't sure how to respond. How could he explain what was going on, when he didn't really understand it himself.

His mind drifted to the first time he'd failed to perform. How hurt she'd been, she didn't say it, but he could see it in her eyes. Then her voice broke as she asked if he still wanted her, was she not attractive enough for him?

Her question was like a punch to the gut. Of course he wanted her, he adored her and his will was there. He told her as much, that he wasn't sure why it happened, maybe it was just the stress of work. What good were words when his body betrayed him, failing to show her that he found her desirable. He'd always known his drive was less than his peers, certainly less than hers. Would she accept this truth, or would she see him as weak and pathetic.

He should have talked to her to explain it, but he couldn't bear it--hearing her confirm his worst fears. But wanting her wasn't enough. Not when his body froze under the weight of expectation. Not when it occurred several times after and he failed to keep it when he got an erection. He could see the flicker of resignation in her eyes before she masked it, and reassured him it was a phase, they would get through it.

He needed to fix this? Maybe he should see someone, like Vanessa said, get a medical opinion. It was becoming far too frequent and he didn't want this to be a permanent situation.

And then there was the other door he didn't want to open. What if she grew tired of waiting, of reassuring him, of feeling unwanted even when he ached for her? She'd always told him that it was fine, that it was enough for her. But what if that changed?

Later, in Jordan's car, the seats still slightly sticky from the heat of the Texas sun, the laughter from earlier faded into a more thoughtful quiet. The road home was lined with late afternoon shadows, and Marc stared out the window before his thoughts were interrupted.

"So what's eating at you Gilbert?" said Jordan, rapping his knuckles against the steering wheel.

"Huh? Oh, the movie," Marc paused, could he share this with Jordan. He needed to talk to someone and he felt unable to communicate with Vanessa. "She's... different lately," Marc said, peering out the window. "Vanessa. It's like she's... waking up or something. Trying new things, dressing bolder, coming home late. I don't know what to make of it."

Jordan kept his eyes on the road, but his brow lifted. "She okay?"

"Yeah, I mean, I guess. She seems really happy lately," Marc let out a quiet breath, "But it's not the version of her I know. She seems to be changing faster than I can keep up. Guess in a small way I feel like I'm losing her." He found it too painful to admit his shame, to talk about what was really bothering him--even to his best friend.

Jordan gave him a quick glance, "Sounds like she's just growing a little. People do that, bro. Doesn't mean she's leaving you behind... unless you're trying to stop her?"

Marc frowned, "No. I'm trying to be supportive, but I won't pretend I'm totally fine with everything either."

"You don't have to pretend but you do have to communicate," Jordan said, his voice measured, "Why do you think I'm such a hit with the ladies? I listen. I ask questions. Do the same with Vanessa. See what she needs or wants. You married her, bro--whatever new side is coming out, it's still her. Maybe try going with the flow, make her needs a priority."

Marc didn't answer for a few minutes, lost in the maze of his thoughts. Jordan's advice made sense. He might not grasp what Vanessa was going through, but maybe understanding wasn't the point. Maybe what mattered was being steady while she figured herself out. Logically, he knew he should be able to tell her anything, but still--the fear of losing her--that was a future he didn't want to contemplate.

His wandering attention caught up with Jordan's voice... "This have anything to do with the spat I walked in on?"

Marc hesitated in silence. Some things were too raw, too private, even for Jordan. But this was his oldest friend. He swallowed hard.

"Uhm... maybe," he fumbled for the right words, dancing around the truth. "She was acting weird today. I can't put my finger on it, but... she was uh... being frisky when you knocked," heat rose on Marc's cheeks as he turned away.

"Wait. Dude, are you serious? You think your wife being "frisky" is weird?" Jordan stated with air quotes.

"What? No... that's not what I mean," Marc backpedaled, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "She was... er going down on me when you showed up. It wasn't our scheduled time," Marc said, trying to explain.

A beat of silence lingered, when he realized what he had admitted, "Shit, forget I said that," he dragged a hand down his face. "Seriously, don't bring it up in front of her. I'd be in the doghouse for sure. But we had paintball. Couldn't just bail on you."

"You fucking turned down a blowjob to play paintball?" Jordan said, shaking his head. "Look we go way back and I'll always have your back, but seriously... you're an idiot." Jordan's eyes wide with a mix of befuddlement and genuine concern.

Marc flinched, he had to know if Jordan had heard the last of their argument, "Umh... What did you hear?"

Jordan shrugged sheepishly, "I got the gist of it, I didn't want to bring it up. Make it weird or anything, especially after the other day... the sofa... well you know. But she's right, I wouldn't have turned down a blowjob."

Marc gave him a hard stare. His nostrils flared with a hot flash of jealous rage. The unbidden image of Jordan's head, leaned back on their sofa, growling as Vanessa's head bobbed up and down in his lap, flashed in his brain.

"What dude, your wife's hot," registering he'd pushed too hard, Jordan continued, "Look, that's a line I'd never cross, I hope you know that, but I'm not blind," he shot back at Marc.

He sat there, staring at Jordan, the jealousy settled. He was right, Marc thought, he wouldn't betray him like that. Or would he... would she? Why did she even say that? He knew her appetite was greater than his in the bedroom, would she seek satisfaction from someone else? Marc's mind rebelled against those thoughts immediately. No they wouldn't do that to him.

"I know you wouldn't cuz I'd have to kick your ass," Marc laughed, trying to defuse the tension and then without thinking added, "But don't get your hopes up, she doesn't like giving head to begin with."

Jordan shook his head then decided to wisely change the topic. "Tacos or burgers for dinner?"

Marc absently muttered, "Tacos." then looked out the window again. Maybe Jordan was right, maybe he was an idiot. He needed to do something, talk to her, maybe show her that if she was changing, he could try changing too--even in small ways. He didn't want to lose her. And if supporting her meant stepping into unfamiliar territory--could he do that for her?

By the time Marc got home that evening she was already asleep. The next morning they both avoided the topic, unsure of how to approach the issue for their own reasons.

False Hope

It wasn't until Sunday evening before Vanessa had a moment of cold clarity--crouched on the bathroom tub, hot tears on her cheeks. It wasn't bad enough she had slipped up, she had compounded her mistake in the worst way possible. One that could unravel everything.

At lunch the following Monday, she made an urgent dash to a Doc in a Box. She prayed she hadn't contracted an STD and foolishly passed it on to Marc over the weekend. She was so relieved when she got her tests back, confirming she was clean. She'd been so embarrassed asking them to run the tests--she paid extra in cash and was adamant they run a full panel. Vanessa had to be certain--thankful for patient confidentiality, because the physician's assistant certainly raised an eyebrow at her insistent request.

Vanessa initially felt a weight hanging over her. No matter how she turned her predicament over in her mind, there were no clean solutions. She had considered confiding in Sophie, but decided against it. Sophie would've gone ballistic and it would have gotten back to Dave via Leo. She obviously couldn't talk it over with Marc, nor the Police.

So she waited. Hoped that Dave's interest would burn out as quickly as it had flared--forgetting about her completely. Her fears lessened as the weeks flew by without Dave contacting her. Life with Marc settled into something almost normal--if normal meant skirting the unspoken thing that hummed between them. Maybe silence was the answer. Maybe some desires were better left unexamined.

Maybe this was behind her...

... and then she got the text she'd been dreading would come.

Dave>wednesday--address--booty shorts, crop top and boots, nothing underneath. 7pm sharp.<

'Such an arrogant ass,' Vanessa had huffed. 'No please or thank you. Just the ugly details.' She had hoped Dave wouldn't make good on his demands--wouldn't push for more. But that was wishful thinking on her part. She was beginning to understand that Dave was a man who went after what he wanted. At least he gave her a day's notice. It could have been worse...

A second text soon followed.

Dave >i need some inspiration, send a pic of your naked ass. you have 3 mins, or the world finds out how much you love sucking my cock.<

Vanessa's body locked up in panic--no more delaying--she had to make a decision. Marc was in the walk-in closet getting dressed for work. She knew she really didn't have a choice to make, she had no other solution at the moment.

She jumped up, rushing to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She had to do this swiftly, if Marc tried to come in he'd be suspicious of the locked door. She dropped her shorts and pulled her long sleep shirt over her head. She bent over, struggling to find a good angle to hold the camera, and still get her ass in the shot. Taking several, she chose one and sent it back--she had 5 secs to spare.

Dave >good girl kitten. cya soon.<

The adrenaline eased out of her body replaced by indignation, once again not even a thank you. But another realization occurred. Why was she vibrating with anticipation?

Entertaining Dave's Friends

Dave leaned back in his seat, surveying his small studio. Python Productions was a carefully crafted illusion these days--most often he did honest business out of it--corporate headshots, model portfolios and the like, but it had also become his lair for plucking forbidden fruit.

The place where he lured reluctant women to pose for him, plying them with his special tea and suggestive comments, until they gave in to his dark lusts. It took a lot of time and effort to achieve his goals; sometimes he only got one shot with them, sometimes they came back for more.

But he'd lucked out with Vanessa. Not only was she the sexiest young woman he'd laid eyes on, he suspected her needs weren't being tended to at home. He couldn't believe that she'd fallen for his scheme of releasing the video of her. He could be an aggressive asshole sometimes but he would never physically force a woman to have sex with him, that was too dark even for him.

He relished the challenge of corrupting them. It made their surrender all the more sweet. Giving them a choice--heavily weighted in his favor of course--made his conquest more exciting. Releasing the video wasn't an ideal option, it would burn him as much as it would harm her. So when Vanessa didn't call his bluff and agreed to show up for tonight, it gave him a wicked thrill and made him hard at the implications.

