My wife, Pinned Beneath My Boss's Expensive Bulk
Written by someone named Ace / Nov 13, 2008 and modified byEroticWriter with some story line modifications, heated up sex and a title change. Formerly this was called Rich Old Man And My Wife.
Readers: One of my favorite themes is the boss taking an employee's wife. You can read some of those stories I have written along that theme by titles such as I Bet I Can Fuck Your Wife, and Their Wives Belong To Me. I am not into sadism or masochism, and if readers want to read that, there are many other writers.
Me? If I start reading a story and see the word 'Master,' I quit reading. This well thought out story by 'Ace' is almost along that line, a master and his subjects, but there are no whips and chains, no masks, just a mental form of bondage, the bondage of a boss that owns his employee's wife. The new title I have given this story reflects just that, the Boss. EroticWriter.
The first time I met him was at a staff party; everyone was pretty shocked when he turned up, he was a billionaire media mogul after all, and we were just a small newspaper he'd obtained when he bought a bigger outfit in Chicago that owned us.
But there he was, in the flesh, right in our grimy little office.
He spent most of the evening talking to my wife.
Now Joyce, though being a lovely blonde, was never a woman who stopped traffic, she wasn't in the same league as the models he was normally associated with, or the supermodel he'd recently married. My wife was [and still is] a beautiful woman, but it's her personality and intelligence that sets her apart.
"What were you talking to him about last night?" I asked her the following evening, the first time we had time to talk.
"Lots of things. He's such a nice man, Rick; and so interesting."
"Did he say anything about the future of the paper?"
"Not really. He asked me a lot of questions though."
"What kind of questions?"
"About the staff mainly, but he was really nice."
"You said that."
"I told him about your ideas to help the circulation. I think he liked them."
We were still talking about him when there was a knock on the apartment door. I opened it to find him standing there; Him, our new owner, my boss, the billionaire entrepreneur, alone at my very humble door!
He offered me his hand; "Rick isn't it?" he asked.
"I... yes." I said, stunned.
He shook my hand and entered. I wondered how he'd gotten through the downstairs door without getting buzzed in; I never did find out.
The big man looked around our small place, until his eyes settled on Joyce, who seemed fairly flustered. He had come by surprise, and she was just wearing a simple house dress with only panties underneath. I could see what he was seeing, the outlines of her prominent nipples.
"I wanted to talk to you in private." he said as his eyes passed over my wife and moving slowly. "Mind if I sit down?"
"Of course not, please..." I stammered, still not believing he was here. "Can I get you anything? Wine, juice?"
"A glass of wine would be nice," he said, seating himself on our sofa. "Sit with me, dear." He said to my wife, patting the cushion next to himself, "I enjoyed our conversation last night."
I poured us each a glass of wine, feeling confused and threatened, yet helpless.
"I came by the newspaper last night to announce my intention to shut it down." The big man said, putting his arm around Joyce's shoulders; she just looked straight ahead into empty space, her eyes big and round, like an animal on a lonely country road shocked by the headlights of an unexpected truck.
"I'm sure you know that the losses it runs are significant." He continued, "But then I started talking to Joyce here, about all the people involved. You all seem so nice; well, what's the point of all my power and wealth if I can't give a second chance every now and then."
I struggled to come up with some words; I'm a writer, not a speaker. "But sir, I'm just a junior editor. Why have you come to me?"
His powerful hand clamped my wife's bare shoulder; she was wearing a simple strapped smock. Joyce just stared at me in shock, as if seeking some direction from me; but I had none to give her.
"Because of your wife, Rick. I'm very impressed with her; a PhD in mathematics is really an achievement. Now she's told me of your energy and ideas. I like the idea of throwing a new man into the ring, giving someone a chance to make a difference.
Perhaps you can turn the paper around, perhaps you can preserve all those jobs and the families that depend on them. The position pays well, so Joyce could stay home and work on her theorems. Would you like that?"
My throat was dry; was this a joke? "Yes; yes sir I would."
"Excellent. I like to do something really good every now and then; I also like to do something bad on occasion. Sometimes, I do both simultaneously."
And with that, he shifted his hand to the back of Joyce's head, and twisted her face around towards him. He wrapped his other hand around her neck for good measure, and he kissed her, he kissed my lovely young wife on her mouth. Her eyes bulged in shock, but she let him kiss her, making absolutely no effort to stop him. How could she, after what he'd just said?
I stared in helpless shock; what should I do? A hundred jobs, our local paper, my future, or my wife? He was a hundred times the man I was, and we all knew it. A million dollars was pocket change to him, the business I worked for was just a nuisance.
"Now here's how this would work." he said, breaking the kiss, and running his hand behind Joyce's back. "You'll do an article about me, you'll accompany me around for a few weeks. It will be mainly complimentary, with just enough criticism to make it seem balanced."
As he was talking he brought his hands to my wife's thin pale shoulders and pulled the straps of her smock down before I realized he had just unzipped her dress; her small firm breasts stood proud, the pink nipples erect in the cool air of the room. Her face was blank with confusion, and I guess mine was probably pretty much the same.
