Restoration Ch. 02

Chapter 4

The sight of Clive's greasy hand next to hers against the gleaming black paint of the classic car snapped Grace back from the depths of her post orgasmic stupor.

What now? What had she just become? What did Clive just make her?

As she tried to get her thoughts in order, she could not deny that she enjoyed what had just happened. It was far and beyond anything she had ever dreamed sex could be. A part of her wanted to keep on doing that thing they'd just done.

But seriously, how was that even possible? He was Clive, after all. This was not the kind of man a woman like her had affairs with. An unattractive employee and a slimy one at that.

The guilt and shame had already begun to peek around the corner at her as she laid helplessly under his weight. What would people say when this news broke? Her bosses would go ballistic. Her family would share in her degradation.

And Dante? Fuck. What about her sweet man?

She had been given permission to have sex outside her marriage by her husband. Hell, she'd even thought he was encouraging it. But, she couldn't imagine his response to sharing his wife with a man like Clive. She couldn't even imagine those two men in the same room.

No, this just wasn't good in any conceivable way. There was nothing but danger ahead. A train wreck was coming, and she would be hit from all sides. Yet, her traitorous mind was already thinking about the possibility of a 'next time.' Would it be so bad to come back and feel all that again?

"Please Clive, let me up." She tried to push up slowly onto her elbows, but his weight was too much. In fact, he moved his arms out to hold her down against the hot car.

"Clive? I need to go. I have a life, a husband, and I just let you take me across this car like I was starving for it. Christ."

"We need to talk now."

The last thing on earth she wanted to do now was talk about this disaster with Clive Ploughman. She just needed to get out of there, get home and get clean.

"This was a mistake. There's nothing to talk about."

He moved enough so his face was now just above hers. "Was it? I think it was inevitable. We've been dancing around this for a while, and now we've finally begun."

She gave him the sternest side glance she could, being in that awkward position.

"You're insane. If I hadn't... I mean... if I'd followed my better instincts..."

"But here we are," he said with a chuckle. "And I think there are two very good reasons why this is the beginning and not the end."

"What are you talking about? This was just one night of weakness. That's all," she said with annoyance in her voice. "There isn't a single reason why I should ever let you near me again."

He seemed unperturbed by her doubts and plowed on. "First, because that was most likely the best nut you've ever had, and you're gonna want it again."

As she laid there listening to this lunatic, she could feel his cock still inside her. Sure, it wasn't as hard as before, but it was still rather large and fully embedded.

"You're ridiculous. Now let me up so I can find my dignity. It's got to be around here somewhere," she said, trying to make light of a horrendous situation.

"What good is dignity anyway? And why would I give up the finest piece of ass I ever fucked. It makes no fucking sense." His reasoning was not that flawed, she thought. And she felt something strangely warm inside her about the backhanded compliment.

"And secondly, because I accept your offer with some conditions."

"What?" She snapped her head and shoulders around, and this time, he moved enough, so she could look over her shoulder and into his eyes with a hard glare. She could feel his cock shift inside her when she moved which made her glare seem less intimidating, somehow.

"You heard me. We're gonna be partners." He was smirking at her with such confidence that she wanted to slap him. She stared at him slack jawed. What was he suggesting? That he'd fix her car for a share of the profits and all the pussy he could fuck?

On the one hand, it would be the answer to one of her bigger problems. Maybe two. On the other hand, it would also make her a whore.

She knew exactly how she must look right now, mostly undressed, hair wet and stuck to her face, flushed, sweaty and used. But she wasn't ready for a life with his 'conditions.'

"I don't think so. This whole idea was a mistake."

He looked at her for a long time in silence, then said, "Want to hear my conditions, at least?"

"No, Clive. I just want to go home and make believe that this whole night never happened."

"But it did, Gracie. We are forever linked, you and me. We will both be the greatest fucks of each other's lives. You'll go back to your quiet little life hoping that your husband will come home and maybe give you something even close to what I just gave you."

His arrogance was normal but the nickname struck her like a slap. No one called her Gracie, not her parents, Dante, nor her friends. She hated it.

But just as she was about to reprimand him, Grace could feel his cock getting hard again fast deep inside her while he slowly groped one of her breasts. It felt too damn good.

She just stuttered without meaning under his manipulation. She hated how her body answered before her brain and mouth could object. She let him play with her for far too long, soft moans slipping from her mouth.

But finally.

"Stop doing that," she whined with a soft and shaky voice. "I'm trying to be angry with you."

He stopped talking while he played with her body, but then kept going. "And I will stay here living my quiet little life and hoping you'll come back some day. How boringly pathetic."