Tonight, the studio served a different purpose. Dave had pushed the camera equipment out of the way, inviting the guys over for cigars, whisky and bullshitting. At the center of the open floor stood an old round prop table--now draped in a too-long black velvet cloth he had salvaged from a forgotten photoshoot. The fabric pooled dramatically on the floor, concealing the surprise for his friends, stashed beneath.

The dim light from the overhead cast long shadows over the table. Four men hunched over their drinks, their laughter rolling thick between shuffles of well-worn cards. The clink of stacking chips punctuated the rhythm of their lies--some told across the table, others tucked behind raised hands.

Ice clinked against glass as a bottle of whiskey made its rounds. Dave leaned back in his chair, listening with half an ear as his friends swapped stories about the best lay they ever had--the kind of exaggerated nonsense that had become tradition. Dave smiled a devilish grin, tonight one of his friends was going to have a new story to tell. He'd invited the friends over for more than just poker, they were going to help him test Vanessa's willingness to be naughty, they just didn't know it yet.

Vinny Moretti, a retired photojournalist, chuckled and said, "I once fucked a really hefty senorita down in Mexico. Took me, my brother and several little pills to satisfy that horny bitch. But we left her with a smile from ear to ear." He slapped his cards down and said "Read'em and weep, boys. The pot is mine!"

"Vinny you fucking lucky bastard." Ronnie Kemp, an old buddy from Dave's early days in the industry, tapped his cards and then tossed them onto the table. "I was down in Galveston, hooked me a fine ass model while we were shooting. Damn'ed if she didn't have the loosest pussy ever. Made sure to hold onto her thighs so I didn't fall in."

The three other men groaned at Ronnie's lame humor. "But boy she could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch, best blowjob to this day." Laughter erupted around the table, but Dave only half-smiled, his thoughts elsewhere.

Dave grabbed the deck of cards and started shuffling them. "Alright boys, let's make things interesting. I found a wild cat a few weeks ago, and tonight she's gonna give you a little... distraction. So here's the score, you win the hand, she's going to jerk your dick until the next guy wins. Whoever takes the final pot gets a happy ending. Isn't that right Kitten?"

A muffled female voice rose from beneath the table, "Yes, Dave." His friends looked startled at first but then the leers soon followed as each looked forward to winning.

Hidden beneath them, Vanessa's cheeks burned with humiliation, but she forced herself to stay silent. She had no choice. Dave's grip on her life was too tight, and disobedience meant consequences she couldn't bear to imagine.

"Vinny, why don't you unzip for her. Go on Kitten, give Vinny a hand," Dave said, chuckling at the look on Vinny's face. Vinny pulled on his zipper and felt a warm hand encased in latex close around his dick. "Come on, sweetheart, let's see what you've got," Vinny chuckled. Grabbing the drape Vinny tried to see under the table.

Dave snapped his fingers, "No peeking fellas, she's shy. Eyes above the table and just enjoy."

Vanessa had been hidden under the table for the last half hour, waiting for Dave's signal to perform. She had spent that time stewing with disgust. Forced to listen to the old men say nasty things and degrade the women they talked about. She was sure it was all bullshit, a story they boasted about, trying to impress the others. Still it pissed her off.

What the fuck was she doing here, why did she agree to this? Trapped under the table, on her knees, contemplating the task Dave informed her she would be performing. To fondle these men under the table, make them hard and give one of them a happy ending as their reward.

'Like I had a choice,' she thought. Oh, he gave her a choice all right, walk out and ruin her life, or do as he asked. Some choice.

She reached out reluctantly, her fingers closing around Vinny's shaft. His thin dick was warm, but firm, as she easily wrapped her hand around it, stroking him. She fought the urge to escape as she began to move her hand up and down. The sound of his low chuckle made her skin crawl, but she forced herself to focus on the task. At least they couldn't see her performing Dave's little game, sitting below them in the dark. She tried to think of other things. Keep her mind removed and far away.

---------------------

She thought back to earlier and was ashamed of how she slipped out of her house--Jordan and Marc focused on their video game, not even looking up to take notice that she was wearing her tan coat on a summer night and long black felt boots. Hell she probably could have walked out the door naked and they wouldn't have noticed. Resentment crept into her consciousness.

Dave had noticed. The moment she walked through the door his eyes never left her body--undressing her with them--declaring how much he craved her.

"I said nothing else," he sternly cautioned when she had walked in. "You said nothing underneath," she retorted defiantly, but then removed her coat under his withering glare. He turned from her and waved her over to the black cloth covered table and explained what he wanted from her.

"I... I can't do this Dave. It's bad enough that I cheated on my husband with you. Now you want me to do it with three other guys. I just..." pleaded Vanessa, shaking her head.

Dave cut her off. Not interested in her denials. "The door is over there, Kitten," he gestured towards the entrance with one hand, "You are free to leave at any time and the world gets to see you being naughty," as he tapped his phone with the other. A not so subtle reminder of the video he had of her.

"Besides, I don't think you want to leave. Something tells me you like being told what to do. Oh you can protest and act defiant, but deep down, you need someone to take you in hand, show you what you've been missing out on," his eyes challenged her.

Vanessa's denial caught in her throat and she recoiled as if slapped with the truth--the weight of his words striking deep. A flicker of shame, guilt and lust crossed her face--too quick to hide. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms. She said nothing, but her glare and reaction told Dave all he needed to know.

"Relax Kitten, it's not even cheating. It's just a little rub and tug," Dave grinned at her. "Use your hand to give them a tease. Give one of them a happy ending, maybe even let them taste your lips."

Dave knew she'd made her choice when her shoulders slumped and she said, "But... I... Fine, but at least make them wear protection!?" Vanessa's words were somewhere between a demand and a pleading request.

"Valid point, got any condoms? Dave asked.

"What? No. We don't use them," she countered without thinking and then regretted the slip.

Dave filed away that tidbit of info. As he thought about it, she was right, he didn't want her to catch anything, nor pass it on to him. "I'm sure they're fine, but safety first. I think I have one in my gear bag, or you can grab some of those latex gloves in the makeup bay," Dave suggested. He didn't want his prize spoiled like that.

---------------------

Dave's harsh laughter cut through her wandering mind, "Slow down Kitten. Poor Ronnie can't hold his cards straight."

Vanessa had been so lost in her reflections of earlier, she had been unaware her hand had switched to a new dick and her strokes weren't mechanical or detached anymore. She obeyed, her fingers slowing in rhythm as she tried to block out the voices above her. She was just a tool, a means to their pleasure, and the thought made her stomach twist.

But as she continued stroking, something strange happened. Her disgust faded, replaced by a strange warmth spreading through her body. She told herself it was just the heat of the room, but in the deep dark corners of her mind, she knew it was something else.

Running her hand up and down Ronnie's dick with a slow precision, she tried to maximize his pleasure. It felt familiar in her hand, if she didn't know better it felt a lot like Marc's, well, on the rare occasions when he could keep an erection. Ronnie's pre-cum coated her latex covered fingers, having run down his shaft, lubricating her slow movements.

Hearing Nate's gloating, she let go of Ronnie and heard a groan from above. "Damn Nate. I was almost there," Ronnie grumbled in annoyance. She moved to Nate when she saw a new pair of hands pointing at a zipper.

Above the table Dave said, "Last hand, gents. Winner takes all." He could see the avaricious looks on his friend's faces. Each of them, willing to bet it all to feel her hands on their dicks and provide them with a sweet release. Dave laughed inside, when he pulled pocket aces on the draw. Today was indeed his lucky day, too bad he wasn't interested in winning.

She bumped her head in revulsion, backing away from the stench emanating from Nate's crotch. 'When was the last time this guy took a bath,' she thought, as her stomach churned. Vanessa grimaced, swallowing down the bile rising in her throat, forcing herself to continue lowering his zipper and fishing out his dick.

She was taken aback at how little his dick was--but also how fat it felt, it was like the head of a baseball bat. "That's right baby, you'll need two hands for my monster," she heard Nate leering above her. She did her best to push aside his unpleasant scent, hoping to get him off quickly so she could be done with it. Thankful she wouldn't have to put it in her mouth.

'It wouldn't fit,' she thought, as she put both her hands around it and tried her best to stroke his short thick shaft. 'Absolutely no way,' Vanessa mused to herself.

It got her to thinking, comparing each dick she had pleasured tonight. It's unbelievably thick, but that isn't a monster buddy! She retorted in her mind. Marc's dick didn't even make the list--now Dave's--that was a monster, so rigid, long and thick. Vanessa's mouth salivated thinking about it. She remembered the pride she felt, knowing she could tame Dave's cock, make it cum for her. How it pulsed in her mouth.

Vanessa's body rewarded her wicked thoughts, her pussy releasing lubrication that flooded her vaginal walls and puddled in her shorts. A strange excitement had been building in her since she took out Vinny's dick. An ache she hadn't realized--wanting attention.

Vanessa grabbed the water bottle Dave had given her, hoping the pleasant cherry almond taste would wash away Nate's vile scent. She then focused her attention on using her hands to circle around Nate's dick, slathering his crown with pre-cum. It throbbed in her grip, and despite herself, she found her movements becoming more deliberate, more pronounced.

"Shit I'm out." said Vinny. "Me too," echoed Ronnie "Too rich for my blood."

"Guess it's you and me Nate," chuckled Dave. "Care to raise the stakes? I got another $50 and you have what, $200 left? I'm not sure I want to share my Kitten with you." Vanessa's ears perked up at that, relief passing over her, hoping she wouldn't have to service Nate's nasty dick afterall. "I'll put my $50 against your $200. I win, we split the pot but no happy ending. If you win, you have to choose--either the pot or a blowjob?"