"Your publishing director is retiring in a month anyway. I'll promote you to the post, everyone will say it was because of the article, no one will ever guess the truth."
"And what is the truth?" I asked.
He turned to me for a moment and smiled, before tugging her dress right out from under my astonished wife and threading it over her long thin legs.
"I think you know the answer to that, Rick. Let's not discuss the specifics, all right?"
I looked at Joyce, and she looked back at me, her big innocent eyes begging for an answer to this conundrum; how could we agree? Yet how could we refuse?
In the next few seconds, his shoes and trousers were off, he pulled my wife's panties off, her milky pale legs were splayed out, and right before my bulging eyes, he was holding a very large and stiff old penis against her groin.
"Relax my dear." He coaxed her persuasively, "Just relax and lean back."
"But I couldn't!" she objected feebly. My wife's eyes were on that prick, and I could see that she was having her doubts as to whether she could comfortably take it.
"Of course you can, my dear." He answered her, the full force of his considerable personality focused on her. I was simply ignored, as if I was no longer there.
My tongue was swollen and parched, my limbs had gone weak; what kind of a man were we dealing with? who could do such a thing and expect to get away with it?
He could.
Joyce is a delicate creature, with thin limbs and long slightly wavy blonde hair. Her complexion was smooth as a baby's; at 24, she was still asked for ID when we went to clubs. Her slim fine youth was in stark contrast to his large middle-aged and balding bulk. Her innocent beauty was the opposite of his corrupted desire.
He lifted her long legs in either arm, opening her and pushing her slightly back. She stared up at him silently, as helpless and stunned as I was.
I felt a weird numbness, like when I'd had a bad car accident once. I had not yet acknowledged what was happening, that an overwhelming force had suddenly crashed into our lives, and was now taking my wife right before my eyes.
His penis, that cock. It would stretch her, maybe hurt her, and forever place in her mind that she had been fucked by a man who was considerably larger than her husband between the legs.
On his knees on our carpet, the powerful man maneuvered his stiff rod to Joyce's spread pink snatch. She stared at him silently, her mouth hanging open, the tension of this weird moment painted across her face.
There was nothing left to say. No challenge to his authority coming from her husband. My wife was about to have our lives changed, and she was looking up at him and waiting.
His penis rested on her for a moment, then he pushed his hips forward, and the tip entered her; before my eyes, my young wife was being defiled by the billionaire. She moaned loudly as the tip entered her fully and stopped.
“Are you alright my dear,” he asked, grinning down at her?
Joyce sighed, quite loudly. “It's...it's alright. Go ahead.”
"This is wonderful!" the media mogul exclaimed as he worked his bottom tighter into the valley of Joyce's smooth spread thighs. “Oooooh!” She looked over at me for a moment, her clear eyes impossible to read, then looked away.
"Aaaahhh, but she feels good. There's just no feeling like this in the world; total domination, complete power, to take a young wife while her helpless husband watches,” he said, sliding his big stiff member deeper into her.
“Oooooh Mmmmmmm.” My wife seemed to be taking him rather easily considering, and I realized that there must be some lubrication coming from one of them. Her arms were going up now as she placed her hands over his broad shoulders.
"I have thirty-five thousand employees, I have dinners with world leaders, but this is true power. How old are you, Rick?"
"Thirty five." It came out almost as a squeak as I watched my lovely wife being violated by his huge prick. I could see that even now, he had not yet fully penetrated her to his fullest. He gave her one stroke, then two, using just the head. Now he had his hand on her throat to demonstrate his power over her.
“Thirty five and soon to be the boss of your local newspaper. Think about that while I enjoy the feel of your wife's delicious pussy.”
There was still some more to go and I suspected that he was deliberately taking his time going all the way so that he could drag out and enjoy this conversation.
I was not only watching his cock as it was violating my wife and spreading her beyond what I had thought to be her capacity but I was also watching her face. I could see...she wants him all the way in.
Now he was reaching down and fondling her breasts, but staying up so that he could look down and see the penetration, and also, it appeared, so that I would see it. "Look Rick at your wife's pussy adjusting to my cock. Have you ever watched your lovely wife with another man before?"
"No." Strangely and I don't know why I was doing it because I knew he wanted me to, I moved in for a closer look at how his prick was spreading her lips.
"Well that's good. It was once normal for a chieftain or a king to have his way with whichever woman he desired, but things have changed."
Then, as if to demonstrate his total domination of both my wife and me, he drove his cock the rest of the way home, and Joyce moaned loudly as she took what I estimated to be fully nine inches, maybe a little more.
He might actually have been a little longer than nine inches because he had some flab around the base of his cock, and when he drove it all the way into my wife and compressed that fat, she probably was getting another inch or so that did not normally show.
He was not obese, but he was fairly overweight. I knew he was past sixty, he'd had several wives, several children, and some grandchildren. His big ass was moving up and down now, driving his big cock into Joyce's body as he spoke.
He was being gentle for the most part, but every once in a while he would press harder into her, going deep and all the way, and I would seemy wife's eyes bulge.
