Wife for the Promotion Pt. 01

The Wife for The Promotion Pt 1

By René St Claire

*** If you like this story, and want to see part 2, write me a comment. If I get enough interest, I will write another based on this series. If you like my style and want more of it, I also have a book available; the link is in my bio.***

Part 1

"I want to fuck your wife." The CEO said.

"You can make Partner here, you have a bright future. Think very carefully about what I am asking you."

The words stuck like a claw in Joel's throat... This is how it all happened.

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Joel van Tonder worked as a project manager in alternative energy; with a background in electrical engineering, specialising in alternative power sources - he had what appeared to be the dream job at Imvula - managing projects that sought answers to the world's growing coal concern. Joel was a smart man, very knowledgeable in his area; but when it came to conversation out of his area of expertise, he was definitely out of his comfort zone. In his mid-thirties, he is in ok shape, not fat, but not athletic either - and it is at this age he is starting to take check on where he belongs in the scheme of things.

Meg, his partner, was the type wife most men admired, and found themselves staring at, but few could say why. Meg had the kind of presence that didn't announce itself, but still caused people to take a second look as she walked by. Her features were pretty--a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a copper bob that framed her pale skin like fire against porcelain. Her eyes were the real weapon: ice-blue, unblinking, like they'd already seen the worst of you and decided whether or not you were worth the effort.

In public, she wore confidence like a tailored jacket--well-fitted, functional, slightly deceptive. As a sales rep in pharmaceuticals, she could charm a medical executive or steer a difficult doctor without breaking rhythm. But that wasn't who she was. She had presence in her job because the role demanded her to. Captivating doctors in a less than 10 minute time frame was essential for her success - but it was a learned skill.

At home, Meg melted into quiet corners, to recharge from her day of expressing a bubbly personality. She moved softly, with the comfort of someone who didn't need to prove anything. She preferred old T-shirts and thick socks to heels, books over banter, and wine poured in silence. She had the kind of stillness that could disarm loud people--because she was always watching, and mostly, they had no idea. She was not judging them; but collecting tid bits of information about their personality. Meg noticed the things people tried to hide. And more dangerously, she remembered the things they didn't say.

They had been married six years. Comfortable, mostly. No children. No loud fights. Both of them somewhat happy to be quiet, but with the difference Meg could adapt her personality to the given situation, Joel could not. While things were amicable between them, there was no great passion anymore, just a rhythm--shared bank accounts, weekend wine tastings, sex once a fortnight if the mood was right. Always familiar. Always safe. A little beyond what room mates are.

Joel never asked her about the dreams she didn't share, and she never asked him if he felt like less of a man since taking the job under Bhekizizwe Khumalo (Bheki)--a job he'd wanted, but the challenges, the people management, the expectations on client deliverables - all seemed to hollow him out one month at a time. He had great technical expertise, and that was keeping him in the game - it was communicating the issues to the client that dragged him down. So, he wasn't failing. But he wasn't rising either. Not the way the someone with his skillset should be.

Still, Meg stayed - she still cared for him deeply. Woke early. Paid bills on time. Let him have sex with her when the mood grabbed him on a lazy Sunday morning. But she would be lying to herself if she said she didn't want more. There had to be more than this to married life - she wanted passion! Adventure! To be desired, to be ravished, to be fucked until she was hoarse from moaning and could be barely breathe, and barely move.

Things took a turn at the launch party three weeks ago. Meg wore that dark green dress--the one that clung low at the back, soft silk against her pale, freckled skin--paired with black heels that added inches, extended her posture, carved her into something almost statuesque. She didn't usually do entrances, didn't like the fuss of spectacle--but tonight, she wanted to be seen. Not as Joel's wife. Not as another competent woman in sales. But as a woman. Entire. Intentional. Dangerous.

She was noticed.

Bheki watched her. Not like a boss. Not even like a man. Like a connoisseur. Like someone who could see through the dress, through the laugh, through the practiced social charm and into the darker, quieter things she didn't name out loud. He watched her while shaking hands with investors. While clinking glasses with the board. While telling stories, signing deals, owning the room. He never once looked flustered. He didn't have to. He owned stillness the way other men owned noise.

Still, some part of her understood the shape of the game. Bheki had a reputation known, never spoken outright--that he didn't chase women. He hunted wives. Not out of cruelty. Out of taste. He preferred what was already chosen by someone else. It was cleaner, somehow. No strings. No mess. Just appetite disguised as discretion. Maybe, this is what Meg needed - some hot side-action, with no strings attached. Unadulterated sex where both were in it for the sheer carnal delight - minus the mess of connection.