Vanessa stifled a squeak trying to escape at the prospect. Her grip tightened around Nate's dick, doubling her efforts to make him pop. If she got him off with her hand, she wouldn't have to think about it being in her mouth.

"Hmm, it's tempting, she sure knows how to use her hands. I think you're bluffing so I'll take that bet. I want to see if she can fit her mouth around my fat dick." Nate shared a knowing smile with the other guys, as he tossed his chips into the pot.

While the game went on above, she grimaced, her hands were slowing down, her arms growing sore from her efforts this evening and Nate didn't seem anywhere near ready to spurt.

Dave smiled, his gut instinct was Nate had a full house, and with his pocket aces and one in the river, he was thinking he had a chance to beat Nate's hand. But that wasn't his goal, he didn't really want to win, he wanted Vanessa to contribute to her downfall. Pleasuring his friends was another tool; bending her to his will--getting her to do something beneath her--pushing her boundaries. To rile her up and have her aching for his cock.

As the two men raised and called, the darkness below was thick with anticipation. Vanessa's hand slowed, her mind racing as she tried to follow what was happening above her. She was supposed to hate this, to despise the degradation, but instead, she felt a hum of excitement inside her. Nate's cock twitched in her grip, and she found herself leaning in closer, her breath hot against his skin.

The final turn card was flipped over and it was the Ace of Spades. Dave hid his excitement behind a chuckle, it truly was his lucky day. "Last chance buddy," said Dave. "No way, I'm all in and since all your chips are in the pot--Full house buddy," Nate's eyes gleamed with triumph.

Dave's eyes widened in mock-surprise. "Damn you old goat. I thought I had you there," he said, folding his aces into the other discarded cards. "What'll it be?"

"Been a few months. Get that mouth working slut," said Nate reaching underneath the table searching for Vanessa's head.

---------------------

Vanessa's cheeks burned as she realized what was expected of her. With a mix of resignation and an ember of desire, she grabbed the condom wrapper, tearing it open. She had to work at it to fit

Nate's fat crown into the extra large condom, it fought her to be contained. Once she got his dick covered, she hesitated, not even sure how to proceed. 'The sooner she did this the sooner she could be done with it,' she thought to herself--a small part of her still resisting.

Eventually she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Nate's thick shaft. She gingerly licked his latex covered knob. It was different, she'd never given a blowjob with a condom on. At least it didn't have a particular taste, she decided and was thankful for that. Stretching her lips as wide as she could, she cautiously lowered her head, but she was having trouble, she couldn't get her mouth wide enough.

Nate's hands tangled in her hair, his fingers tightening as Vanessa fought for control and pushed her head down over his enormous knob. "That's right slut, get that fat hog inside you," Nate grunted.

Vanessa struggled for a moment, panicking that it wouldn't fit, her lips stretched to their limit. And then the knob popped into her mouth and Nate surged up. Her panic subsided, she was thankful he wasn't longer, and didn't have to worry about gagging. He barely reached the back of her mouth. Her anxiety quelled, she relaxed some, her saliva lubricating his thrusts. With the little room her stuffed mouth had, she used her tongue to tease the sensitive ridge underneath his knob and was rewarded with his groans of pleasure her efforts produced.

Vanessa closed her eyes, and let him use her mouth as she surrendered to the moment.

As the banter above her passed back and forth, a burst of lust shifted Vanessa's awareness. She was supposed to be disgusted, humiliated, but instead, she felt a surge of power, of desire, as she pleasured him. Something she hadn't felt since the photoshoot with Dave. There was something about the act; feeling powerless, being used for Nate's pleasure.

Nate's hips bucked slightly as he fucked her mouth, his body tensing as he neared the edge. Vanessa deepened her movements, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock, coating it in liquid heat. She could feel his urgency, the thickness of him filling her mouth, and despite the degradation, she found herself wanting more.

The rhythm of her mouth became familiar, almost meditative. She found herself focusing less on the smell and more on the small victories--the little grunts and groans from Nate--the subtle satisfaction of hearing how she pleased this old man. Her nipples became hard and ached each time they rubbed against his jean covered legs. The fabric teasing her with delicious thrills.

Her reluctance for the evening's activities were replaced with a quiet pride. Her acting this way should have repulsed her, doing such wicked things, but there was a familiar sensation coursing through her blood. It felt much the same as when she had sucked on Dave's cock. It was a burning mindless desire to please, to be used, to give in and submit.

With her hands unnecessary to hold Nate's dick, she used one of them to fondle her breast, squeezing its fullness. The other snaked inside her booty shorts to rub circles around her clit. As disgusted as she'd been with Dave's demands early in the evening, she couldn't help but realize she was getting turned on by how demeaning these acts were. Being manhandled by Nate's strong grip. His hands propelling her head up and down on his dick. Using her mouth as a hole to fill with his manhood.

Her pussy tingled with this newly discovered thrill. No longer an unwilling participant, she was growing aroused by it. Nate was getting rougher with her by the moment. Vanessa could tell he was close and she renewed her efforts, pushing down on his surging thrusts, rubbing her clit faster and shoving three fingers into her box, hoping she would reach an orgasm before him.

"Fuck Yes," Nate groaned, his voice hoarse with need. "You're gonna make me--" His words were cut off by a sharp grunt, his body shaking as he exploded into the condom. His thrust carried her head upward, crashing into the table with enough force to daze her.

Vanessa's eyes fluttered closed both savoring the moment and in frustration at her own lost climax. She had never felt so desired, so needed, and those thoughts sent a shiver down her spine.

Vanessa felt Nate's dick soften, her lips relaxed as it slipped from her mouth. She pulled away, her lips thick with dripping saliva as it trailed down her chin. The task, though revolting at first, had given her a sense of accomplishment she hadn't expected.

Vanessa straightened, working her jaw, noticing how sore the muscles were. It wasn't something she had intended, nor if she were honest, something she had sought, but she had a name for it now--service--and it was exhilarating. Being this naughty was like chasing a drug induced high, something she'd experienced once or twice in college.

---------------------

"You can come out now, I sent them home," Dave said. Vanessa lifted the drape and checked that he wasn't lying. Not seeing anyone else she crawled half-way out and stopped, her gaze settling on Dave grinning at her, sitting in his chair. Even at the short distance between them, his large frame loomed over her, the bulge of his cock tempting her.

She ran her tongue over her lips, they felt puffy and bruised, her jaw ached but some pavlovian instinct made them pucker and moisten. Wanting nothing more than to have Dave shove his formidable cock in her mouth--it's shaft pulsing with life.

'Damn she was a rare beauty,' Dave thought, even with her light makeup smeared and the rich black strands of hair sticking to her pale sweaty skin, she had a quiet sensuality. What he liked most was the look of pure lust in her dark, almond-shaped eyes. "You needy bitch. You want more cock don't you?" Dave said with a smug confidence. "Come on, crawl over here Kitten and I'll let you have it."

Vanessa's lip twitched, fighting back a full grin. 'Fuck, how does he do this,' she thought, trying to fight the magnetic pull. How can this man, almost twice her age, fill her with such naughty yearning? And why did she want this when she knew the cost?

This was beneath her, she felt like a tramp in heat. Wanting nothing more than to obey him and get her treat. Even as she chastised herself, she crawled to him and settled between his knees, tugging at his zipper, craving to wrap her petite hand around his shaft and point it towards her waiting lips.

'No, this isn't right,' she said to herself. She had to be better, she shouldn't do this. Vanessa willed herself to stop, she couldn't do this. It was wrong. 'But you've already done it once tonight--that doesn't make it right,' her thoughts battled within her. Vanessa let go of his zipper, placed her hands on his knees and stood up. She looked down to avoid his hazel eyed stare and stepped back, "I can't... I shouldn't be here."

Dave saw the resolve in her eyes, before she quickly looked away. She meant it. He pondered this for a moment--maybe the chemicals in the tea worked differently on some people. He could see the arousal in her flushed skin, her nipples hard and tenting the thin top she wore. But she was resisting the suggestibility of the tea's normal properties. She was turning out to be a bit of an enigma.

He could tell from experience, could see the hunger within that needed to be fulfilled, but something was holding her back. And as much as he wanted her to give up and give in, he admired her feisty spirit to resist. It filled him with a stronger desire to possess her--completely.

His silence compelled her to look up, his leering gaze lingered before saying, "Your mouth says you can't, but we both know your body says you will." His words thundered in her ears--so certain, so confident. She jumped in fright when Dave lurched out of his chair with alarming quickness, the chair racing across the studio floor crashing into a wall.

His calloused hands gripped her waist and lifted her slim body off the floor with ease. "Ohhh," escaped her lips as he did. He slowly walked her backwards, his fiery gaze making her tremble in fear and she was ashamed to admit--quivering excitement. Her plush ass cheeks hit the edge of the card table and Vanessa gasped, when he pushed her down.

The poker chips bit into her back as Dave's left hand closed around her throat, pinning her to the table. She reached up suddenly afraid, both of hers grasping at his hand--there was a wild look in his eyes and her mind raced with what might happen next. The fright that he might strangle her came first, but his aggression ignited a longing beyond anything she could have imagined.

When his hand didn't constrict her airway, she calmed her frantic clawing. He didn't intend to choke her, that much was clear. No he was showing her something else--that he could take what he wanted--if he wanted. The fire and hunger was there, but it was controlled, not wild, she determined. He looked down on her, "You keep saying what you shouldn't do, when we both know you want to say what you crave to do," his words hammering at her reluctance.

Dave paused to let his words sink in, to taunt her. His right hand trailed down her body, the deep tan of his skin vivid against her golden paleness. Caressing her smooth belly, cupping her hip with a gentle strength, before sweeping it over to her inner thighs, forcing them to spread open like the petals of a delicate flower.