"This is something primal, Rick." He continued, "I'm alpha male right now, I'm having your woman and you've chosen not to oppose me. As you watch, you will probably feel aroused; this is nothing to be ashamed of. Your instinct is to have her as soon as I'm through, so that your sperm will have an at least equal chance."
My wife was sprawled on the sofa below him, one leg trailing on the floor and the other thrown over his pudgy thighs; she stared into his eyes with a strange expression, as if unsure what she felt herself. As if she was ashamed of her own feelings, her unspoken consent to his desire and my utter humiliation.
"The thing you should know, even though she is not expressing herself, is that your wife is more than willing, Rick," he said as he thrust himself into her.
"She was flirting with me for hours yesterday. You have to realize what I represent, I'm the ultimate successful male. She's flattered that I should choose her, that a man like me would compromise myself this way for her. Yes, I'm old and not in perfect physical condition, but I'm top dog."
He loomed above her, his hands on her slim hips; her knee fell to the horizontal, and I could see right between them, I could see her sweet pink snatch and the stiff old cock slipping easily in and out of it. She looked so sweet and young below him, so fine, like a child. It was too horrible to watch, too fascinating to look away from.
He stopped for a moment, and taking her head in his hands, kissed her tenderly for a minute before resuming.
"You're a lovely woman, Joyce, but what really gets me is your intelligence. The idea of mating with a really brainy woman is totally appealing to me. Tell me, do you love Rick?"
He stopped fucking her while he awaited her answer.
Joyce spoke for the first time since this madness had begun, several minutes and an eternity before; She sounded confused as she answered. "Yes... yes I do."
"Excellent! And you Rick, do you love her as well?"
"Of course." I said, my voice sounding weirdly normal.
My employer started up again, banging my wife hard at the end of each stroke, so her body shuddered at each impact as she was getting somewhere more than nine inches. He was holding her by the throat, something I had seen done in movies and had always thought would intimadate a woman. But he was doing it to my wife, and it seemed to stimulate her further.
"You love her even at this moment, as you watch me defile her, as she succumbs to me and trembles with each stroke of my big cock?"
"Yes!"
"Say it again, tell her. Go on, tell her!"
"I love you, Joyce." I said, as my eyes began to run and my voice choked.
I am not sure that she was even hearing me as her hands gripped his wide shoulders, her skinny legs wrapped around his middle, and her breath coming in short sharp gasps. Then her long blonde hair fell over the edge of the sofa onto the floor as her green eyes stared at the face of the old billionaire she was coupled with. He was fucking her hard, his big body dominating her totally.
With a loud groan such as I had never heard her make before, my wife came, groaning repeatedly with the intensity of the sensation; the conflict, the outrage, the pleasure, the passion. He groaned as well, and holding her tightly, ejaculated deep inside her.
A man, another man, had just put a huge load of warm sperm deep into my wife's vagina, and already I was visualizing his thick cum seeping out of her later, after he was gone, and maybe as I was fucking her.
Yes, I said 'fucking her.' For some reason now, it seemed to be that if I followed up with my cock after she had just received the fucking of her life, that all I would be doing was following up with still another fuck. 'Making love' would not seem appropriate coming right after this.
"Fantastic." He said after a minute's quiet. He kissed my wife again and sat up, his cock pulling out of her and tugging her inner lips outward on the way out. "There's nothing in the world that can top that, fucking another man's innocent wife while he watches me make her cum, and believe me, if there was I'd know about it," he said.
Looking like she might be ashamed at what had just happened and how she had been responding to him in front of me, Joyce lifted her leg over him and got to her feet. She looked at me with tears brimming in her eyes, and silently went into the bedroom.
"Ok, Rick, here's the deal," he said, making no move to dress himself. I could see that his cock now, though no longer rigid, was still looking quite thick and long as it dangled above and over his balls. And now for the first time I could see that he had a foreskin. Before, with his cock rigid when it was first *******, the skin had been back.
"I'll be out of town for a couple of weeks. After that, you, and your wife of course, will spend a few weeks traveling around with me while you write your piece on the new owner of your paper.
I keep your paper open, you're in charge, good salary, respect. Joyce doesn't have to get that job in the city to pay her student loan, she can stay home with her computer and I come over whenever I want and fuck her."
I stared at him; even after what had just happened, this was way too far. Somehow, I knew, I had to show that I could not be totally dominated by this man. Yet, he had already fucked my wife, so in reality, it was silly for me to even try. But try I did.
"Forget it! No way. I know you're a big guy, but we have our pride too! We'll get by somehow."
"Rick." Joyce spoke from the bedroom door. "We should do it."
"What? Are you crazy?"
"I want to do it, it's a good arrangement."
She was now wearing a short robe; her hair was disheveled, her feet were bare, but her green eyes were clear. I noticed that she had not pulled the robe all that tightly closed, and half of one tit was showing.
My boss was grinning. “So that's it. We travel together. You write, I fuck your wife, and the paper stays in business.”