And Meg knew he'd seen her, she felt in her chest, in her bones. Knew he was watching. But what she didn't know--couldn't have known--was just how deeply she'd disrupted him.

She felt it, though. In her chest. Beneath the bones. That deep, excitement felt in the gut, experienced when being looked at by a man who already knew the weight of his gaze. It stirred something that hadn't been touched in a long time--not by routine sex, not by Joel's gentleness, not by her secret fantasies.

It was danger that drew her. Not lust. Power. Curiosity.

So, she set it up.

When Joel leaned in toward a colleague who finally spoke his language--deep technical jargon she couldn't fake interest in--she let her hand brush his arm, just enough to say, stay here. Then she moved across the room, letting the green silk shift across her hips with the right kind of slowness.

She didn't go directly to the terrace. She paused first at the edge of the dance floor. Reached for a second glass of wine. Pretended to laugh at something no one said. Then she turned slightly--just enough for Bheki to see her bare back, the shape of her shoulder blade, the fine line of her neck--and slipped outside.

She didn't look back. She didn't have to.

He followed.

The party was loud--half Imvula execs and their partners, half clients--but out on the terrace, the night was deliciously quiet. The city lights shimmered across Sandton like a dropped necklace, blinking gold and white across dark glass towers. The scent of blooming jasmine drifted up from the landscaping below. The terrace was empty. The real action was inside, where the wine flowed and the chatter didn't stop.

Meg leaned forward, resting her elbows on the stone balustrade, wine glass tilted in her fingers. The air touched her skin, cool and grateful. She was already aware of him before he spoke.

"You don't like crowds," Bheki said behind her, his voice low and unhurried.

She didn't turn at first. Just smiled to herself. Then: "I like people. Just not all at once."

He stepped up beside her, close--but not touching. Not yet. "You watch the room like a tactician," he said. "You know where everyone's standing. Who's faking. Who's hunting."

She smiled, sipped. "Sales makes you observant."

"No," he said. "This isn't sales. It's instinct."

He looked down at her, his profile carved in shadow and light. His presence was strong, like gravity. She didn't move away. Her skin had already begun to register the heat of him.

"Does Joel know how much of you hides behind the work?" he asked, still watching the skyline.

She turned to face him fully now. "I don't hide. I just don't perform for everyone."

He reached out then, casually--fingers brushing a freckle near the top of her spine, exposed by the low dip of her dress. Just the edge of a touch, but she didn't flinch. He let his hand rest there a second too long. A thumb moving slowly, like tracing the history of her skin.

"Your skin drinks light," he said. "It makes you hard to forget."

She should've stepped back. She didn't.

Instead, she tilted her chin up. "You watch everyone like you're building a file."

"I am," he said. "But I don't need notes on you."

The silence after that stretched. Not uncomfortable--charged with sexual energy. They were tethered by tension that neither of them bothered to cut.

She finished her wine and set the glass on the edge of the balustrade. His hand drifted to her waist now, the fabric of her dress the only barrier. Not groping--anchoring her in place with will, not force. The subtle art of being possessive in its stillness.

"Do you always touch married women like this?" she asked.

He smiled, eyes on hers now. "Only when they don't stop me."

Her heart kicked against her ribs, sharp and real. For a half-second, she let herself imagine saying something reckless. His hand travelled around to her abdomen, still - she didn't stop him. Bekhi saw this as a green light - he gently grazed his fingertips around her waist, moving them down below, grabbing her tight butt, massaging it.

Meg had never felt so alive - so naughty - so excited. Her eyes met his, Bekhi can immediately see the glimmer in them, the glint of pure desire. He knows he can take what he wants, what he needs. He spins her, leans her over the balustrade; she doesn't resist; she wants to resist, but at the same time she can't. She is his.

She hears his pants unzip, he lifts her dress, pulls her panties to the side; his fingers enter her first, using some of her juices to lube the inner folds of her pussy lips, to ease his entrance. He feels electric, her body shudders as he explores the forbidden passageway that is meant only for her husband. What if someone comes out? She thinks - scared for the moment - but what if they don't?

"Someone will see." Meg says, gasping under his touch.