"And no matter how much you try to hide or deny it, I can see the ache--the need," Dave said as he traced a finger along her cloth covered slit. "Shit, you're practically dripping," he emphasized this point by slipping a finger under the edge of her booty shorts, coating his finger in her abundant secretions.

Vanessa cursed her body for betraying her, he was right, she was drawn to this older man and his desire for her. Something that Marc was unable or unwilling to provide. But she had to be strong. She may have been trapped in an untenable situation, with the leverage he held over her. But she rationalized that as long as she didn't admit it... she wasn't a bad person, she could still be a good wife.

Dave should be annoyed with her actions, most of his conquests had given in by now, but he was betting on a bigger return--he decided she was worth the patience. He gave her a crooked smile and said, "I'm not going to make you do anything, Kitten. I don't need to. Before you leave you'll be begging me... to put it in."

Dave's smug look caused a whimper of arousal and worry to bubble up inside her. Vanessa shook her head side to side attempting to deny the truth of his words.

"You've seen my cock, you've had it in your mouth. You're curious aren't you? What it would feel like? Deep inside you," he gloated at her from above.

Vanessa felt his fingers clench the gusset of her booty shorts. "I didn't get a proper look last time." he smirked, his lust filled eyes locked with hers. He tugged on the booty shorts, trying to pull them from her body--one side of the hem digging into her hip bone--refusing to let go. With a second yank, she yelped, hearing the thin fabric rip as cool air floated across her heated folds.

She felt shame at what he would find when he looked down. She tried to cover her wetness, her natural shyness kicking in--not wanting him to see her sex. But he batted her hands away. "Stop." he barked at her and for some reason, she ceased her struggle, as only the third man in her life witnessed her naked vulva.

The hand holding her throat released its pressure and with both hands he grabbed the hem of her booty shorts, roughly removing them from her body. She panted at the ferocity of his actions, frozen in anticipation. She closed her eyes in dread and anxious expectation.

Dave admired her beauty, feasting his eyes on her plump mound. Her puffy lips seemed so innocent trying to hide her aroused labia. Her dark silky pubic hair glistened with her nectar and he longed to taste its sweetness. He swept his fingers over the fine hair before tugging on it. "Hmm. This won't do," he stated almost as if talking to himself, "Nope, this will need to go. I need you to be smooth and bare."

Vanessa grimaced slightly at the tugging sensation and her eyes snapped open. 'What? How would I explain that to Marc,' was her first thought. She hadn't been bare since puberty. But... what would it feel like to experience his hard flesh rubbing against her bare pussy? 'Stop it!' she said to herself, 'I'm not doing that... I shouldn't do that.' She rebuked the naughty thoughts threatening to overwhelm her.

Hearing his belt buckle hit the floor, Vanessa realized he'd dropped his pants. This had to stop, it's already gone too far. She should do something, yell at him, to lash out and run--anything to get away from this situation. Why did she feel so helpless? And why did that make her squirm with lust?

But Vanessa made the mistake of looking between her heaving breasts. His powerful tool arrested any further thoughts, Dave's hand stroking it in a slow teasing manner. Her eyes snapped up as he spoke, "You know you want it."

Vanessa shook her head glacially, fighting the desire to let him take her. She felt his thick fingers spreading her engorged labia, parting her wet crease. When he brushed her extended clit, she clenched her jaw. Throwing her head back in anguished pleasure. She mustn't give in, it was wrong--ughn, so deliciously wrong.

Smack. His cock thumped against her clit, droplets of her arousal spattering her nearby thighs. "Tell me..." Her hands clenched the table cloth beneath her, she couldn't do this. It wasn't right. Smack. "Uhhn" escaped her lips, her resolve cracking. Smack. His thumping increased, her clit on fire each time it hit. Sending shockwaves through her body and she found it harder to resist. She shouldn't do this. It crosses a line...

Dave loved seeing her resistance faltering, she could fight it all she wanted but he knew she yearned to feel it. He switched tactics on her and pushed the head of his cock through the groove of her slit, her wet heat coating the head.

He so wanted to watch his cock pry open her lips, plunge his cock into her tight Asian pussy. To feel her surrounding his cock with her velvet warmth. He wanted to take her over and over again; leave her petite slit gaping from his entry, his cum oozing from her freshly fucked cunt. But he was determined, she had to ask for it, he wanted her to surrender--to submit.

Gathering her wetness on his tip, he teased it up and down her lips, pausing at her entrance once again, pushing just a fraction of it in, stretching her tight ring. Then back up to her clit, slow, methodical, torturing. "Don't fight it. Just say you want it and I'll make you cum so hard," his words taunting her with the temptation.

This went on for several minutes as he watched her struggle with what she wanted to happen and what she wouldn't admit. Her denials, turned into groans, then to mewls--her breathing becoming short gasps as she tried to hold off. It was a symphony to Dave's ears, the sweet sound of surrender was on the horizon.

Vanessa closed her eyes concentrating on not giving in. 'This isn't me. I should stop this,' she chanted in her mind. Fuck she was so close though, fighting the pleasure was edging her closer towards an orgasm, she rationalized. Maybe it would be okay, she hadn't asked for this.

Dave switched up his attack, sawing his cock through her wet valley. Using her plump lips to stroke his cock, the harsh rhythms forcing his crown to mash against her clit--the sensation slithered through her brain--it felt wicked. She had been good, did what he wanted, hadn't she?

The intensity overwhelmed her, she was so close. If he thrust inside, just a little... "Please... uh... fuck..." she couldn't bear it any longer. She had to feel it inside her.

Vanessa's mind and body were so ragged by this point she expected him to enter her. She was startled, when her plea went unfulfilled by a warm wetness impacting her chin and droplets splashed upon her body. Eyes snapping open, trying to understand what was taking place.

She watched with shocked fascination at how he forced his hand up his shaft. Unprepared when another geyser of cum rocketed from his cock and landed on her cheek, dribbling down to her lips. Three more ropes of cum splattered her breasts, soaking into her crop top, some landing on her belly.

Vanessa was stunned as she watched him grab her torn booty shorts and wiped off his cock. He laughed at her expression of disbelief. "Maybe next time if you're a good girl and admit what you want," Dave callously remarked. "Now get dressed and go home. I'm sure hubby is wondering where you are," he tossed the shorts at her, they landed on the puddle of cum seeping into her belly button.

'What the fuck just happened,' her mind scrambled to catch up. Why did he stop when she had all but given in? The whiplash of extremes splintered her consciousness--one moment burning to have her, the next his dismissal icy cold.

She could barely pay attention to her surroundings as he pulled her up and wrapped her coat over her shoulders, hustling her towards the studio door. She barely had time to pull the coat over her nakedness before he pushed her out the door.

The lock clanging shut behind her an exclamation point to her unspoken thought, 'Why didn't he want me?'

Noticing her dark surroundings and the draft between her legs, she snapped out of her dazed condition and quickly opened the car door, got in and locked it once inside. She sat there trying to comprehend. The strong smell of his sperm grabbed her attention. Fuck, she hadn't even had time to clean up. She couldn't go home like this.

Gobsmacked by the turn of events, she sat there motionless. Something wet on her cheek pulled at her thoughts. Absently she raised a hand to touch it. Pulling her finger away the substance came into focus. The wet creamy mixture smeared between her fingers, 'So different from Marc's, so much thicker, potent and virile,' she mused to herself. A primal understanding of its life-giving potential.

Vanessa didn't know why but she brought it to her lips and licked it. Then licked her lips, she did it again seeking more and soon she was scooping it off her body and shoving it in her mouth. The whole time her body buzzed with the thrill of doing something--so unlike her.

Later she rationalized her actions, 'It was the best way to remove the evidence.' Not once considering the tissues she had in her purse.

Conflicted Confession

The in-house cafeteria at EmberStone Press was a sleek but cozy space, filled with the scent of freshly grilled meats and vegetables. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the west wall, letting in soft afternoon light that spilled across the modern black-and-white tiled floor.

The tranquil space was a stark contrast to the howling storm of thoughts inside Vanessa. The events of the poker party played out over and over in her mind. Dave's cold dismissal after their intense encounter still stung, leaving her confused with an unfulfilled desire she couldn't shake.

The memory of his cum, warm and sticky on her skin, only added to her frustration. She had thought... Shit... She didn't know what she thought or expected for that matter, but his sudden distance was like a void, a loss she didn't understand. She checked her phone far too often, she guiltily thought, yet he'd not messaged her once, in the several days since.

As Vanessa walked through the cafeteria still reeling from the turmoil of her encounter with Dave, she noticed Mic Thompson, the company's Distribution Manager. He was sitting by himself, and seemed deep in thought--it reminded her of how she felt--conflicted.

Vanessa slid her tray of salad and tea onto the table across from him. He was pushing his food around the plate. His distant stare indicating something was weighing on him, she thought. Mic's usual jovial demeanor was replaced by a furrowed brow and a gaze into the abyss. Vanessa, sensing a kindred spirit in turmoil, ventured a cautious question.

"Hi, Mic. May I join you?" Vanessa smiled, hoping maybe she could ask him for some advice.

Mic started, his eyes blinked before focusing on her with a mixture of surprise and gratitude, he said, "Oh... uh, sure Vanessa. How are you?"

Mic looked across at his colleague. He'd always liked Vanessa, she had a reserved way about her that made her seem wiser than her age--an elegance that was hard to describe. But she also had a quiet energy that her youth provided, always cheerful and ready to pitch in when things got hectic. Those qualities along with her performance as a junior editor at EmberStone--had impressed a lot of people--including Mic.