Joyce did not want to discuss it 'until some time had passed,' she said. Finally, two days later, I was able to discuss it with her and she admitted to me that she had enjoyed herself and it would be 'no big deal' to her to have to continue fucking him. 'After all,” she said, “look at what we stand to gain.'
After another couple of weeks, we boarded a private jet, and were flown to New York. Another Limo took us to the Waldorf Astoria hotel, where we were booked into a suite.
That night, the mating of my wife and the affluent man who had bought us began for real.
Without knocking, he let himself into our suite with his own key. He shook hands with me first.
"Good to see you again Rick, how are you?" he said affably. "Joyce; I've been thinking of little else for these last few weeks, how are you feeling?"
He took both her hands and looked down at her in apparent concern.
"I'm fine, thanks." She said. She was wearing a short silk robe over her nakedness, but the sexy nylons and shoes were very much in evidence.
"Excellent." He said, "Let's go into the bedroom. You too, Rick. I want you to be there."
That surprised both my wife and I. Now that we had agreed to go along, we had expected him to want her to himself. "Why?" I asked despairingly; the reality was bad enough without having to actually witness it.
"Because it's more fun that way." He said with a laugh, leading my wife through the door.
"Sit there and watch." He instructed, waving at a chair opposite the bed. I sat down as he gently removed the robe from Joyce's shoulders, as they tentatively kissed each other.
She was small in his arms; tiny and young, vulnerable. We were just ordinary people, we stood no chance against his charisma, his confidence, his awesome wealth. He'd pressed us into a corner; we could save the paper, the jobs of all our friends, we could jump into the life we wanted. All we had to do was let him fuck Joyce.
Joyce was on the bed now, and he was lowering his head between her thighs. He pushed her knees farther apart, spreading her so wide that I could see his tongue stroke her gleaming pink vaginal lips.
Joyce shuddered, clutching at his head, squirming at his attentions; he didn't have to pleasure her. He could have just done the deed and gotten back to his very busy schedule, but he clearly intended to take his time.
"I adore the taste of women, don't you?" he said to me.
"I like the taste of my woman." I answered, with emphasis on the 'my.'.
"The way Joyce wraps her thighs around my neck is sweet too," he said, reaching behind himself to stroke her foot as he licked her some more.
"There's just one problem." He said, looking up from his task again; "The smell on your mouth can be offensive to some women. My wife won't kiss me after I've been in her box. Take over for me, Rick, while I rinse my mouth."
"Take over?"
"Come on, man! She's your wife after all, keep her warm for a minute."
He gestured at her orange framed hole, the entrance of her womb, soon to be filled with his seed.
Her pale thighs were spread wide in invitation; against my better judgment, I stepped to the bed and lowered my head to my wife's waiting clit. I didn't have the gumption to disobey him, even here in the privacy of the suite.
She moaned, clamping my head between her legs. I pushed my tongue into her, tasting her sweetness while I still could, before he had defiled her with his seed.
After a minute, I wondered what had become of the other man; I looked up to see that he was back already. He was kissing Joyce on her mouth as I did her lower parts. There seemed to be something wrong with that, so I pulled away, back to my chair.
He rolled into the gap I'd left, filling the vacuum between her thighs with his bulk; I saw her reach down with a shaking hand to guide him into herself. As before, two weeks ago, she groaned loudly, but the groan sounded different now, more like pleasure than trying to adjust.
"Ah, that feels good," he said to her with a smile, "your pussy is a nice fit for my cock. How is it for you, my dear?"
"Wonderful." She said, "It's really nice." She glanced over at me, and then said something that both shocked and disappointed me. “And I have been missing your cock.”
I think her saying that, and in front of me, really pleased him.
"And you Rick, are you alright over there?" he asked considerately, "Why don't you pull it out and please yourself while you watch?"
He knew that I would have a hard on. I also knew that he would be making his comparisons but hoped that he would keep any comments to himself. Based on the way he had been enjoying and commenting on his total control over the two of us, I should have known better.
I pulled out my already erect prick and I saw my boss smile and then he sort of chuckled. “I suspected as much and now I know for sure. My cock is much larger, both in length and width compared to yours. I figured it was based on how tight your wife felt that first night and again tonight, and also by the way she was responding to my moves.
I like that, it gives me even more a feeling of power over you that I am able to fuck and pleasure your wife with a much larger prick.”
He looked down at Joyce, who was looking up at him in horror at what he was saying to me, her loving husband. And then he made her say it.
“And you my love. Tell your husband how much you like the superior feel of my larger cock and how easily it makes you cum and how intense your orgasms are. Go on, say it. He already knows that you prefer my cock.”
I guess my boss had his masochistic streak, and tonight I was being his target. But my wife played along, and I think she really meant what she had to say.
She was looking at me, but all the while her hips were moving under him to meet the slow strokes he was giving her at the moment. “His cock, his big cock feels really good honey. It touches me all over inside and stretches my lips and I have really good orgasms with it. I do love it and now that I have had it I hope to keep getting it.”
“Excellent my dear. Now watch your husband stroke his puny little cock while I fuck you good.”