"Shhhh." Bekhi puts a finger to her mouth to quieten her; she is further aroused by the sweet smell of her womanhood on his ample fingers.

Bekhi's 10 inch manhood is throbbing to get into this married white pussy. He wishes he had more time to appreciate her properly - but at the same time he is loving stealing her in a crowded party - where her husband is blissfully unaware just 20 mtres away - where they could be caught any minute. The CEO with his monster cock buried deep in the wife of one his workers - what a scandal it would cause. But what excitement it is stirring in him now.

He places his dick between her flaps; the eye resting against the opening of her velvet tunnel - he sees her tense, take a gasp, and then goose bumps form on her exposed skin. She was like putty in his hand, and he knew he could have her however he wanted.

Impatiently, she pushes back against him, wanting to feel him inside her - wanting to break that sacred seal that still said she was Joel's wife. Right now, all she wanted was to feel the massive meat of Bekhi pressing against her uterus.

Bekhi pushes in; she gasps at the feeling of his girth, having never had someone that big. Joel's penis certainly did not prepare her for this. As his head pops through, she lets out a pleasured whimper; automatically opening her legs wider, and bending deeper to ease his entrance. He gently pushes in deeper - until he feels she can take no more - then slowly withdraws. Normally he would be slower in a white woman, but time was not his friend, and he had an innate need to full this married pussy with his seed. He pushes in again, and she braces against him, this time feeling the tightness of her fleshy vagina open in depths she had yet experienced; that he was first to conquer.

The pleasure she felt from the immense size splitting her open and hitting her deep was unimaginable. She orgasmed on his second pump, creating more cunt juice to lube her enough to be defiled properly by this monster cock. The feeling of the head of his penis hitting her cervix birthed an orgasm so big that hit her so deep that she almost screamed in delight.

Bekhi was pounding her with a steady hard rhythm, he is almost balls deep with every thrust, and his aching shaft was reacting to the milking action of Meg's pussy as it pulsated in pleasure.

He got it all the way in, he was balls deep in this gorgeous red head in front of him. "This girl can really fuck!" He thought to himself as he pulled all the way out, leaving her snatch momentarily empty; before driving himself all the way in again, making a delicious squelching sound on impact.

Bekhi was about to hit top gear...

Then a door opened somewhere inside, laughter spilled out, and the moment cracked like glass underfoot. He pulled out in one motion and moved to the side, next to Meg on the railing. He discreetly zipped himself up, as Meg did her best to rearrange her saturated G-string. She had the best most intense fuck of her life and he was only half way done.

"We need to finish this." Bekhi whispered.

"Yes - we do." Meg said, not wanting the moment to end.

She stepped away, just one step, eyes still on him. "You should go back in first."

He didn't argue. Just looked at her like he already knew something Joel didn't.

When she re-joined their table, she was a different woman. In those precious few moments she had been exposed to a world she could not let go of. Would not let go of. She had been opened like a blooming flower, and her universe had shifted.

As she sat down, Joel had felt it--the shift in mood, the shift in energy. He was not a perceptive man at all, but the change was so vast that even he could feel it. It was confirmed by the way her body sharpened ever so slightly when Bheki approached. Meg seemed captivated, she wanted his attention. While he was talking to Joel his hip brushed up on her shoulder, Meg didn't move, Bekhi did not either.

"Come see me Joel. I have an exciting project that you are perfect for! It will turbo-charge your career."

"Yes, sir!" Joel said excitedly.

Bekhi stayed and made light conversation. Meg, who usually hated small talk, seemed captivated. When he made a joke, she laughed a little too hard, and he rested his hand on her arm for just a little too long. Joel never said anything. Didn't know how to. What confused him most was in the way his body responded to it, why it made him so hard, to see his wife flirt with his boss.

The rest of the night was a blur for both of them. Meg sensed Joel saw something - but she quickly dismissed that as crazy - Joel is blind to anything that is not either sports or engineering. Meg was wrong. They both unknowingly shared a similar infatuation that night: Meg with Bekhi. And it created a burning ache deep within both of them.

After they left and got to the car, Meg was on him, straddling him in the passenger seat. Kissing his neck grabbing his dick through his trousers. "I saw the bulge in there - it turned me on - I have to have it now! Give it to me." She whispered in his ear as she kissed his neck.