Vanessa sat, took a sip of her tea and studied him for a moment before speaking, "I see you're wearing that 'sky is falling' mask again," she offered a warm chuckle. "Another crisis, like last month's shipping fiasco?"

Mic sighed, wringing his hands before shaking his head. "What? No... just some issues at home. Nothing major?"

Vanessa enjoyed Mic's company as a co-worker, he was like the rock at EmberStone, not yet 40 but always had solid advice for the three years she'd known him. "Hey it's okay if it's personal, but the look on your face says it's something more than nothing. I'll listen if you feel like venting."

Mic thought about it for a moment, could he trust her. Vanessa had always been kind to him, supporting his initiatives during staff meetings. Setting his fork down, he looked at her and in a low voice said. "I've... It's complicated... It's our new renter. She's... become a distraction."

Vanessa noticed his hazel eyes dart around the room, before he continued. "My mom... she needs nursing care we can't provide. We moved her to a nursing facility. Sam and I decided to rent out our guest bedroom, to offset the cost. The woman who moved in seemed nice enough at first, but... she's young and uh... attractive."

Having no desire to seem judgy, especially with her own glaring mistakes, "I see. And it's causing some friction with Sam, I take it?" Vanessa gently prompted, leaning forward, listening.

"No!!" Mic blurted, louder than intended, "It was Sam who suggested the idea of her moving in." He lowered his voice, "But, that's part of the problem. You can't tell anyone, especially Sam." Vanessa nodded in acknowledgment. They had a close working relationship, so it wasn't unusual to confide in one another, but usually it involved office politics--this felt different--like needing to bare his soul.

Mic sighed, "Monika... the renter... has been making, uh, overtures toward me. Little comments at first. Wears... revealing clothes. Then... more suggestive things." He looked away from Vanessa, staring out into space for a moment. "I... I don't know why I'm telling you this. It's just... I can't talk to Sam about it," he paused "I love Sam. I would do anything for her, but with the news of not being able to conceive, she's withdrawn, cooled off, if you follow."

Vanessa reached out and patted his hand in a friendly gesture, "I can tell you it's hard on a woman. Wanting children and not being able to have them. I was crushed when we found out last year that Marc couldn't produce... you know... fruitful swimmers," her heart squeezed at the loss she still felt. "But we talked it through and decided to make the best of it," she said, trying to reassure her work friend. "Give her some time. She'll snap back."

Mic took a deep breath and let it out, "You're right, it hit her pretty hard. I've done my best to be supportive." He paused and decided to tell her the sordid details, he needed to talk to someone about this before he went mad. Maybe Vanessa's opinion, as a woman, would provide perspective.

"But... it's affecting me as well," he hesitated, "I know how selfish that sounds, but Sam's pulled away, curtailed our intimacy," the words felt harsher than he'd intended. "Monika... her flirtations have been... I feel dirty even saying it," his pause spoke volumes.

"They've been an ego boost, you know. Makes me feel like a man again. I shouldn't entertain this... well whatever it is," the confession hung between them before he filled the silence. "Not that it matters. It's not like we can kick her out, she signed a year lease, and we need the money."

Vanessa paused, struck by the twinge in her own heart, a strange mix of empathy and envy. Here was a man, seemingly content in his marriage, grappling with unwanted attention, while she was drowning in a sea of conflicting desires. It did feel better that she wasn't alone in her struggles.

Vanessa gave him a sympathetic nod, taking a moment to consider her response, "Yeah. It's a tough spot to be in. It's... difficult," she said, her voice soft, "when someone wants something you can't or shouldn't give."

When he didn't stop her, she went on, "I mean it's natural to be tempted. This tenant sees a wiser, more experienced handsome older man and maybe she's picking up on the vibes--your needs not being met." At that moment she wasn't sure if she was describing Mic or Dave.

Giving him a reassuring smile, "It could be innocent, maybe she's just a natural flirt, have you set clear boundaries with her?"

Mic hesitated, "I... well, I think I have. But she's so insistent, won't take no for an answer type. Like the other day, Sam had already left for work and I was showering. The door was open, and I saw Monika out of the corner of my eye, watching me..." Guilt colored his cheeks, before he looked down at his plate again.

Vanessa gave him a pointed look, her voice barely more than a whisper, "And you let her watch..." Vanessa observed him struggle for an answer. She could picture it in her mind. Mic was an older man, but he was handsome for his age, strong build, chiseled jaw, intense hazel eyes when he spoke passionately about something. Of course this renter would fancy him, Vanessa thought.

In the silence, her attention drifted even farther. In her mind's eye, she saw Mic, not in the sterile office attire, but in a steamy shower, water cascading down his muscular frame. Vanessa imagined herself stepping into the spray, her hands tracing the contours of his wet skin, feeling the strong muscles underneath. Her lips brushing against his shoulder, licking his neck. Pressing her body against his, her hard nipples digging into his back, her hand reaching around his waist to fondle his dick. Stroking it to hardness, the bumpy texture caressing her fingers.

The mental image of Mic's mystery dick was replaced by Dave's cock, her hand touching Dave's warm testicles, wanting them to release their load of thick creamy semen. Knowing how powerful his blasts would be, how much she wanted to see it happen--again.

Mic looked down, couldn't even speak it, he gave a slight nod.

Catching herself about to moan at the imagery in her head and the pleasant warmth of her tingling pussy, Vanessa nearly missed Mic's nod of acknowledgment. So she wasn't the only one who felt the dark thrill of doing something so wrong.

"I.. uh.." Her throat thick with lust, Vanessa tried again, "Sorry, didn't mean that to come out judgy. I feel like I know exactly what you're going through. It's not easy when you're tempted to do the wrong thing, especially something so... naughty."

Mic's eyes met hers, a silent understanding passing between them in that moment.

"You know," Vanessa continued, her voice a conspiratorial whisper, "sometimes I wonder if giving in wouldn't be easier. Just... surrendering to the temptation."

Mic's brow furrowed deeper, "But at what cost? Guilt, shame... ruining what we have?"

"Trust me, I know. I've been struggling with blurred lines myself--so maybe I'm the last person who should give advice," she hesitated, swirling her drink, "But had you considered talking to Samantha? Delicately, of course." A guilty smile tugging at her lips, "I've seen how she looks at you during company outings. That woman adores you. She might surprise you with how understanding she could be. If she knew how it was affecting you." Vanessa said, wincing inside at the hypocrisy of her words. The advice she was terrified to take herself.

Mic exhaled, rubbing the stubble of beard on his jaw, "I don't know Vanessa. That's out there, I mean I know it happens, or at least heard of that kind of thing. I don't want to make things worse, I couldn't bear to lose Sam."

"I shouldn't be telling you this..." Vanessa stalled, her fingers tightening around her glass, "But I want you to know you aren't alone in... all of this."

She exhaled, the confession teetering on her tongue, "Marc, he... sometimes he isn't able to keep up with my urges. And I get it... it's frustrating." A brittle laugh escaped. "I've been struggling to find the right words to talk to him about it, but... I don't want to hurt him. I've reassured him, but he... the way he shuts down--I think he feels ashamed," Heat crept up her neck as she spoke, the intimacy of the admission prickling her skin. Yet beneath the embarrassment, Vanessa felt relieved to finally say it out loud... like lancing a blister she'd ignored too long.

Mic looked at her with quiet understanding before saying, "Yeah, I tried talking to Sam once. She asked if I was accusing her of not loving me enough. Was I going to leave her? She broke down in tears, so I dropped it and just hugged her, telling her I loved her."

Vanessa sighed, "It's an ugly truth to share with a spouse, that you've been so unhappy you've started fantasizing about strangers. It terrifies me, I don't want to lose Marc, but I don't know what will happen if we can't work through it."

Vanessa gave him a sad expression and said, "I'm sorry Mic, I shouldn't have dumped this on you, when you've got your own struggles. It's just nice to be able to talk to someone."

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, "No, it's okay. Seems like we both need to have a difficult conversation--where we tell them what we really need."

She stiffened. "And what if they can't give us that?" Vanessa said, looking down at her wedding ring, turning it absently.

They shared a look of understanding--an answer neither of them wanted to admit.

Vanessa took his hand in hers and squeezed it, her grip warm, letting it linger for a moment, "I hate to leave you like this," she murmured, "I've got a meeting, but... thank you. I hope getting it out helped, even a little. I'm here for support if you need it."

She picked up her tray to leave then turned back, giving him a wink, "Oh and mum's the word."

Mic nodded slowly, seeming to absorb her words, then called out over his shoulder "Thanks Vanessa."

---------------------

Vanessa walked back to her desk, she rolled the conversation with Mic around in her mind. It had felt good to confess her sins, to unload the weight of her guilt onto someone else--but why had she winked at Mic? She was never that bold in public. Things were changing inside her--faster than she could track.

What did it mean, had she unintentionally suggested to Mic that she would be willing to take care of his needs? Surely he wouldn't, right? The poker game had been days ago, but the memory of Dave's hands on her still burned--shameful and arousing all at once. Now she was fantasizing about Mic in the shower. It was so fucking complicated and messy.

And Dave... He was the worst kind of puzzle. Like he knew what buttons to push. The look he gave her, making her feel like she was the only woman on earth. The exquisite feeling of his cock rubbing against her, his teasing her by stretching her entrance with just the tip. If he hadn't stopped, she knew she would have begged him to take her--just like he'd said she would... Then he shut it all down and rushed her out of his studio. It was confusing.

That realization sent a shudder through her--part pleasure, part dread--coiling low in her core. The way Dave pushed her boundaries. Dominant. Deliberate. He wasn't just crossing lines; he was making her choose to step over them. Her decision. A devil's bargain, maybe, but she had a choice to walk away.