My slightly more than six inches was not exactly puny in the real world, but compared to his I guess it was. It did feel good to have my cock in my hand, to stroke myself while they did it together. It was a humiliation of course, but it hardly mattered; there was no lower to go, so I figured I might as well take my small pleasure.
And I didn't want to cum quickly either. If he was going to keep fucking my wife with his mighty pole, I was going to just sit, stroke, and watch. Cumming I could do at anytime.
For a while, he wasn't very talkative, which was a relief really. He just held my lovely wife tenderly as he screwed her energetically, his big barrel of a body moving above her, pushing his big stiff cock in and out of her, readying her to receive his sperm.
Joyce began to come; he pumped her harder. She began to whimper, clutching him tightly; he stiffened, she cried out, he held her tight and grunted in satisfaction as he filled her waiting tubes with his premium sperm.
I didn't know if that was to be the end, so I did not allow myself to cum just yet. But it was close, my cock hard as a rock, right on the edge of cumming. I held my stiff dick as they finished; he turned and looked at me. "Joyce darling, would you like to take Rick in your mouth? He's looking a bit left out."
She looked at me sadly, her big clear eyes regarding my lonely dick and seeing that it was inflated to a level that she was familiar with when I get completely hard. She nodded her assent. I went to the bed, and she sucked me off as he watched.
I tired to warn her. “Baby, I'm close so don't suck too hard.”
“Do you usually cum in her mouth,” he asked, looking at me as my wife pulled her mouth away and looked up at the two of us?
“Not usually. She has only let me do it once or twice in our marriage.”
“Well, she will this time.”
And my wife did as he wanted, not only taking my cum but swallowing as it burst forth in a mighty spurt, filling her mouth with my warm and thick load, a load that I had been saving for almost a week in anticipation of this night.
Maybe I should have been fucking my wife often and hard before this night, but something had held me back. I had held back on having an orgasm, and in the process kept her from hers. I guess, deep down, I had been saving this first night for the both of us.
It was a busy few weeks for me, I had to follow him around all the time, staying out of the way and making notes for my article. Almost every night, he made love with my wife, and I had to watch. Yes, I said 'made love' because I was thinking that was what was happening.
Sometimes I would participate at his direction, and at other times I was made to just sit nearby and watch. One night he wouldn't even allow me to pull my cock out, and I had to suffer through it unsatisfied until much later because he chose to sleep beside my wife, her in the middle and me on the other side.
This was strange because for the first time I ended up sleeping on her right, where, if I were to play with her, my left hand would have to be the active one. He was the Alpha, and he had control of the placement in our bed.
My wife seemed to have fallen straight to sleep. I tested her by allowing my rigid prick to press up against her ass since she was turned towards him. She was either asleep or choosing to ignore me. I actually had to jerk off, and do it silently and secretly as I caught my cum in my other hand and crept silently off to the bathroom to wash it drown the drain. .
At last, our strange time with the superrich was over; we returned to our town, our life, our friends.
Just like that he was gone. We didn't see him for about five years. Administration people would come from headquarters to check up on the paper, he didn't waste his time with such trivia.
Joyce and I never discussed those weeks, the dark secret of our success.
Five years passed. Then one evening from out of nowhere there was a knock on the door; it was him.
Somehow he knew, maybe he had someone watching us, but we were home, and alone, save the children.
He shook my hand and kissed my wife; with some passion, too.
How are you, Joyce?" he asked, looking into her eyes.
"Very well, thank you." She said, her eyes shining up at him. To me, it looked like they had just left off yesterday instead of five years ago.
He strode into our house and our lives; he was too big, too powerful for us to change his set course, and we all knew it.
"So, I see a lovely house now, a happy family... two children I understand. Mother, father. Very nice. How are you two getting along? Has your relationship held up well?"
"I'd say so." I said, following after him as he looked through our ground floor, walking around like he owned the place. He might own my wife, but the house had been purchased with my hard won earnings.
"Me too." Joyce said. "I love being a housewife and taking care of my children. I have enough free time to do some nice math as well. I've had a couple of papers published, one of them has picked up a lot of citations."
He sat in our living room and we talked for some minutes, he smiled at the baby photos. It was strange to see him this way; he wasn't an omnipotent financier, he was just an old man, a father who had never known his own child. Yet I was waiting, waiting for him to try and take her to bed, and make me watch.
"Rick, I know you've been trying hard and I gave you five years, but your paper still lost three million dollars last year."
We discussed the details for a while; most of them aren't important to this story. It should be suffieient to say that cable news and the internet was killing off newpaper distribution. Another paper in town, our competitor, had been cut to three days a week, and as a result their sales had further declined.
"I can't justify keeping you afloat much longer," he said, "It's a bit hard to explain to the board."
"So you're going to shut us down?" I asked, deflated. "Just when I've got sales on the rise?"
That was true, sales, the actual number of papers sold and subscribed to had gone up, but it was the advertising that paid the bills, and again, television and the internet had cut into our proceeds.
"Well, I could give you another five years to get it into the black. If..."
"Yes?"
He looked at me piercingly, then shifted his gaze to Joyce.