She squirmed under his hand, her unfaithful nipple stiffening at his fingertips. Despite the warring factions within her, she looked at him skeptically. "Is this your idea of sweet talk? Cause it's not working."

He suddenly stood up, disengaged, spun her around and lifted her up by the ass. She gasped as her legs came up and wrapped around him by pure instinct. Her arms betrayed her by looping around his thick neck. She felt like a ragdoll in his powerful arms.

Looking down, she noticed that his pants were gone and her once-white panties were hanging from one of her ankles. When did all that happen?

"Oh, I think it's working OK," he chuckled. Any protest she might have raised dissolved as she felt his thick meat resting between her ass cheeks. He reached under them and positioned his rejuvenated cock back at her entrance.

God help her, but Grace looked in his eyes and willingly relaxed her body, sinking slowly down on the beast with a long helpless moan. Talk about filling the void! That cock stretched her and filled her in a way no one ever had. This repulsive little man had more cock than he had any right to.

"Ohhhh, God, Clive! You're going to destroy me." She rocked her hips slowly, tested the fullness and dropped her head against his shoulder.

"There it is, Gracie. Deny that. I dare you. Tell me that's not the best dick you ever had."

"Fuuuuccckkkk!" She lifted her head and looked directly into his face as he stared back at her, eyes glassy and determined. She didn't have to wait very long to learn what he was thinking.

"If I can't be your husband, I can at least be your partner. Either way, I'm the man who's gonna fill this pussy with cock every chance he gets."

"You... you can't. I'm married."

"Oh, but I can, and I will. This is my pussy now, all reshaped for my big cock. Deny it. I dare you."

Grace's thoughts flashed back to her misspent college days when she was well on her way to being a full-fledged slut until Dante domesticated her. Now, in just one night, Clive was restoring her youthful slutty nature in a grand and glorious way.

She couldn't deny anything he said at that moment as they worked together to fuck up against that beautiful black car. All she wanted was Clive's cock inside her, moving at will to please her, to give her the pleasure that no one else could provide.

"It's soooooo gooood," she moaned. "It's so unfair. I can't fight with you when you do this to me."

He took that sign of weakness and used it to try and kiss her again, but she evaded it once more by throwing her head back. Even in Grace's crazed, sexually aroused state, that was just one step too far. She just couldn't do that to Dante.

"Then stop fighting," he said as his lips landed on her neck.

Chapter 5

So she didn't want to kiss him. OK then, Clive would take advantage of the opening she gave. He began kissing and love biting her long graceful neck which just made her moan louder.

Damn, but this woman was so fucking hot. He wished he had a picture of himself fucking the sexy redhead to show the guys at work. He'd be hailed as a conquering hero.

As he watched her splayed out before him and taking his cock inside her perfect body, Clive thought about the first time she'd ever called him into her office. He'd been mesmerized seeing her up close. She was every man's greatest dream.

What's more, there was something about her besides the fantastic tits and ass. Her skin was unlike the milky white of most redheads he had known. This woman fucking glowed.

He'd looked it up on the internet at the time. Some redheads have thinner skin causing it to look more rosy. Something about capillaries closer to the surface. Whatever it was, it was magnetic. Red before a bull.

He had known on that day that he wanted to fuck Grace Canfield, that he simply had to have her. This night was the start of that dream being realized.

Christ, but she felt good on his dick. He'd never had a tighter, wetter cunt. This chick was as hot for him as he was for her, whether she was ready to admit it or not.

"You like my cock, don't you Gracie."

"Don't call me that," she whined.

"Well, I ain't calling you boss no more. Who's the boss now, baby?"

"Shut up, Clive, and just fuck me."

Well, it was time, he guessed, to see what he could make her do. Sensing now that she liked it hard and fast, he downshifted the RPMs to slow motion just to tease.

"Noooooo! Don't stop," she whined again. "I need it!"

"Then tell me, Gracie, who's the boss now?"

"Fuck meeee!"

"Who's the damn boss, bitch?" he growled as he halted all motion.

"Please, Clive. You are. Ok? You're the fucking boss." With that admission, he started up again, slowly and then faster. They hung on to each other, slapping their bodies together and pawing at wet skin like wildcats.

Grace gazed into his eyes, her face just inches away and looking stern. She said, "Here, you're the boss. But at the center, I'm still your boss. Don't forget that."

He smiled. "I can live with that. I'll be my usual charming self during the day, but here at night, you do everything I tell you. And you will come here in the evenings to work on the car with me. You need to put a little sweat equity into this partnership."

Her eyes widened. "You're crazy! I don't know anything about this shit. I'll just be in your way."

"You'll be here or no deal. That's my condition."