Except, why wasn't she walking away? Each encounter it got harder. The way he wanted her--hungered for her--was a drug Marc hadn't offered in months.

But like Mic said... at what cost?

She should take her own advice and talk to Marc. The thought iced her veins, cold fear gripping her heart. Would he even understand? Or would she watch his face crumple, another failure he couldn't fix?

Subtle steps, she decided, tracing the edge of her wedding ring. Test the waters, gauge his reactions. A fragile smile bloomed on her lips--she had to try and salvage some semblance of her marriage. Had to, before all was lost.

Her reflection in the office window surprised her: lips curved in a slight smile. For the first time in a month, she felt like a woman with a plan.

A Small Gesture, A Bigger Fear

Marc stood outside their home's door, the weight of the small gift bag, and a single rose, both felt heavier than they should. He had spent the day coding his company's latest app. Problem solving was something he was good at, monotonous at times, but consistent and he liked knowing what to expect from it.

Today had been different, while his fingers were parsing lines of code, his subconscious had been distracted. Thinking about Vanessa, their life together, and his conversation with Jordan. They hadn't really discussed the paintball incident, as he referred to it now, but he had decided to make an appointment with a doctor. If nothing else at least to rule out a medical issue.

Their lives had gone back to a version of normal. He reflected on the changes he noticed; her desire to change things up, about the way she seemed so energized lately--glowing even. How she'd started dressing differently, she seemed more attractive if that was possible. He knew he married up when she said yes. What he didn't understand was this need of hers, not completely. Didn't know if he even liked it, but he knew he didn't want to lose her. And that meant he had to be more receptive.

He steadied himself and pushed open the door.

Vanessa was in the kitchen, barefoot and dressed in shorts and one of his old T-shirts, stirring something on the stove. The smell of garlic and butter filled the air, and Marc smiled, thinking about how comfortable this felt, how much he loved their life--her, here, with him.

She turned and gave him a bright smile, "Hey, you're home early!"

Marc smirked, stepping forward "Surprise!!" He held out the rose and the small bag. "Was thinking about you today."

Vanessa blinked at his unexpected offering. She stepped closer, taking the rose and lifting it to her nose. The scent was sweet, his gesture even more so. "Marc... it's beautiful," her voice softened, touched by its implications.

"No, you're beautiful." He pointed at the rose, "That's a cheap imitation." He paused, then softly said, "I know things have been... different lately. But I'm listening. I'm trying." He shrugged, sheepishly, nudging the gift bag toward her.

Vanessa peeked inside, catching the golden glitter as she lifted out a delicate necklace--a tiny teddy bear charm dangling from it. Her breath caught. "Put it on me," she said, turning before he could reply.

She felt Marc's fingers brush her neck as he fastened the clasp. Vanessa reached for his arms, circling her waist, pulling him closer, pressing his hands against her stomach. "It's perfect," she sighed.

She felt the warmth of him holding her, sinking into it for a moment. Vanessa traced the charm with trembling fingers. The lump in her throat swelled. He was trying.

Then, just as quickly, the warmth of the moment flickered. Did she earn this? The thought crept in like shadows. Would he still hold me if he knew? Marc's effort was obvious--but was it obligation or fear? Did he really want to change? And would it be enough? She hated the doubt. Hated more that she'd tasted something else--awakened to something more--could she go on without her needs being fulfilled?

If she confessed these new desires, would he hate her? Would he embrace it? Would he even recognize her? The thrills hummed in her veins--the excitement of being desired, taken--but underneath it all, fear coiled tightly in her stomach.

Tears welled in her eyes. Her feelings were so tangled, she hated lying to him, but she didn't want to hurt him either. Marc deserved so much better. But did that mean she deserved less?

A tear escaped before she could catch it. Marc felt her tremble, a drop of warm liquid rolled across his knuckles, "Hey, are you okay? You crying?"

She swallowed the doubt, turned, and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Tears of joy. I love it. And I love you," she said into his chest, not wanting him to see the conflict in her eyes.

Marc exhaled, holding her close. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Let's eat, and then I'll show you how much." She rested her head against his chest, holding onto him--a beat too long, a fraction too desperate. The question throbbed in her heart. 'Why was life so cruel? Why couldn't Marc bring out the same passion in her that Dave had--like her skin was on fire, threatening to burn the world around them and make her beg for more?

Marc studied her for a moment in silence, like he could sense something more--something she wasn't saying--but he didn't push. This moment was enough for him.

Dave's Wicked Demand

Vanessa was finishing up the dishes from dinner, knowing Marc would be waiting for her upstairs. Her hand absently touched the teddy bear charm at her neck. A small smile tugged at her lips. He knew her. Knew how the sight of an unwashed pan or a crumb-strewn counter would nag at her long after bedtime.

Tonight, of all nights, she needed order. Needed to believe that if the kitchen was spotless, maybe--just maybe--the mess inside her could be contained too.

Her phone buzzed, and her heart began to race.

She heard it vibrating on the counter beside the sink. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. Each pulse ratcheted her feeling of dread. She knew without looking--Dave. Now, after a week of radio silence, he texts and at 9 in the evening?

A whirlwind of thoughts crossed her mind; Angry he'd taken so long to contact her. Shame that she had wanted his attention. Concern at what he would ask of her.

She'd have to talk to him, explain that he had to be reasonable. She should ignore it. Should pretend she was asleep, that her phone had died. Even as she debated what to do, her fingers had picked up the phone, thumb unlocking the screen to reveal his message.

Dave >miss me kitten?<

Vanessa >No<

Dave >bet you missed this< The text included a photo--it dominated the screen--the fat knob of his cock from above. Vanessa noted he'd timed the snap at the exact right moment--a huge glob of his cum arced up at the camera lens, a white trail connecting to his cock. The image was so visceral that she actually took a step back from the phone. Part of her grimaced at the lewd display, but a darker side wanted nothing more than to open her mouth and intercept it.

Dave >what's the matter, hand in your panties, can't type?<

Vanessa >NO! Getting ready for bed. What do you want?<

Dave >remember who you're talking to slut, i know your secrets. tonight you're going to be naughty for me. i want you to suck your hubby's dick, then ride him, when you cum, have him take photos of you.<

Vanessa >Why? I can't do that. He'll be suspicious of the photos. Do you want me to get caught? Be reasonable.< Her eyes widened at what he'd typed. There was no way she could do that, how would she even suggest it?

Dave >what's the problem? hubby's dick not enough for you? or would you rather it be mine you were riding? lol, make it happen. and i am being reasonable. send proof by midnight or you know what happens.<

Dave >and kitten, don't fake it, i'll know.< Vanessa huffed at that, the arrogant asshole. She had already started formulating how she could fake them--it was like he could read her mind.

Vanessa >Fine.<

---------------------

She gripped the edge of the counter, staring blankly at her phone's screen. Of course he'd ruin her moment to reconnect with Marc. But what could she do? The choices hadn't changed.

She thought she'd have more time, ease Marc into understanding her needs. But this demand changed everything. The weight of choice settled like a stone in her stomach. Marc wasn't ready for the truth, there would be fallout. He'd be angry. No--he'd leave her.

Vanessa leaned against the counter, her shoulders slumped. The worry and fear a constant struggle. But what gnawed at her conscience was knowing she'd have to carry this secret every day--an invisible anchor weighing on her. Even now, she could hear the justifications forming: 'I didn't mean for it to happen. He's making me do this. It's not as bad as it seems.' But in her heart, she knew. These weren't reasons--they were excuses.

The real question wasn't whether she could get away with her deceptions--but whether she could live with herself afterward. She'd fucked up in stellar fashion, trading the safe boredom of her life--for carnal satisfaction. And that was the dangerous part: she was warming to those dark thrills, craving the excitement like a carefully tended flame.

There were no clean exits now. No path to truth without someone hurting. Dave's demands wouldn't stop. It was a simple matter of who did the hurting. Marc's face flashed in her mind, his trusting eyes. She couldn't do that to Marc, he didn't deserve that pain.

She exhaled--a slow breath--as her fingers uncurled their grip from the counter's edge. The torment of her secret desires clashing with what was right and wrong. She sighed and walked up the stairs to their bedroom. Her feet, heavy with the burden of what she felt she had to do. The bedroom door stood ajar, a threshold between the woman she'd been and the one she was becoming.

---------------------

Vanessa hesitated in the doorway. It was like she was seeing the room for the first time--or perhaps she was memorizing it, preserving its sanctity before she defiled it. The walls painted a soft gray, giving the room a calming atmosphere, something she certainly didn't feel right now. Marc had the bedside lamps on, their warm glow pooling across the duvet.

Her gaze drifted to the large mirror spanning the length of one wall--one that Vanessa had insisted on having, meant for admiring her outfits. She caught herself in its reflection, she mentally compared the woman she saw with the photos from the boudoir shoot.

Even with a heavy heart, Vanessa couldn't help but chuckle to herself, when she saw Marc propped up on their king-sized bed, surrounded by soft sheets and fluffy plush pillows. He must have gotten bored, as he had the flat-screen TV on, watching some live play gamer stream.

The room wasn't extravagant, but it was theirs. A blend of technology and quiet comfort, and the life they had built together. Vanessa felt herself standing on the edge of something new--whatever happened from here on out, it would not be the same.

A flash of inspiration struck her, maybe all wasn't lost. Maybe she could turn this around. A spark of hope bloomed in her chest. She could put her plan in place starting now, see if Marc could accept the idea of her finding fulfillment elsewhere--with Dave. It was a dangerous game, she would need to be careful, to not push too hard.

Vanessa channeled the feelings she enjoyed from her photo session with Dave, wanting to be the confident, hot and sexy woman that those boudoir photos had demonstrated she could be.