Joel strained against his pants, he had never seen her like this - so passionate, so forthright, so alive with lust. He kissed her back with desperation, with abandon, hungrily seeking her tongue, intertwining it with his, entering and exiting her mouth. He massaged her perky tits through her green gown, reminding him how much he loved them, wanting to get to her milky flesh and massage her hard nipples. She pulled away for a second to unzip her dress, and unclasp her bra, ripping it off and throwing it in the back seat of their Grey Ford Ranger. She pulls Joel's head to her chest, where Joel eagerly takes the erect strawberry coloured nipple in his mouth to gently suck and nibble on it. With his other hand he places it up under her dress - her white lace panties were soaked through, her pussy lips swollen and open - he had never felt her so wet before. He pushed her panties aside, ran his finger up and down her saturated slit, before placing it into her hot, wet, throbbing cunt. She moaned in delight as she felt his finger roughly exploring her, all the while working her nipple in and out of his mouth.

Joel unzipped his pants and freed the dick that had been straining against his zipper. Mag manoeuvred herself, so that her pussy was sitting over the top of it, the head of his uncut cock pressed lightly against her flower - aching to pierce through to be bathed in her sumptuous juices that existed on the other side of her pink pussy lips.

Meg dropped down - enveloping his shaft with ease - immediately noticing the size difference between Joel and Bekhi. Joel noticed something as well; her cunt was wetter than normal, more open than usual; he rationalised that it was because she was so horny for him. Little did he know that the reason her snatch felt different was because less than an hour ago, she had 10 inches of African man meat in her. A black penis that was as thick as a can of Red Bull; that could hit her deeper, and stretch her further, that Joel's penis could dream of.

That thought made Meg lean further and grind her clit against Joel's pubic bone - the sensation made her twerk hard and fast; moving at such a speed and a force that Joel had to let her take charge of the action. She climaxed as she thought of Bekhi pounding her from behind, his large hands holding her hips in place; the head of his python smashing against her cervix - coupled with the feeling in her clit. As she finished she let out a low moan.

She wanted size, she wanted to feel stretched. She leant back against the dashboard to create some space between her and Joel; she brought her legs around so that they were up and either side of Joel; giving him full view of his dick sitting in her swollen pussy. He looked at her perplexed; he had no idea what she was planning with this position - but at the same time he loved what he saw.

At first, she rubbed her clit, as Joel moved in and out of her. She then looked him in the eyes and licked her finger; before inserting into her cunt, along the top wall of her vagina, on top of his cock.

"What are you doing?" Joel asked - a little confused.

"I want to feel stretched." She panted. Then quickly corrected: "I want to feel tight for you." She lied.

Joel noticed that what she did with the finger did make her feel tighter. And, watching her finger go in and out of herself while in rhythm with his strokes was hot as hell.

Meg was imagining that this was Bekhi in her - his long, fat, black, cock; was stretching her - threatening to tear her. She slipped a second finger in her pussy, making sure she was hitting her G-spot as she coordinated her strokes with his pumps. Thinking of Bekhi, his strong black hands massaging her breasts, moving up to hold her shoulders to force her down so he could insert himself deeper into her hungry cunt; breaking new ground in the depths of her womanhood, threatening to split in her 2. She screamed in orgasm and flooded his dick with her cascading juices.

"Beh.... Joel!" She screamed.

This was too much for Joel; he pushed in as hard as he could - she felt him grunt and shoot his load deep in her. He noticed, but he wasn't sure what to say about it.

"That was amazing Meg!" Joel said. "What got into you?" he added; maybe half knowing the answer.

Meg could hardly say that it was prime African meat that got into her; so, she just gave him a kiss on the forehead and lied: "It was seeing that bulge in your pants, of course!"

"Oh, you saw that." Joel answered, blushing over getting an erection at the sight of his dear wife flirting with his boss.

"I did." She said with a knowing smile.

That little sexcapade was repeated in the car many times. Each time, Meg would insert her fingers while Joel fucked her. Sex took on a whole new dimension for them, and Joel loved it. But for Meg - she wanted more - she had a taste of Bekhi and she wanted him badly.

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Now, standing in the lift on the way up to the executive floor of Imvula Energy Solutions, Joel tried to shake the feeling. He wasn't sure what Meg had done - if anything. But the way she wanted to have sex now, made him thinks she was capable of more than she let on. There were moments she looked at him like she'd already imagined a different life and hadn't decided whether she missed it or not. When she looked at Bekhi her eyes told a far more powerful story - a story of hunger.