She said nothing just rolled her head to the side as he laid her down on the hood of the car again and fucked her harder. Her beautiful hair was matted, but still looked sexy laid out against the dark metal.

Some of the hairs from his body now stuck to her belly and breasts. Fuck, that was hot. He was marking her, making her his.

As he plowed away to her tight pussy, he grabbed her wrists and increased his speed even more. Her big tits shook in waves on her chest as her eyes rolled back in her head. She was completely losing it, and Clive was mesmerized watching this beauty get off on his big old dick.

"Ooohhhh, Gooooooddddd. Cliiiiiivve! Fuuuuuuucckkkk, I'm cooommmmiingg again, don't stop, don't ever stoooooopppp," she wailed out as she banged her hands on the hood. He was only slightly concerned about her wrecking his automotive artistry. If she dented the thing, fuck it. It would have been worth it.

He watched her body spasm on the end of his cock and let her ride it out, with long strokes of his own. Christ, this bitch was beautiful. He didn't have any idea how long this would last, but damn he planned to enjoy it.

He watched her too as she came back to him, looking up while her hips slowly rocking under him. He was smiling down at her, and she gave him an embarrassed smile back. His cock, still hard, remained fully encased in her pussy.

"Who's the boss, Gracie?"

She turned her head in embarrassment, but she slowly said, "You are."

"Say it. Say the whole thing. I want to hear it."

She rolled her head to look at him again. "You're the boss, Clive. You and that big cock, but you can't ever tell anyone I said that."

He laughed. "You love my cock, dontcha?"

She smiled. "Look at you, asshole. So proud of that big thing."

"Yup, and you know, it's still hard. Watcha gonna do about it?"

She looked confused and maybe a little scared. She looked down at his crotch as he slowly pulled it out of her. It slid free and popped up in the air between her legs, waving to her.

"I want you to suck my cock, Gracie. I've been imagining it for a long time, and now you're gonna do it for me."

"Clive, I... I... don't think I'm ready for that."

"What ready? Fuck that. Come on, no excuses, honey. I'm the boss, and I gave you an order. Those are the rules."

How many times had he heard her say, 'those are the rules?' He liked throwing her own bullshit back at her. It gave this whole experience an added thrill.

He took her hand and pulled her from the car. She gave him a reluctant look and for a second he thought she would defy him. Then he saw her knees buckle, and she squatted down, balancing awkwardly above the cement floor.

Jesus, was she afraid to put her ass on his dirty floor? Women had such a strange way about a little dirt. It wasn't going to kill her, after all.

On her way down, she looked at his cock sticking up so proudly. She had a strange mixture of trepidation and excitement that amused him. Holding the car's door handle for balance, she just looked at his cock with some distaste before finally looking up at him. Her eyes were pleading for something.

"What's the matter now?" He was getting impatient, wanting to feel this bitch's warm mouth on his dick.

"It's got my... it's not really... clean."

Oh fuck, that bullshit again. He grabbed the tail of his open shirt and wiped his cock with it -- pretty thoroughly, he thought -- and presented it to her less-than-pleased face with a fist around the base.

"Better?" he asked.

"Marginally," she said, giving him an annoyed look.

"Why don't you clean it off for me then, Gracie." He placed a hand on the back of her head and pushed the tip of his cock against her lips.

Looking up at his face, she reluctantly opened her mouth. With as little finesse as he possibly could, Clive pushed the crown past her lips.

This was gonna be a face fuck that he fully intended to enjoy. How many times did he listen to her drone on about some shit when all he wanted to do was stuff his cock in her sexy mouth.

She gagged as he pushed the cock deeper between the puffy lips. She would have pulled away if he'd let her, but by grabbing her hair with both hands, she wasn't going anywhere. She tried to say something, but with a full mouth it was unrecognizable. He wouldn't have listened anyway.

"Just suck, bitch. I'll do the driving." And he drove his cock into her mouth, back and forth, making her gag and cough as he thrust in and out.

She was trying desperately to take the cock, but to be honest, he had no idea of being gentle. This was a bit of retribution for her. What goes around and all that shit.

"Fuck, Gracie. Your mouth feels so good on my dick. You know how long I've wanted to fuck it?"

She just whined as he let her breathe a bit around his cock in the backstroke. He liked looking down and seeing those green eyes looking up at him with awe.

He pulled his cock from her lips and watched as she wrapped her tongue around it, desperate to maintain contact. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to be in a trance. Damn, but this bitch loved his dick.

He rubbed it on her cheeks, the momentary reprieve allowed the winded woman to suck in even more air as she tried to evade the cock from rearranging any more makeup.

"You look so good on the business end of my cock, baby," he said. "We're gonna have a good time together, you and me," he laughed. "We're gonna be the best partners ever."