She made a show of undressing, pulling her top off, revealing her pert breasts, then slowly shimmied out of her shorts and panties. She tossed her phone on the bed, and hid her annoyance behind a smile as Marc finally looked away from the TV--finally noticing her.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," she said with a coy smile. "Want to punish me for being tardy?" She crawled onto the bed, turning to offer him a view of her naked bottom.

Marc wrinkled his nose, "What? Of course not, come up here." Flipping back the covers inviting her to join him. He knew she was teasing but just the thought of causing her pain was repellant.

When he made no move to touch her, Vanessa turned over and laid next to him, drawing the covers further down. Marc lay there in his boxers, no spark of anticipation in his eyes, no telltale sign of an erection. Why isn't he hard? Wasn't she enough for him? Her confidence flagged, doubt seeping in. What did she do wrong? Why couldn't he appreciate her?

Her thoughts turned sour, the sting of rejection a dull ache in her chest. After all she did to take care of her body for him, and he couldn't be bothered to be turned on. Dave's cock got hard seeing her fully clothed, the sinful thought slipped into her brain, driving her mood closer to resentment.

She tried again, tugging at his boxers. "I thought you'd be getting ready for me," she said, looking down at his limp dick. "You need some help with the little soldier," Vanessa's voice teased him. She hadn't intended her statement as an insult, but the verbal irony made her clit throb.

"Sorry babe, I guess I'm just not feeling it tonight." Marc shrugged. He cringed inside, hoping she'd crawl under the covers for a snuggle and not make a big deal of it. She tried to hide it, but he caught the flicker of disappointment.

Vanessa wasn't giving up, she straddled his thighs, sitting back on her heels. "What's wrong baby? My naked body, not turn you on anymore, is that it?" she said, running her hands down her body, cupping her breasts, the firm flesh spilling between her fingers as she squeezed them. Hoping to entice his arousal.

Marc caught her look, of course he loved her body. "NO!! I mean yes..." He realized he was making it worse "Fuck... I just meant I'm not feeling in the mood right now. Long day at work, you know." His gaze swept over her body, "Of course I love your body. It's been a long day, thought we could just relax... watch some TV."

Vanessa saw the love in his eyes, the tenderness and adoration, but it was missing the spark of passion she urgently wanted right now. The desire to take her and make her scream with pleasure.

All the stress she'd been under, Marc's lack of attention. Vanessa snapped at him, "I've got needs Marc. It's practically been three weeks," her frustration fueling her outburst. "I'm sorry... I know things have been challenging lately. But I wanted to say thank you, to show my husband how thoughtful his gifts were--to make love to him." Her voice was soft, but laced with the tension of her growing irritation.

"I know, I'm sorry. Work's picked up. It's crunch season, stressing over the new app we are launching. How about we plan for Sunday--we're free, right? No plans?" Marc said, hoping that would mollify her for now.

Vanessa clenched her jaw, biting back the hurtful words wanting to escape. "Marc! This is what I'm talking about. I don't want to plan sex with you," each sentence measured, like she was holding back something much sharper on her tongue.

"I want us to be more spontaneous, mix things up, and be more adventurous. Maybe even try new things," her eyes pleading with him. Inside she was agitated--lack of sex was driving her, but she also had to accomplish her task for Dave--the consequences of failure too frightening to ignore.

Marc let out a slow breath, "I want to... I really do. But my body isn't cooperating." He wanted to say more, but would he see pity in her eyes? "I made... I know it doesn't help right now, but I made an appointment. To see a doctor about... you know," he said, his eyes darting to his lap.

The heat of frustration drained from her, replaced by creeping trepidation. She felt trapped between wanting to reassure him and not hurting him more profoundly. But she couldn't afford to waste time arguing, the clock was ticking. She shoved aside her concerns and smiled sweetly at him, "That's great news, baby. At least we will get some answers, right? But, maybe while we wait we could... try other remedies..."

She slowly knee walked up the bed, straddling his chest. Her fingers traced lazy circles on his chest, "You know, maybe we could motivate your little soldier in other ways." She knew it was a huge risk--it could backfire--but she had to try. "Baby, do you ever wonder what it would be like if we... played with someone else?" her voice dripped with playful innocence, her pulse quickening at the suggestive innuendo.

Marc's eyebrows shot up, her words hung in the air, a provocative question that made Marc's heart skip a beat. He turned his head to look at her, his fears clouding his expression with unease. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice cautious.

Vanessa smirked, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. She cupped his chin in her hand, her body leaning closer to his. "You know, roleplaying. Pretending you're someone else. Maybe it would help you... get in the mood." Her other hand drifted to his nipple, her touch light but deliberate, as if testing the waters.

Marc's eyes widened at her suggestion, "Vanessa, that's not funny. Why would you suggest something like that?"

"Marc, I'm not saying for real," her smirk widened, her eyes glinting with a mixture of desire and challenge. "I've been doing some reading and they say sometimes," she made a point of looking behind her, before continuing, "it's a mental thing. I thought we could roleplay, pretend you're someone else, take the pressure off."

Before he could answer, she wiggled her hips forward, "Would you at least try for me?" Vanessa pinned Marc's arms beneath her legs, "Be a good boy and lick me with that marvelous tongue while I tell you what happened when I got home today."

She grabbed his head and drove her pussy onto his face, "Mmmhmmm... that's it. Feel how wet I am." Her movements were so quick, Marc was caught off guard. One minute they were arguing the next she's rubbing her pussy up and down his face. 'She could be aggressive sometimes, but tonight she was on another level,' he thought.

As his tongue came out to lick her sweet juices, her words sank in. He had been letting her down. He realized he needed to do something to make it up to her, so he lavished her lips with his tongue, before sucking her clit into his mouth. Hearing her moan her approval every time he flicked his tongue across her sensitive button, encouraged him to at least listen. Would it be so bad to pretend, if he could satisfy her needs?

"When I got home today," Vanessa rested her hips and let Marc use his sweet tongue to pleasure her, "Jake was mowing the lawn. You remember him, the neighbor's son? He was home from college," she moaned as Marc's tongue slid inside her. "Jake stopped the mower and walked over saying hi, telling me how pretty I looked in that pink sundress you bought me. I was placing my keys in my purse so I could shake his hand and I dropped them right at my feet. Jake was a gentleman and stooped down to pick them up for me."

"I had the worst luck today, or maybe it was the best. Anyway, just as he was looking up to hand them back to me, a gust of wind lifted the hem and my dress had settled over his head. Oh, Marc I was so embarrassed, Jake's head was trapped under my dress and I'm sure he could see my panties, his head was mere inches from them..."

Marc's breath hitched, his body responding to her story, he could feel blood flowing to his dick. "What... happened next?" he said. He wasn't sure why but knowing his wife was hot, made him feel proud that others thought so too.

Vanessa's head tilted back as she sighed her pleasure. Her lips curved into a triumphant smile. She knew Marc was getting into her fantasy, his tongue digging deeper.

"Uhh... oh my... I don't know if I can describe it... Yes right there baby," she purred. "Maybe I should just show you," her breaths shortened as Marc jolted her clit with his tongue. Vanessa chased the orgasm rising within, bucking her hips as she sought more contact.

Her movements slowed, a wicked desire caught her attention and took hold. She grabbed the hair on his head and ground her pussy onto his face with one hand, reaching for her phone, hidden within the folds of the comforter, with the other.

Marc felt trapped under her hips, light headed as Vanessa squeezed her thighs together, mashing her lips against his mouth. She had a devious grin on her face as she raised the phone up and snapped a picture of him eating her.

Watching him grow red, she eased up so he could breathe. Teasing him was so exciting, she couldn't resist, "Fuck Jake, maybe I should drop my keys more often," she reveled in the shocked look on Marc's face, but she also felt his firm dick rubbing against her ass.

"What the hell, Va...." Marc gasped before she squeezed her thighs again, grinding her clit against his nose. "What?" she said, feigning innocence, "You wanted to know what happened next. Let me finish my story and I might let you finish in my mouth. You know how much I hate that," she grinned down at him.

Giving life to her fantasy, speaking it out loud--a switch had flipped inside her. She didn't want plans, she wanted wild hot sex--tonight, this night--she wasn't going to be denied. Gone was any notion of an unwilling participant in Dave's sick game. Her hunger, Marc's inadequacy, her repressed frustrations all served up the perfect storm to fuel her desire to do what Dave asked.

She felt a dark thrill ignite in her chest, small but growing as each wicked thought took hold. The power of it all was making her wetter than Marc's tongue could possibly hope to achieve.

Reaching behind her, Vanessa grazed his firm dick with her nails. "See baby, you just needed a little spice to get you nice and hard. I think you like role-playing..." She said as she languidly shimmied her body down his, leaving a wet trail of her dripping lust.

"You... almost suffocated me!" Marc rasped, his breath coming in ragged gasps, eyes wide.

"Shush... I have more to tell you," Vanessa whispered, taking hold of his dick, she swept it through her folds, getting it wet with her juices and then settled it on her opening, teasing herself with it. Unbidden Dave's big cock sprang into her mind. "Mmmhmm. That's what I need," she moaned, laying down across his chest, licking her juices off Marc's face with long swabs of her tongue.

"Damn, Vanessa..." Marc gasped, turning his head, trying to get a word in between her licking his face and kissing him. "What's gotten into you?"

Vanessa trapped his head, kissed him hard, her tongue licking his lips before pulling back. "Jake's tongue made me really horny, baby," she replied, as she eased the crown of Marc's dick just inside her taut entrance.