“We need to talk alone for a minute” I told him and leading my wife by the hand, we walked into another room.
“He wants to start fucking you again,” I complained. We had slowly adjusted to married life after my wife had been fucked and fucked well by another man for a time span of several weeks. Things had slowly gotten back to normal, and now he was here once again.
My wife had already accepted the reality of the situation. “Do you want to keep your job, and the paper afloat?”
“Yes.”
"So what's the problem then? You aren't uptight about the sex are you?"
"I was never really comfortable with that and how much you seemed to be enjoying him. And now you're the mother of our two children,"
"Well you'd better get used to the idea then."
What else could we do? If I lost my job, we'd have to sell our house and move to the city. And of course, nearly everyone we knew was employed at the paper. It was more than a job, it was a community.
We had a responsibility to do what we could; all my wife had to do was let him fuck her a few times, and we could keep everything floating along.
He came back to the living room, and we told him our decision.
“Good! We'll begin again as soon as I get back into town, sometime next week.”
“Next week?” Frowning, my wife stepped closer to him; she reached up and put her arms around his neck, he put his hands on her narrow hips. They kissed, lips and tongues, bodies held close, their passion for each other nearly palpable. Their passion had an odd simplicity; it was sexual in the purest sense. They didn't want to live together or know more about each other, they just wanted to have sex.
"You're welcome to stay," she told him.
He hesitated; "I should get back to town. I have a plane waiting."
"Let it wait," she suggested. Unseen to my wife, I shook my head in disgust. It was like my boss had never been gone for five years. Bam! He walks in, and she wants to fuck. She could have held this off till next week, but she wants to begin now.
In response, he lifted her off of her feet, he kissed her again, deeper, harder. He lifted her teeshirt from her, he began to fumble with her bra.
"You have big breasts now," he observed.
"Suck them," she whispered, ignoring my presence in the room.
The old man held her, his big hands under her ass, her legs wrapped around his waist and she arched backwards as he lowered his face to her pale breast. He sucked one nipple, then the other; she laughed in glee, clamping herself to him.
"Where's your bedrooms?" he asked.
"They are upstairs," she told him.
“I want to fuck you in your marriage bed, the one you have sex in with your husband.”
“That will be fine my love. It's a king-size mattress.”
Once again he was demonstrating his total power over me by saying that he wanted to fuck my wife in our marriage bed. That power, of course, was complete with my wife being not only willing but anxious to do just that.
My wife had called him 'her love,' and she wanted to do it on our, on my marriage bed. Does this woman have no respect for me?
He set her down, and they started up the stairs, holding hands. Joyce stopped for a moment, turning to look back at me; I was just standing there in our living room, waiting for feeling to return to my legs.
"Put Amy to bed and then come join us." she said with a grin, as if it was all about nothing.
The younger child had been in his crib, and Amy had been playing all the time in front of the TV. During all the discussion between my boss and my wife, and yes, me, we had sort of been ignoring her. By the time I got to the bedroom, my wife and her wealthy lover were undressed, legs entwined, kissing on our bed.
There is something strange about walking into your own bedroom and seeing your wife totally naked and lying on your bed with a naked man and acting as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
The years and two children had left their mark on Joyce's young body; she was now 29 years old, with a more generous rear and larger breasts about the size of small grapefruits. They hung slightly, but were full with enormous nipples.
Her hair was as ever, that angelic orange. Her skin was still smooth and pale, and her belly was fairly flat, the barely visible stretch marks the proud trophies of her childbearing.
Her lover, on the other hand, was definitely looking the worse for wear; his age had caught up with him now. His hair was very thin, and white. IN addition now he was totally bald on top. His belly had grown significantly, and he had bags under his tired eyes that weren't there before. Inwardly I laughed to myself. With all that new fat around his middle and gut, he might only be able to give my wife eight or nine inches instead of nine or ten.
I watched them for a minute, standing alone in the doorway. I could understand why she wanted him. He was a self made billionaire, he'd been born in utter poverty. He was still essentially fit at sixty eight years old; but I didn't understand why she was so into having sex with him. He just wasn't very attractive physically.
Again, I figured, it must be that cock of his. There was another reason she was so attracted to him I figured. She liked the way he took charge, using his dominance and power over her husband in order to have his way with her.
He pushed her onto her back, then spread her knees so that her soft middle was open and vulnerable.
"Look at her, Rick; her long blonde hair, her smooth skin, her big breasts. She's a perfect mother, nurturing and loving. She does higher math just for fun, yet she likes to keep your house and care for your kids."
His big hand stroked over her naked body.
"Just now, she told me that she's never been with another man since she met you, except me of course. Do you love her as much as she deserves, Rick?"
I looked at her, shivering at his touch, waiting to mate with him, eager for his old dick to once again slide into her pale frame. She had his organ in her hand, she was pulling on it gently but emphatically.
"Yes."
"Does it hurt you to see that I am going to make love with her and be feeding a big cock to her and having her enjoy it immensely?"
"Of course."
He smiled; "But you've had her all to yourself for all these years. Surely you don't mind sharing her a couple of times with your benefactor."