She groaned as he stuffed his cock back in her mouth. Taking his eyes from her beautiful cock-filled face, he watched as she began rubbing her pussy. Fuck, the slut was totally getting off on this facial abuse, too, making him feel like he'd just hit some kind of jackpot.

After a few more minutes of the skull fuck, he saw a line of drool hanging from her chin as well as some spattering on her boobs. Without stopping, he scooped it up from her chin and wiped it on the side of her face and in her pretty red hair.

"Don't make a mess in my nice neat garage, bitch," he chuckled, as he kept pushing his cock in her mouth even harder.

Once he'd punished her enough, Clive drew his hands back and let Grace take over. He quickly discovered that the chick could suck a dick with the best whores around. He kind of wondered where this stuck-up bitch had picked up her technique. Certainly not from that limp-dicked husband of hers.

Yeah, she had a little trouble with his size, as most girls do, but she sure loved trying to conquer it. Her eyes were closed as she devoured him with her lips, tongue and soft palate.

Whatever qualms she once had about the cleanliness of his cock was forgotten now. She hung onto his legs with a tight grip as she engulfed it repeatedly with gusto. She didn't neglect his balls either, bathing them both equally with her tongue.

"Yeah, baby. Suck that dick. Show me, slut. Shit!"

"Gluck. Gluck. Gluck." Grace was using her throat to massage his dick and show him just how good a slut she could be.

"Fuck, my cock loves your mouth. Take it, baby." He could feel the tingling in his balls as the cum finally began to churn down there. It was just a matter of time now.

He took her hair in his hands again, jammed her head down and directed her movement along his shaft. When he couldn't stand it anymore, he popped the dick from her lips and aimed it at her face.

"I'm gonna cum all over you, you little slut. I'm gonna mark you forever." He was jacking his cock hard as she looked up at him with lust-filled eyes.

"Cum, Clive. Cum for me."

"You want it, slut. You want my cum."

"Yes, please," she begged, opening her mouth expectantly like a baby bird waiting for lunch.

Seconds later, Clive erupted with a mighty roar. "Fuuuuuuuccckkkk!"

Cum erupted from his huge weapon, blasting her face with volley after volley, almost none of which went into her mouth. Instead, she was streaked with strings of cum, like a glaze-drizzled pastry.

Clive held her head up, turning it side-to-side for examination, and she let him with eyes closed and a tiny smile. Admiring his handiwork, he laughed down at the picture she made and that made her giggle in return.

"You made a mess of my garage after all, Gracie."

Later, after they cleaned up and dressed in near silence, they walked to the door, Clive came up behind Grace and wrapped her in his beefy arms.

"That was a good night. I'm looking forward to a long and productive partnership."

She turned, still encased in his embrace. "A true partnership means loyalty, Clive. I meant what I said earlier. This can't ever get out. It would ruin me,"she said, taking his chin in her hand. "Do you understand?"

"Yeah. I got it."

He tried to kiss her again, but just landed a misfire on the cheek as she turned away at the last second. He smiled as she pushed herself out of his clinch.

"And...," she continued. "Partnership also means respect for me and my marriage. You need to understand that."

She felt his breath on her cheek as he spoke, and it made her shiver. She could also feel him smiling.

"All I've known in this life is that partners always try to screw you," he said. "Since we've already done that, all I'll be able to think about is screwing you again."

She broke away from him, pushed out the door and muttered under her breath, "This is such a fucking stupid mistake."

She walked out into the night wondering when she'd make the same mistake again.

Chapter 6

Grace felt a need to call Dante. She didn't know why, because she couldn't tell him about Clive and what she had done with her employee. How would she even start such a conversation?

"Guess what, baby. Remember that fat creep at work I told you about..."

Yet, after a sleepless night, the need to hear her husband's voice was overwhelming. She had to know that he was still there and that he loved her. His love really felt critical now.

Phone calls with Dante had been difficult since he'd been gone. The choreography just didn't work well because of the time difference. When he was free to talk, she was either asleep or at work. They'd settled on weekends as the best time to make sure they were both properly attending to what the other had to say.

Even then, the calls felt perfunctory. A round of 'miss yous' and 'love yous' was followed by an account of their rather boring weeks. Mostly they talked about work.

This time she told him what she'd learned about the value of the Mustang and her plan to partner with someone on the restoration. Oh yeah, and she might have a lead on a guy.

She thought he'd have a ton of questions, and frankly, she didn't know how she'd answer them. However, he just seemed pleased to have the old car out of his garage.

In fact, he also seemed a bit distracted by her off-schedule call. She realized that Dante was at work, but still... He seemed anxious to end the conversation, which only served to make her feel less important and more alone.