"Jake ran his hands up the back of my legs, not stopping until his big hands groped my ass. Gosh baby, I was so aroused, I bet he could smell my heat, could see the stain spreading over my panties. He growled at me and pulled me towards his mouth. Uhn... Marc I wanted him... mmmhmm... to bury his face between my legs, use that big, fat tongue to get me off..."

Her knees pressed into the mattress next to Marc's hips, her breasts swaying temptingly across his vision. "But I was a good wife, baby. I asked him what he was doing, that I was married. I smoothed my dress down, his face revealed from under it. He offered me my keys and asked if he could slide into my DM's," she said with a demure smile.

"You should have seen the way he looked at me with those wolfish eyes, so full of hunger. I think he wanted to slide into something else, don't you?" She said sultrily, feeling Marc's dick twitch inside her, as he gripped her hips more tightly, trying to drive deeper into her.

Vanessa lifted her hips, teasing him by denying what he sought, "Hmmm, You do, don't you? Want to spice things up even more?" her voice thick with lust, "Let's pretend shall we? Pretend your Jake and be naughty with me?"

The conflict raged within him--the jealousy warring with how naughty her story was. Marc's throat worked as he tried to swallow, his gaze flicked between her sweet dirty lips and the desire burning in her eyes.

"You are full of surprises Vanessa," Marc closed his eyes, her words--a siren's call--pulling him toward a chasm he wasn't sure he wanted to cross, but her touch, her scent, her body moving against his--the temptation was too hot to resist.

"Oooh, that's so wrong Jake, call me Mrs. Carter." She cooed at Marc, getting into her role. Marc couldn't fathom why but her fantasy talk had him as rigid with need as he'd ever been, he grabbed her roughly and thrust up into her--he was done with the teasing.

"Jake!" she squealed, "Uhn that's not my DM's you're sliding in... oh we shouldn't, what would my husband think?" Images of their neighbor's kid popped into Marc's mind out of nowhere. The scrawny kid checking out his hot wife, wishing he was here now bending her over. Marc surrendered to the taboo and embraced the fantasy, "Fuck... who cares, your husband can wait his turn."

Vanessa gasped at her husband's outburst, that wasn't the pimply faced neighbor's kid, no, that was something Dave would bark at her. Just the thought of Dave roughly taking her, telling her husband to wait his fucking turn, had her on the edge of ecstasy. Then she remembered her dream--Marc tied to a chair watching..."nghnn... mmmhmmm," It elevated her impending release with how depraved it all seemed.

Vanessa could sense Marc was close, she couldn't let that happen, not yet. "Slow down Jake. Make it last," she breathed, coming to a halt on top of him. "Make me cum first, or no treat for you," she said, wagging her finger at him.

Once Marc stopped thrusting, she gently rocked her hips back and forth, enjoying the pressure of grinding her clit on his pubic bone. "Mmhmmm, don't move, getting there."

Marc was so close, but he didn't argue, she was right, he craved to finish in her mouth. She always told him it was gross, the taste of semen disgusting to her. For her to make that offer meant something special to him. He gritted his teeth and started thinking about prime numbers, coding problems, anything to distract him--he wanted that treat.

Despite his efforts, her orgasm was back to a medium simmer, Marc's rush to completion a minor annoyance. She had a fantasy of her own, to stoke the flames. Could Dave go all night--pound her into submission with his huge cock? Vanessa could see it in her mind, replaying the poker game, he'd been so close to doing just that--taking her.

"Oh fuck... uh... yes... D..." the moans slipped out, Dave's name nearly escaping with it. And like that from a simmer to white hot heat, the thrill of almost saying Dave's name... All the teasing, the dark taunts, the secrets she held, "Uhn... Damn college boys, young, dumb and so full of... oh... FUCK YES! Argh nnhhh... Cumming!"

That was the trigger she'd needed--Dave's huge cock. The tension that had coiled inside her burst in glorious ecstasy--a tsunami of electrical pleasure tightened her muscles, seized her mind and fragmented her nervous system with its intensity.

Blinking, her senses coming back to her, she rested back on his thighs and let out a long ragged sigh. She so wanted to relax and bask in the warm glow of release, so it took every ounce of her will, to lift off Marc's dick--she still needed to take pics--for Dave.

Quickly she leaned over finding her phone and toggled photo mode on the lock screen. Turning to the side mirror, she framed herself and snapped a few shots--then a few more. Admiring herself in the mirror. Dave was right, she was a sexy woman, she couldn't explain it but it felt so good in the moment, looking at her naked body, resting on Marc's legs. The only thing missing was Dave's huge cock stuffing her pussy. It was such an erotic thrill, doing this without Marc knowing why--a mini-orgasm rippled through her, adding to her euphoria.

Marc looked up at her with a pained expression. His brow furrowed, his nose crinkled, "Why'd you stop? What's with the pics?" She gave him a coy look, "It felt sexy, naughty even. Maybe I'll send them to my husband," smirking at Marc and flashing a wink.

"You know, Jake, maybe you should take some photos of this hot body--to jerk off to. But promise me you won't show them to your buddies... wouldn't want them to know you're fucking a married woman," she grinned, her voice laced with faux concern.

Caught up in the fantasy, Marc leered back at her, oblivious to her intentions, and grabbed the phone from her. "Oh, I'll show them alright," he said, his tone playful, "They'll be jealous as hell that I nailed the neighbor's hot wife."

As Marc snapped photos of her, she played with her tits and rubbed her clit. Vanessa's body trembled from the perverse knowledge of why Marc was taking the photos. The thought alone made her whole body shiver.

Breaking character for a moment, Vanessa took the phone from him and teased, "Maybe we should delete these," savoring the thrill of taunting Marc. "Wouldn't want your co-workers to see them," she slowly pressed down, letting his dick slide between her wet folds.

Tempting fate, Vanessa wanted to see how far she could push this, see if it excited him. "I mean, Jordan's already seen my ass and tits... do you think he'd like seeing the rest of my naked body?" she could feel Marc's hips buck against her, "Ooh I felt that... does that turn you on Marc? You want to share my naked body with other men?"

Marc couldn't believe how different Vanessa was tonight. Nor how hard he was. Why had he felt his dick surge when she said that? Did he want Jordan to see her naked body? His thoughts were distracted by her gracefully moving her body so that her mouth hovered over his straining dick, teasing him with her eyes, her lips forming a perfect circle to receive his dick.

"You didn't answer, baby. That turn you on, sharing your hot wife's body?" Before he could think to answer, Vanessa lowered her head and licked up his dick.

"Wha... Nhh... Fuck yes!" Marc groaned as Vanessa easily popped all of his dick into her mouth. She sucked on his shaft like it was a straw in her favorite drink. He groaned at her retreat when she slid her moist lips up and off his dick and smiled up at him, "Yummy... you like that idea." She licked her tongue around the head of his dick and blew hot breath across its tip.

Marc was in pure heaven, 'She may not like going down on me, but she was really good at it,' he thought as she took him back into her mouth. Her wet lips bobbing up and down on his dick, feeling the ridges on the roof of her mouth rub him just right.

Vanessa knew he was getting close by his erratic thrusting. She could feel his balls contracting as she toyed with them. She focused on the head, hearing him groan as she flicked her tongue over his slit, sucking on the sensitive ridge underneath the head. With Marc's eyes closed tight, she maneuvered her phone to covertly take a few pics of Marc in her mouth--for Dave.

Feeling Marc's dick throb in her mouth, she mused there was no comparison really--she didn't want to admit it but--Dave's cock was better. It was thicker, longer, so powerful, so unlike Marc's. She'd never desired to compare him before, she'd always been happy with their sex life--when he was in the mood. But now having been exposed to--bigger--she couldn't help but think about it, be tempted by it.

Vanessa moaned at the thought, causing humming vibrations on Marc's dick--she wished it was Dave's cock right now. She'd let him cum in her mouth. Wicked tendrils of lust overtook her and she felt her heat rising again. Vanessa wanted to tease him more, plant a few more suggestions... just as she pulled his dick from her mouth she heard Marc grunt.

Marc couldn't hold it any longer, he felt the cum rush up his shaft and erupt. "Ohhh... Unhhh!" he explosively uttered. He watched as his semen splattered upon her closed lips and fell back down on his wilting dick. He didn't get his treat, was the thought that briefly washed across his brain, before the endorphins swallowed his consciousness like soft balls of cotton.

Marc's eyelids grew heavy, but before sleep took him, the thought escaped his lips--thin and weary, "Was any of that true?"

Vanessa's response floated back to him--light as a shrug in his muffled mind, "All of it, mostly... Jake's definitely home from college."

He felt the bed dip as she got up, heard the bathroom door click shut. Marc should have pressed for clarity, but exhaustion swallowed him whole.

---------------------

She walked to the bathroom, first to grab a wash cloth and wipe the semen from her face, the bleachy smell causing bile to rise in her throat.

As the endorphins relaxed her body, she tossed the wash cloth into the hamper. She brushed her teeth, her mind already racing ahead. She hadn't really planned to test Marc's thoughts about her with other men, but the seeds had been planted, and now it was only a matter of finding out if they bore fruit.

Marc had seemed into it--at least he'd stayed erect--thinking it was all just dirty talk, but Vanessa knew better. She was playing a dangerous game now, but if Marc could be convinced to give his blessing it was worth the risk in her mind.

Glancing at her phone on the counter, her mouth opened in alarm, 'Shit 11:59' she realized. She opened her phone, quickly navigated to the photo album. She didn't have time to look closely at the photos or choose a good one. She selected three at random, copied them, opened her text message with Dave, pasted the photos and typed "Happy", then hit send.

She waited for a reply, fidgeting for another four minutes. 'Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!', she said over and over in her mind as she stared at the time displayed next to her text '12:01'

When there was no hint of a reply Vanessa's heart sank, was her world about to crash down upon her...