The glass tower of Imvula Energy Solutions rose like a blade above the sprawl of Sandton. On good days, Joel could forget the history buried beneath the pavement. On bad days, it hummed beneath his skin like static. But this morning, it was all crisp light and filtered air as he stepped out of the lift into the executive level--half a minute early, blazer neat, jaw tight.

The receptionist looked up with the flick of mascara-heavy lashes. Blonde, early twenties, legs crossed at the knee with her skirt hitched just a little too high for corporate standards, and a blouse unevenly done at the top. The air around her smelled faintly of coconut and sex. She offered a slow, lip-glossed smile, playing the part of the receptionist - like she knew her job was safe. Joel knew this to be true, he had heard the rumours of how she earnt her bonuses.

"Joel," she said, voice syrupy and bored. "Bheki will see you now."

Joel nodded, not looking long. She was married, he remembered vaguely--husband in IT, or maybe logistics--but then again, Bheki had a way with women, especially the ones who belonged to someone else. He loved sex, hated the mess of emotions, and found other men's wives easier--more discreet, more thrilling. He liked the illusion of boundary, the flavour of betrayal without the fallout - most importantly, he loved the absolute power it had over his employees. He effectively rammed his alpha status down their throats - via their wives cunts.

Joel passed through the heavy glass doors at the end of the hall.

The office was wide, framed by two tall fiddle-leaf figs in iron pots. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around three sides, offering a panoramic view of Sandton's hard glamour--steel, concrete, money. Persian rugs softened the polished concrete, a long teak conference table sat off to one side, and on the back wall, a line of black-and-white photographs--Zululand landscapes, freedom fighters, jazz musicians, old men with stories in their eyes.

Just off-centre, near the windows, sat a low, dark leather couch--handsome, worn in, slightly too relaxed for the otherwise sharp decor. Joel's eyes skimmed past it without thinking too hard. Rumour was, it had seen things--white wives of employees both bending over and spreading wide, leaving no trace except the vague scent of feminine-musk and power. But in this place, nothing left a trace unless Bheki wanted it to.

And there he was--Bhekizizwe Khumalo--Bekhi to the select few he considered friends, "Sir" to the rest.

He stood behind the desk, a tower of stillness in a black suit, no tie, shirt open at the throat. Broad shoulders. Heavy wrists. That same unshakable calm that made you question if you were the one off-balance.

"Joel," he said, stepping forward and offering a handshake like a verdict. His grip was strong, deliberate, just shy of dominance. "Come. Sit. Have coffee. You take it black, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

He was a tower of a man--well over six feet, broad through the chest and shoulders like an ex-rugby forward who hadn't let the gym go. His dark skin caught the morning light, and the tailoring of his black suit made his prominent shoulders sit wider than his hips, highlighting his immense size was from pure muscle. No tie. Shirt open at the throat. Cufflinks inlaid with Zulu beadwork, subtle and loaded.

There was no need for theatrics. The power in the room wasn't from the furniture.

Joel politely sat. His mug appeared moments later from an assistant who moved like smoke.

They talked solar projects. Numbers, forecasts, a few subtle jabs about budget drift. Joel kept up. Bheki, as always, seemed to be watching two conversations--one on the surface, one unfolding behind Joel's eyes.

Then, just as Joel began to relax, Bheki leaned back and said, "You're married."

Joel blinked. "Yes. Meg. Six years." Bekhi knew this - why was he asking this? Joel pondered.

"She came to that launch party. Red hair - like copper, yes? Sharp cheekbones. She's... different."

Joel felt something tighten in his chest. "She's a salesperson," he said. "Does the big accounts at Firebird Pharma."

"I remember," Bheki said, swirling the coffee in his cup. "She didn't stay long. The kind who reads the room, then disappears when all the phonies come out."

Joel gave a short laugh. "That's Meg. People think she's social, but she's more comfortable watching than performing."

Bheki watched him now, eyes unreadable. "And you? You like performing?"

"I try to deliver."

A pause. Then Bheki leaned forward, elbows on the desk.

"Joel, there's a project coming up in Lusaka. You'd lead the rollout. Direct access to government, budget autonomy. A step up--if you want it."

Joel's mouth went dry. He'd been chasing a role like that for three years. This was it.

"I--of course I'd want that."

"Good." Another pause. "There's one thing I want to talk to you about, before we go further. Off the record. No HR. Just men."

Joel's spine straightened slightly.

"Okay."