The call lasted half the time they normally did, and soon they were hanging up. But then the guilt slammed down on top of the young wife. She was keeping secrets from her husband that she didn't need to. He'd given permission, after all.

She didn't know what bothered her the most: the lie by omission or the shame of her own actions in that steamy garage. She had been a complete and total slut last night.

She'd lost herself in the pursuit of pleasure with Clive. At some point, she'd become obsessed with that big cock of his and what it could do. Sucking it was a challenge of sorts, and she wanted to see if she could master it.

She knew this was playing with fire, but the risk was part of the excitement. Not the risk of getting caught. She did have permission. It was the risk of something she couldn't name, loving the cheating too much.

One thing she was sure about, was not letting this become an affair. She had to keep it a casual thing. Dante had warned her not to fall in love.

Well then, who better than Clive. Surely, he was unlovable. She didn't even like him. They would fuck and then part, until she needed to fuck again.

Clive could not get too close. He was the kind that would turn an inch into a mile, and he was clearly obsessed with her. And, why wouldn't he be. She was fully aware that guys like him didn't get the hot girls.

She freaked out a little when he started talking of husbands and partners like they were two versions of the same thing. She had to set him straight on that nonsense.

He was no one's idea of a romantic partner.

And his crazy idea about her helping to restore the car was too ridiculous for discussion. He just wanted her there for free-use pussy, and she didn't trust herself to stop him. She decided that it just wasn't going to happen.

The next few days, they had limited interaction. She made sure of that. She had to keep a clear boundary at the office, and he needed to respect it. She'd hoped she'd made that perfectly clear.

They did pass in the halls or warehouse occasionally, and each time he'd give her that knowing smirk. Yet, it made her blush to have him looking at her and undressing her with his beady fucking eyes. She tried to ignore it and hoped that no one else noticed.

Suddenly, she was blushing just thinking about him. She threw herself into her work to get him off her mind. It came as a surprise to her that she was thinking more about Clive now than about Dante.

At night, Grace's mind would drift back to being laid out on that black car in a hot garage, and it would start all over again. Her hands would drift south, and she'd be getting off one more time to that smug face.

On Friday, they saw each other in the breakroom. At the impromptu meeting, Clive informed her that he'd set up a tow truck to get her car the next day. That would be an annoyance, but at least that part would be over.

As she sat drinking her coffee that next morning, she realized he hadn't given her a time for the truck to arrive. She had a dozen errands to run and hoped to get this thing done early. She texted him, but got no answer. So she sat and waited... and waited.

When the driver and Clive finally pulled up outside it was nearly 5 p. m., and Grace was steaming. She opened the garage door, walked out and threw the keys as hard as she could at Clive who caught them easily and smiled.

"Something wrong, partner?"

"Fuck you, partner," she snapped with emphasis on the 'partner.' "You wasted my whole damn day." She stalked back in the house and slammed the door.

A half an hour later, the Mustang was safely on the back of the truck and headed down the road, but Clive's pickup hadn't moved. Calmer now, she opened the door to the garage to see him leaning against the wall, wiping his hands with a rag.

Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that said, 'I Must Have Seized the Wrong Day,' her employee folded his arms and smiled. She was getting pretty used to that ever-present smile and that galled her.

"Shouldn't you be following that car? What if the tow truck driver runs off with it?"

"He's my cousin. It's fine. Invite me in," he said.

"No. Go home... or just away somewhere... anywhere."

"You're not still mad, are you, Gracie honey?"

"Go away, Clive. This is my home. You're not allowed here."

"Not allowed? By who? Your husband?"

"It's by whom, and by me."

"Your partner is not allowed to enter your home? Some partnership we got."

"A good partner would have been considerate of my time today. He would also be considerate of my boundaries. I'm setting a boundary."

While she spoke, the damn man walked right up the two steps to stand in front of her. The damn smile never left his face. He pushed the button for the garage door, and it slowly closed while they stood looking at each other.

"You don't really want me to go. You've been waiting for me all day, and you're just mad because you missed me, and I didn't come."

"You're delusional if you think I've given you any thought at all."

"You want to kiss me right now, I can feel it."

"I'd rather kiss a goddamn toad."

"Is that a Cinderella reference? Or was that Sleeping Beauty?"

"Don't try to be charming. It just doesn't work for you." Almost as soon as she stopped talking, he pushed his way past her into the house.

"Clive!"

"Wow. This is the whitest place I've ever seen. Even operating rooms have more color than this." She watched him looking around at the white walls, counter tops, carpet and furniture. Judging her.

"If it's any of your business, I like things to be clean and white. Most people like things that way."