I was encouraged by that, his saying 'a couple of times.' Maybe he didn't plan to keep fucking her for weeks like the last time.
He lifted his bulk over her, he kissed her, his knee pushing against her groin.
He rolled back again, and stroked her open crotch. "Do you give her head when you make love?" he asked.
"Sure." I said.
"Show me. Come on, man, pleasure your lovely wife. You owe her everything you have, don't you? So then. Put your face between her thighs."
Joyce looked at me expectantly; she looked so edible, so tender, so tasty.
He was right, of course. Although I was the boss at the paper now, the editor in chief, a respected man in our little town, it was all fake. My position was entirely due to Joyce and him, my true job was cuckold, that was what I was really paid to do.
I crawled onto the bed and did as he told me.
As I licked her, they kissed; after a while, they twisted around, and she sucked his cock as I licked her clit.
“Now you Rick. You suck my cock.”
Total, complete domination. He had it, he wanted to show it. I quivered. That I had never done, not with any man. But I knew what I had to do, and now I learned just how far my wife had to open her mouth to accomodate him.
It was strange at first because not only did I have to open wide and take his prick into my mouth, but it was dry, all across the head except for his pee hole, where it was flowing slippery fluid. I had to use my saliva to wet him so that I could more easily move my tongue and mouth around his glans.
I found that it was easier to use his pre-fluid rather than trying to work up adequate saliva, and I kept dipping my tongue into the area of his opening and running the slippery fluid all around the head. I wondered if my wife too, had done just this.
I sucked and tasted a continous flow of pre-fluid flowing out of that large hole on the tip of his penis for several minutes.
Curious, because I knew how sensitive my tongue was on the tip, I pushed it into that hole, and it went deep. I sort of ran it around in there while wondering if he could feel it and if it tickled, then came back with my tongue and ran it all around the outside of his glans. I think he liked that because he moaned and sort of pressed himself into me.
Now my wife was stroking my cock, but seeing how hard I was, she was doing it slow so I wouldn't cum. I think she sensed that sucking his cock would be easier to do mentally if I was fully aroused.
The feel of his warm cock, his thick cock in my mouth, combined with my wife slowly stroking my dick seemed to inspire me. I sucked harder. No, not harder, maybe with more enthusiasm would better describe it.
Wrapping the fingers of one hand around his shaft, I worked on that head, loving on it actually and knowing that this was the object of attention and affection for my wife.
I was working on giving him the maximum pleasure, yet I was afraid that he would make me swallow his cum, and by that further illustrate his total dominatioin. But luckily for me, he was saving it for my wife.
"Move aside, Rick," he said at last. "I'm going to have sex with your wife now. Sit back and watch, watch closely; see how much she likes it."
As he spoke, he took my place between her legs. He held his powerful old cock in his hand and pushed it into her wet waiting tunnel. Joyce arched her back and pushed back, her younger body sucking the big man's organ into herself with a happy sigh.
Since he had last stretched her wide, she had been stretched even further from childbith with two children. Now she was able to take him more readily and all at once if necessary.
He did just that, giving it to her all at once and making her sigh with long missed pleasure. I just stepped back and watched in painful humility.
We'd been happy the last 5 years. We had fun together, we laughed at each others jokes, we had good sex. But somewhere underneath all that, this was always present; the knowledge of him, the awareness that she would have sex with him anytime he wanted her to, not only for the material gain it brought, but because she wanted to.
Because she wanted him, his time, his approval, his attention, and his genetic material. She wanted his kiss, his cock, and my suffering was included in the deal. My humility was part of their foreplay, it turned them both on as much as the potential for procreation did.
He pushed her knee onto the mattress, so I could see where his cock was clamped by her wet vaginal lips, and he began to pump her that way, his bulk rising and falling over her small frame, his billionaire cock ruling her.
"One of the things that I find so special about Joyce is the way she sees me; not as an overweight old man, but as a powerful and attractive man. Am I right Joyce?"
"Of course! Powerful and sexy."
"You want to have my cock in you, often as possible, right baby?"
"Oh yes!"
"Now that's sexy to me. Very very sexy!"
With each word he spoke, he drove his big cock home for emphasis, bouncing the mother of my children below him. If he was giving her a little less in length because of his weight, she didn't seem to notice, he still had more than enough.
"Are you going to come, my lovely," he asked her? "Will you come for your daddy?"
"Oh yes! I will if you just... if you just... Ahhh..."
I sat on the edge of the bed as she climaxed in his arms, pinned below his expensive expansive bulk.
He pulled out of her and held his cock to her lips. She opened wide and took him into her mouth, sucking happily at his pleasure. His cock was perfectly rigid, the shaft quivering in her mouth, on the delicious edge of climax.
I was surprised that, after waiting five years, that he had pulled out, and it hit me, 'he's going to make me take over and swallow his cum!' But again, he surprised the both of us.
"Ah, that's good," he said, kneeling over her face, "Do you ever have anal sex, Rick?"
"No."
"You should try it, it's great. What about you, Joyce? Anal sex?"