Bheki's voice dropped, smooth and slow. "You know how things work here. Not in the manual. Not in the org chart. But the real machine. Every favour has a price. Every promotion has a story."

Joel nodded, wary now. His mind drifting back to the launch party; he wasn't sure he was comfortable where this was going.

"I like you, Joel. You've worked hard. You're clean, you listen, and you know how to wear ambition without stinking of it. But there's something I want in return for this step."

Joel's heart thudded. He was thinking stock options, kickbacks--something grey, but manageable.

Then Bheki said, "I want a night with your wife."

Joel stared.

The silence stretched. The air-conditioning hummed above them.

"Meg," Bheki said again, like her name was a rare wine. "Not now. Not tomorrow. But sometime. No force, no drugs, no cameras. Just presence. I want to know what it's like to be near a woman like that, with her husband's permission."

Joel opened his mouth. No sound came.

"I want to fuck your wife Joel."

"Something already happened at the launch party." Joel stammered.

Bekhi read him, Joel is suspicious something happened - yes. But Bekhi surmised he had no proof.

Joel, shocked, looked blankly back at him. The answer stuck like a claw in his throat. He had to say 'yes', of course - there was no real choice. But Joel sensed Bekhi really wanted Meg, and he might be able to get something extra.

"She can say no," Bheki added. "And you can walk out of this office and keep your current job. No change. But if you want Lusaka..."

Joel stood slowly. "I want Lusaka. And I want your receptionist."

Bekhi smiled. He had not anticipated Joel would have the backbone to ask for such a request. He actually respected him a little for it. But Bekhi did not negotiate - and Joel will need to be taught his place.

Bekhi picked up his phone. "Wendy, come in here." He said deadpan.

Wendy, the receptionist arrived in an instant. "Yes sir?"

"Your husband, Francois, works in IT - right?" He asks her.

"Yes sir." Wendy responds, feeling something might happen.

"Tell Joel what happened before he came in." Wendy eyes darted around the room. Bekhi added: "Be 100% honest."

"I sucked your penis, then we had sex on the couch." Wendy responded shyly.

"Does your husband know?"

"Not about that time, I haven't told him yet." She then adds: "But he knows about us."

Bekhi turned to Joel: "I fucked her in front of her husband many times. My brothers have also joined me in fucking her while her husband watches." Bekhi smiles.

He turns back to Wendy: "Joel wants to fuck you. I haven't decided if I will let him, yet." Wendy just looks at him blankly, waiting for further instruction. "Take your clothes off."

Wendy slowly removes her shirt, and bra. She turns around in a practiced fashion. Her tits are large, creamy, with small erect nipples - Joel licks his lips in anticipation. She then unzips her skirt, and wiggles her hips to make them drop to the floor - Leaving only a see through G-string, with a prominent wet spot. Bekhi nods his head and Wendy drops them to the floor and kicks them across the room. Her pussy is a nice shade of pink, with just a tuft of natural blonde hair; her pussy lips are somewhat swollen; Joel guesses from the earlier fucking she received from Bekhi.

"Go and sit back on the couch and spread your legs wide." Wendy does as instructed.

Joel can't take his eyes off her spread-eagled-snatch, her hole is open, and he can see that Bekhi fucked her raw and did not pull-out.

"Do you think she will enjoy your pink dick after she just had mine?" He looks at Joel carefully, his gaze is strong, his jaw clenched. Then adds: "Did Meg?" There it was. Confirmation. Joel could tell.

"Yes sir." Joel answered, trying not to be intimidated.

"Go and lick her pussy. Make sure she cums." Bekhi instructed.

Joel had never cheated on Meg before, but after his boss just confirmed that she had cheated on him, Joel did not hesitate and dove between Wendy's legs, and began lapping up the cream that stuck to het flaps.

Bekhi claps as Joel furiously licks Wendy's pre-fucked-cunt. "I was going to keep your wife just for my own experience Joel. But since you were so bold, I will have to let my brother's fuck her as well." He unzips his pants and goes beside the lounge and puts his semi-hard dick near Wendy's face. Before he lets her have it he asks her: "Will Joel's wife like fucking me and my brothers?"

"She will love it." Wendy said as she cranes her neck trying to get at Bekhi's big black cock.

He takes his semi-hard dick and slaps Wendy in the face with it. "Will his wife enjoy his dick after she had me and my brothers?"