"Yeah, most obsessive-compulsive people."

She groaned. He sounded like Dante and she hated that. People always judged her. Fuck you all.

"Listen! You can't just barge in here like a bull in a china shop and start making fun of my choices. Look how you live. You're filthy," she said, pointing at his hands. "And you're going to get that mess all over my things."

To her amazement, he laughed. "So, you like a clean bull. I can do that." He walked to her sink, started the water and began washing his hands.

She just stood there watching him like he was some strange species she'd never seen before. What the fuck was he doing? What was going on in that tiny little mind of his?

She watched him rip off a piece of paper towel and wipe his hands before tossing it in her trash can. Turning with a smile he started toward her with a determined look in his eyes.

Before he got even close she threw up her hands to stop him. "Don't take another step. You're still totally filthy," she said, gesturing toward his clothing. "You can't touch anything or sit anywhere in... that."

"No problem," he said, as he began to unbutton his shirt. Again, she was aghast. He couldn't get naked in her damn house, in Dante's house.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she squeaked in a panic.

"I'm going to take a shower, so I can get clean to meet all your majesty's ridiculous rules."

"You can't be naked in my damn house, Clive. I'm not having sex with you here. Ok, so we made a mistake the other night, but that was it."

"I don't think so," he said while heading down the hall to her bedroom, his clothes in a ball under his arm and his fat ass waving at her.

"Fuck." She followed him to press her point. He had to get dressed and out of her house. Immediately.

She found him stepping into the running shower. He left the door open, and water was escaping onto her floor. She grabbed a towel and threw it down to catch the water from wrecking her home.

"Goddamn it Clive! What part of 'I'm married' do you not understand?" she asked through the half-opened door.

He turned and gave her a slow sarcastic look. She lowered her eyes to his big hanging dick, something she should not have done. Because now her body was beginning to betray her brain once again.

"The part where he's not here and won't be anytime soon. The part where he abandoned you. The part where he walked away from the world's most desirable woman. By the way, is he gay?"

"No goddamn it, he's not gay. He's a grownup with responsibilities." She was trying to maintain her anger, but her damn eyes kept traveling in the wrong direction, even after she pulled them back.

"Aren't you one of his responsibilities, and the most important one?" Clive was soaping his fat body with her lavender goat's milk soap. Fuck, now he was going to smell good.

"Fuck you, Clive," she hissed as she stood in the shower doorway.

"Yes, I think I will. Thank you. Right after we get cleaned up." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her fully clothed into the running shower. She screamed as the hot water from the rain head immediately soaked her Lululemons.

"Goddamn it!"

Clive wrapped his strong arms around her and held her tightly in the corner of the shower stall. She tried to push away, but soon gave up.

"You need to get clean too, baby, after your workout."

"Aahhhhrr, Clive! I never got to work out because you were late! Now, let me go."

"No." She could feel that his cock was now hard and pressing into her stomach. Not again, dammit. Do not think about his damn cock.

"Clive!"

"Stop acting like you don't want this, like you didn't wait all day for this. You wanted me here. You wanted to be with me. That's why you're mad."

She laughed in a throaty mocking way. "You're fucking crazy, Clive. What woman in her right mind would want you?"

He lifted her chin so that she was looking into his eyes. "The one who came harder than she ever has in her whole damn life the other night. The one who begged me to never stop."

She felt both his hands roughly cup her ass cheeks lifting her off her feet and pushing her back harder against the wall. Once again, she found herself wrapping her long legs around his thick waist by instinct.

Grace didn't know how to answer him. It was true. As the water dripped down her face she realized that everything he said was true. She wanted him. She had wanted him all damn day.

"Clive, I..."

"You can admit it, Gracie. It's OK. It's just us here. We both know what's happening. We got something. Maybe you're ashamed of it, but it's here, and it's powerful."

He let go of her, and stepped back. His eyes dropped down to his cock and then returned to her face with a questioning look. She looked down, too. Christ, it stood up between them like some great monument. The Clival Tower.

The fat bastard began sliding her little top up, and she just raised her arms to let him pull it over her head. Her breasts were soon freed, and she let him roll her wet pants down her shaking legs, too.

She was naked in her own shower with Clive Ploughman. As he worked the soap onto her young body, it was begging her to let the old man fuck it again. Resistance had fled all too easily.

This was not the hard, rough Clive from the garage, but a softer, more gentle man she didn't even recognize. She knew what to do with the old Clive. This one was a fucking mystery.

She watched his hands move smoothly over her big breasts. The old Clive was only about sex. Sex she had been allowed by her husband. She knew this newer version of Clive would be harder to separate from the life she previously had and from her marriage.