She stopped sucking for a moment. "I haven't done that for years, since before Rick and I were together." She had said it, but it was the first I'd heard of it. My wife had given her ass to one of her previous two boyfriends and I had never known.
"Honey, there's some Vaseline in the medicine cabinet," she added.
Surprised, no, actually shocked that my wife was apparently willing to take his hugeness into her anus, I got the jelly and came back into the bedroom, where Joyce was still working the rich man's cock with her mouth, stroking his big loose balls with her hand.
"Don't just stand there, man! Grease yourself up." He insisted.
My heart leaped. I thought for a moment that he was telling me to grease myself up, my ass I mean, and he intended to fuck me in the ass. Taking some Vaseline onto my fingers, I moved to apply it into to my anus.
He laughed, and my wife smiled. “No, not your ass, hers. You're going to be fucking her ass.”
Joyce lifted herself onto her hands and knees, her knees splayed out, her rear end open in invitation.
Well, I was pretty horny; watching her with him always did that to me, despite the pain and jealousy that was always there as well. And I'd always wanted to try it...
I was glad to do this, because I knew that for some reason my boss was allowing me to have this ass fuck before he took one of his own.
Her ass was tight as a fist around my dick as I pushed it into her. She kept sucking his cock while I reamed her. I fingered her clit at the same time, and she started to come again.
He held her head in his hands, sliding his dick in and out of her mouth. I avoided looking at him, I closed my eyes and reached forward and around to fondle Joyce's generous breasts. She was shaking and moaning, clenching my cock in spasms of her ass; I came.
Soon afterwards, the tycoon squirted into her mouth. My wife rolled over onto the mattress, exhausted.
"Get packed Rick," he said, stepping off the bed, "You'll have to spend the next week with me."
I was relieved because I still had been thinking that he might be thinking of fucking me in the ass. "I'm going? Why?"
"She has to take care of the kids, otherwise she could just spend a few weeks with me like last time. Quick now, my plane is waiting for us."
We flew to New York, and then to London, then by helicopter to his estate. We had a lot of time to talk; it was a privilege to have that much of his time nearly to myself though he was on the phone a lot, and there was a flunky or two around.
And then I met his wife.
His wife was a few years older than mine, a few years younger than myself. She seemed surprised that he was home at all.
She was a remarkable woman; I'd never been in the presence of someone so gorgeous. It was very difficult to not simply stare at her continuously. Why would he desire my wife, a beauty herself, when he had a woman that looked like this?
She was tall, at least 5'10". She was thin, yet shapely; she had long auburn hair and longer legs.
Her face was stunning from every angle; every expression was a new delight, a new vision of beauty. Yet she seemed sad; her life wasn't a very happy one.
We had dinner together, but my boss was gone before breakfast the next morning.
"Make yourself at home, I'll be back for you in a few days. We'll travel back to the states together." He'd said.
I guess I made myself more at home than he might have intended; I slept with his wife.
She was hungry for company, and I had little to do. She told me all the anguish of her life, and we became intimate.
It somehow doesn't have much to do with my story, except to add a small touch of poetic justice. She was into appearances, and I was still a good looking guy; powerless, [relatively] young, and handsome. The opposite of her husband.
I fantasized on making her pregnant, and did my level best; blasting my sperm repeatedly up her middle, as she clamped me between her long shapely legs. It's a rare privilege to make love with a [former] supermodel, but it was a bit spoiled by the fact that I love my wife.
If she found my smaller cock to be less satisfying, she never let on.
He phoned me from New York; and it was then I learned to where he had gone. To my wife, apparently.
"I'm going to leave you with my wife while I'm with yours." he announced. "I like you Rick, and I don't mind. Hell, I'd have divorced her years ago except it would cost me too much. She isn't too bright you know, but she did get one over on me; she's not fertile."
He laughed, as if that was something really very funny.
The tall beautiful woman that I could not inpregnate seemed to lose some of her allure; we slept together anyway. We chatted, kissed, made love, and enjoyed our artificial relationship, passing our lonely hours together.
Her husband sent his jet to take me home, after he was sure my wife was pregnant with his child. I guess that he wanted that, to produce a child with someone. I never saw either of them again.
After his suicide, it was revealed that the whole empire was built on massive debt.
He had plundered the pension funds; my newspaper was closed immediately, and we had little to fall back on, save the equity in our home.
Because of my wife's ability to earn income surpassing what I could make, we had to move to the big city. I keep house now, and take care of the three children. Joyce, with her PhD and published math papers, got a high paying position with an international bank.
The only resources that seem to be entirely intact, and cunningly protected from all creditors, was a massive scholarship fund. The beneficiaries are 97 children of varying ages; as well as 26 older kids that have already been paid through school.
It wasn't hard for me to discover that all of these children have a parent who had been promoted to a top position by the big man personally, mostly in loss making divisions that just kept making losses until the whole corporation went under.
They say he was a loser, he was never the success everyone had thought he was.
But I say they're wrong. Altogether, I believe he fathered no less than 123 children with 75 different women. One of the children on that list is the one he fathered with my wife. Isn't that the true meaning of success?