"No. It won't feel the same." Wendy shudders as Joel's furious licking brings her to climax. When she calms down, Bekhi places his cock into her mouth and feeds it all the way down her throat. It was clear that she had done this many times - as she hums on his completely swallowed shaft making him fully erect, but keeping him in the depths of her throat.

Joel is rock hard from the sight, the smell, and the taste of this well-fucked-cunt; but mostly from the taunting from his boss.

"Thank you for cleaning her for me. Now move aside. You can't fuck her." He withdrew his man meat from Wendy's gullet, strings of her saliva trailed from what Joel guessed to be 10 inches of fat-hard-black-cock.

"Watch closely Joel, watch how much her pussy stretches." Bekhi got between Wendy's legs, lined up his black dick against her pink folds and pushed, going all the way in. It was clear that Wendy was use to his size to able to take him balls deep on the first attempt.

"This is how Meg's cunt stretched for me when I fucked her on the balcony of the launch party. Look Joel." Wendy's vagina was so wide that you could see the inner lips slurping on his engorged shaft. Bekhi withdrew; taking his dick all the way out of Wendy. Her pussy-hole was gaped bigger than any other Joel had witnessed - even in porn.

"This is how Meg's cunt looked when I was done with her Joel. After she orgasmed around my dick." Bekhi looked over at him to see what effect he had on him. He smiled: "But you know this. You felt her stretched pussy hole that night!"

Bekhi slammed himself in Wendy hard, and pumped with long hard stroked all the way in and out until she screamed in orgasm. He then pulled all the way out again - "Look Joel, this is how Meg's pussy was, and will be always from now on."

"How many of my brothers did you fuck at once?" He said to Wendy, teasing her as he rubbed the head of his dick around her vaginal entrance and onto her clit.

"10. Put it in please!" She gasped, as she bucked her hips towards him.

"Do you think Meg like my 10 brothers?" He slipped just the head in, driving her crazy.

"Yes!! Fuck me please!" Bekhi slammed in her and she screamed in climax. He brutally pounded her pussy for the next 15 minutes, making her scream the whole time. Finally, he grunted and pushed in, releasing inside her."

"Meg is mine. You can watch me deflower her ass. Then share her with my brothers." He said to Joel. "You can have Lusaka." He added.

Wendy was about to get off the couch. Bekhi looked over. "Stay there, I am going to let Joel fuck you - he needs to get use to fucking a stretched-out cunt full of my cum."

"Ok." Both Joel and Wendy said in unison.

Joel wasted no time. He got between Wendy's legs and drove his almost busting cock into her swollen, cum-filled-snatch. Despite how big she felt; to Joel she still felt amazing. He fucked her hard and fast, and was surprised to hear her let out little whimpers. Like Meg, she needed to insert 2 fingers into her box to amplify her feeling - which was what Meg always did when he fucked her since the launch party. They both came in unison, Joel adding his load to Bekhi's in Wendy's well used vagina.

"Get dressed and go back to work." Bekhi tells Wendy.

He then turns to Joel. "Tell Meg I will be over very soon. This time we will finish what we started and more."

"Yes, sir." Joel said.

"You are dismissed."

"Lusaka?" Joel asked.

"I will have head of projects email you." He then looked squarely in Joel's eye: "Only after I have had my fat black dick up your wife's tight cunt and ass."

"Ok." Joel could not shake the image from his mind. The image ran on a loop, of her alabaster skin, against the deep ebony skin of Bekhi; her tight perky tits with the strawberry -cream nipples, pressed his against his granite like chest. Her eyes - her piercing blues -widening in fear and excitement as the purple tip of his rock hard, 10-inch shaft busting through the pink folds of her freshly-shaved, tight pussy. She gulped and squealed as he pushed into her womanhood, forever violating the sacred seal of their marriage.

"Of course. And don't be too quick to judge, Joel. Think of it like trade. We all barter what we value most."

Joel walked out with the sound of his pulse in his ears.

***************************************************************************

That evening, Meg was already home when he arrived. She stood in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, barefoot, her copper bob backlit by the fridge as she reached for wine. She turned and smiled as he walked in, the way she always did when she sensed the world had tried to bend him.

"Big day?" she asked.

He swallowed. "You could say that."

And just for a second, she tilted her head, eyes narrowing. That sharp, piercing blue gaze--so often mistaken for innocence. She knew something had changed. She didn't ask. Not yet.

But she would.

To be continued...