He tried to kiss her again, but she was getting good at seeing him coming, and once again, turned in time. He looked hurt now, which surprised her. There was silence as they faced off, but just for a moment.

"Why can't I kiss you, Gracie?" There was frustration in his voice, and it wasn't like him to whine. "I need to kiss you."

"You're not my husband, Clive," she stated with finality.

"Yes, but I'm the naked man in your shower. I'm the one who's here. I didn't leave you."

"Stop saying that. Dante didn't leave me. He's serving our country." Again, they stared at each other as the water fell about them.

"Dante? More like Don't-He. He don't care enough to be here when you need him... He don't prioritize you... And he don't cherish you like he should," Clive said angrily. His voice rose as the veins popped out on his neck. Yet he had the presence of mind to see the alarm on her face and calm himself.

Only the sound of running water and unbearable tension separated them in the steamy shower. A moment later he spoke again.

"I can't imagine why a man married to you would ever leave," he said in a much softer voice, almost a whisper. He leaned his wet forehead against hers.

Grace was speechless as she felt the older man's skin against hers. She realized that he was frustrated at her unwillingness to engage in romantic play. He was probably a little jealous, too, but this anger at Dante was misplaced.

On the other hand, she had to admit to herself that she liked that he defended her -- that he felt a man should place her at the top of his list of priorities. It was kind of sweet and not altogether wrong.

So she didn't say anything. Instead, she lifted her hand to rub the side of his face. Strangely, she wanted to ease his irritation, to let him know this complicated situation would all work out. Yet, she held back, because it would not work out for Clive. There was no chance that he'd get what he obviously wanted.

Moments later, he was drying her body with loving care. Again, it was sweet to see this normally vulgar bull of a man being tender, so unlike anything she'd seen from him before. She just watched him in silence feeling the familiar sexual urges building as his hard cock just hung right in front of her.

She watched in fascination as her traitorous hand moved on its own accord, the fingers circling the shaft. A soft moan escaped her as she felt the velvety steel against her palm.

"Yeah, you don't want me do you?" he asked sarcastically, while lifting her into his arms as if she weighed nothing at all.

"Mmmmm," she responded as her face pressed into his chest and neck. Damn, but he smelled good now. Damn lavender goodness.

Clive carried her to her marital bed, and Grace didn't object. She knew she should, but it just didn't seem right to. He wanted her, and she wanted to be wanted. Why did the locale matter? Such was the reasoning of her horny brain.

The heavyset man sat down with a groan on the edge of the bed and placed her on his lap. His mouth went right to her neck and gorged on the flesh there with his lips and his tongue, making her moan.

"I'm going to shake up your neat little world, Gracie," he said with determination, as one hand circled above her head. "And there's no way to stop me. But hell, you don't want to anyway."

"Fuck," she moaned quietly. Why did he have to talk like that? Why did he have to push every boundary, to kick open every damn door? He wouldn't rest until he took every damn thing, stripping her emotions bare.

He rolled her onto her back across the bed sideways and somehow his face ended up between her thighs. She responded defensively by lacing her hands in his hair.

No one had eaten her pussy since she'd met Dante. It had never been a top priority, so she'd never tried to teach him the art. In fact, she'd never met a man who was any good at it.

Her friends had joked that she just hadn't met the right man. Now, as Clive looked up admiringly, she was actually terrified that she might have found that man.

"How is your skin so perfect?" he asked, causing her once again to blush.

"I'm not perfect, Clive."

"Yeah? The entire world disagrees." One of his hands slid up her belly as another gripped her thigh.

"This skin...," he continued. "I just want to touch it all the time, to run my hand down it and feel its creamy smoothness."

She would have laughed at his silliness except that the look in his eyes was so genuinely sincere that she would have felt mean in doing it. This man was actually worshipping her like she was Aphrodite or some shit.

"Don't put me on a pedestal. I'm just a normal woman."

He grinned up at her, as he wrapped his beefy hands around her thighs and pulled them open even wider. She blushed again at his sudden change of direction.

"Oh, I know what you are, my little slut."

She watched with rapt attention as his face dropped down and that thick tongue came out. He maintained eye contact as she braced herself for the sensation of liquid on a red hot surface that was just bound to create steam.

And boy, did it. The shock of that physical change bolted her upright, but Clive must have anticipated it for his fingers gripped the flesh of her thighs, holding her fast.

His tongue performed a series of long lingering strokes that drove her head back into the comforter. The room was filled with the deep throaty moan of a woman being pleasured beyond her endurance.

"Fuuuuuuuucckkk, Cliiiiiivvvvee!"

Her hands gripped the bedclothes erratically as her hips bucked upward. Christ, he was good. He was so fucking good. As he lapped her up the mountain toward release, her brain began to fog over.

So when he said, "Let your new husband take you, baby," she knew it was something inappropriate. She just couldn't respond in any meaningful way. She just let him push her over the crest. And then, the world shattered.

She didn't know how long she came, but it felt like forever. The ripples of pleasure seemed to go on and on. Before they even stopped he was above her grinning and pushing that magnificent cock into her receptive pussy.

"Fuuuuuucckkk, Cliiiiive. Myyyuy Gggoooooodd."

His grin widened as he pushed deeper and deeper inside. No other man had ever managed to plunge to the depth that he could so easily achieve.

Grace lifted her legs outward, welcoming him in. All those years of ballet, gymnastics and yoga had prepared her for this precise moment. As she rotated her hips, she pointed one toe to the east and the other to the west.

The result of her body manipulation was that she could not have been more open for this man. He took her up on the kind offer and drove even fucking deeper. The head of his dick felt like it might be rearranging her organs.

"Do you want to go to Poundtown, Gracie? Do ya?"

"Yyeeeesss."

And so it began with the great beast lifting himself up and almost completely out of her, before slamming down hard. The thud of his big belly and hips against her defenseless body nearly drove the air from her lungs. Then he did it again, and again, and again.

"Aahhhhhhhhh!!!" she screamed into the night. "Fuuuuckkkk meeeeee!"

He did as she begged, giving her every inch of his power for what seemed like an eternity. But then, she never wanted him to stop, keeping her body completely open to him.

When the heavily winded man finally slowed, she wrapped her arms and legs around him with the irrational fear that he might leave the scene. Hang on, she thought. Never let him stop. Never let him go.

"Oh, baby," she moaned into his neck. "You're sooo damn gooodd. Thank you, thank you, baby."

Breathing heavily, his face appeared above hers once more. "Did you like that, Gracie?"

"Yyeeesss, soooo much."

"You like it when your new husband fucks you deep. Don't you?"

Shock registered with her finally. Husband? He said 'husband.' Her only thought was to stop that talk. This was still Dante's bed.

"I'm waiting, baby. Did you like getting pounded by your new husba..."

Surprising herself, Grace pulled his neck down and kissed him as hard as she could. She didn't know what she expected from the unkempt little man, but surely not... magic.

Their first kiss was initially fierce and all consuming, but softened after a few seconds into a lover's kiss, sweet and tender. They nipped at each other's lips and tongue enjoying the novelty of it.

This bastard knew what he was fucking doing. Her hands wrapped more tightly around his neck. And she was lost.

The realization that she was kissing her worst employee while he fucked her voluptuous body did not register with her rational self. All she could think of was her need, her desperate need, for this man at this place and time. Everything else she would deal with later.

She didn't have the ability to time it, but the kiss lingered forever. She had felt ravenous for affection, and she was finally getting it. She gave back as good as she got.

And he was good. Where this fat creep learned to kiss so well she could not imagine. His lips, his tongue, his teeth all seemed to work together like an artist, pushing her desire higher and higher.

Clive began pounding again as she barely hung onto his neck. She pulled away finally to see him smiling back at her. The knowledge that he'd now won his conquest was written so plainly across his features.

She would just have to worry about that another time because once again, she was building to another giant climax. This cock, this glorious cock was taking her places she had never known. How was it that Clive was the man doing the driving?

Only a short while ago, she would not have imagined any of this possible. Yet, now she was barely hanging on to her control and her sanity. This fucking man was stripping her of everything she had prided herself on.

Just a few days in his company, and she had become a terrible leader, a cheating wife, and a complete slut. She had so much to hide from the world and all of it centered on Clive.

He rammed deeply into her, stuffing his thick cock to the hilt into her clasping pussy. Her head whirled with rapture. Ripples of hot, molten pleasure accumulate deep within her.

As the older man slammed into her again and again, her cunt began to burn hotter, and suddenly, an explosion of incredible intensity wracked her loins. She screamed with joy as uncontrollable waves ran through her body.

"Oooooohhhh, Ggoooooddd, Cliiiiiiivvvve," she shouted as she hung onto his sweaty rutting body. He pounded into her hard, gripping tightly to her shoulders as his balls began to tighten and seethe with boiling juices.

Finally, she felt the elation of white-hot semen fountaining deep into her quaking womb. The heavy man groaned and shuddered with his own ecstasy as Grace's pussy milked every last drop of

cum from his balls.

Much later, Grace could not have explained why she had held Clive so closely over the next hour, kissing him almost without stopping. It just felt so good to be touched and to be wanted so desperately. Human intimacy was a wonderful thing.

She would worry about everything else another time.