Annabelle Gets Caught Ch. 02byJust Plain Bob©
Annabelle wasn't very happy with her new arrangement. She didn't seem to mind finally having to give me blow jobs and anal sex and one day I intended to ask her about that. But she hadn't liked it one bit when I told her the price of her continued comfortable life and my not telling her sister's husband about their black lovers.
"Do you really hate me that much?"
"Hate has nothing to do with it Annabelle. You are a whore and from time to time I can use a whore in my business. Why should I pay for one when I already have one available? Frankly, I don't understand your reluctance. You have been sneaking behind my back and hanging horns on me for years and now you don't have to sneak any more. You can go visit your sister and do your thing whenever you want and all it will cost you is a night or two with one of my customers. And some of them are even black. Don't worry Annabelle, it will be discrete and it won't be that often. I'll only use you for my very best customers. I don't want it to get out that my wife is a whore. Now, how about coming over here and sucking my cock."
That little conversation took place two months ago and I hadn't yet used Annabelle as a call girl because I wanted all my ducks in a row before I pushed things. The last duck lined up that afternoon. Three weeks ago I had sent Annabelle to spend a week or two with her sister.
"I want you to go and have a very long talk with her. I want her to know just how big the noose is that I can drop over your necks. You not only have your sister's husband to worry about, you need to think about how your parents will react to finding out that both of their daughters are doing black gangbangs. You also need to prime your sister for what she might have to do."
"What is that?"
"She might have to do in Colorado what I'm going to have you do here."
"Of course I would Annabelle."
"But she's never done anything to harm you."
"Sure she has Annabelle. She has been helping you cuckold me and that certainly meets my definition of doing me harm. Just go see her and make sure that she understands the consequences if she doesn't go along. Oh, and by the way, better get your fill of black cock on this trip because it may be a while before you get to go again. Remember Annabelle, all you want when you visit your family, but don't ever let me catch you doing it around here."
As I watched her plane taxi out for the flight to Denver I took out my cell phone and made a call to let the private detective I'd hired to let him know she was on her way. The results of that phone call and that visit were now safely tucked away in a safe deposit box. It was the last duck I needed to line up. It was the report, complete with audio and video of what Annabelle had done while at her sister's.
I'd gotten my wish. Annabelle had believed me when I told here that I had film and photos of her last trip. She also believed me when I told her that I didn't care what she did when she was at her sister's place in Colorado as long as she didn't mess around at home. As a result of believing me she had just spent a week and a half doing the same things I had seen on the night I stopped by to surprise her only now I did have it on audio and video.
It was almost a repeat of what had happened the last time except this time there had been seven blacks instead of five and I got five days worth of divorce material. There were a few other differences. Annabelle and her sister were in the same room on three of the five days and once they were both on the bed at the same time and they each had all three of their holes filled.
It was erotic as hell. Two little white bodies buried underneath a sea of black. But the image that really grabbed me was Annabelle taking care of five black cocks at the same time. She was on top and had a cock in her mouth, pussy and ass, and while the guy she was sitting on held her erect she used her hands to jack off two more blacks. Any divorce lawyer would love to have material like that to work with.
Now it was decision time. I'd given Annabelle the deal not meaning to keep it. I needed her to go back to her sister's so I could get the material I needed for a divorce. I'd spent the last couple of months protecting my assets as best I could. With the audio and video I now had in my possession the divorce should be a slam-dunk in my favor, but anyone who places any trust in our court system is a fool. I had to weigh things and see what would be the most cost-effective way to go. A good lawyer and a bad court could give Annabelle much more that I would like.
On the other hand, other than being totally pissed at her infidelity, did I really need to get rid of her? She had always been a marvelous piece of ass, even when she was denying me anal and oral sex. Now with those two added to the mix she was superb. She was a fine looking woman and was great arm candy at business and social events. She was a good cook and kept a clean house and all those things went on the plus side of the scale. The only thing on the negative side was that she was an unfaithful whore. But – she was an unfaithful whore that I could use.
The next thing to consider was how to replace her after the divorce. Did I really want to go to all the trouble of finding a new wife? At my age I was well past the 'eligible bachelor' stage and my work schedule pretty much precluded my getting involved in the 'dating scene'. On the plus side Annabelle did seem to be comfortable with her new status of course she hadn't yet been sent on her first 'business meeting' and it could change the way she felt. After looking at it from all angles I decided to stay with the status quo. I could always go for the divorce later.
It had been a bad day and when I got home I was in an irritable mood and Annabelle picked up on it right away. She poured me a glass of Merlot and told me to take my clothes off:
"I'll run you a bath and you can soak and sip your wine and I'll finish fixing dinner."
I took her advice and by the time she had dinner ready I felt a lot better. I was standing in the bedroom drying myself with a towel when she came in and refilled my wine and then stood there looking at me. After almost a minute of just standing there watching me towel off she walked toward me and dropped to her knees in front of me and took my cock in her mouth. I was caught completely by surprise. For the ten years of our marriage she had absolutely refused to suck my cock and for the last three months she only did it when I ordered her to. This was the first time Annabelle had taken my cock in her mouth on her own.
Her right hand slid up my leg until it reached my balls and she fondled them. Her left hand gripped my ass and pulled me toward her mouth where her tongue was swirling around the cock head. She licked and sucked and after only a couple of minutes I began to feel weak in the knees and I knew I was going to let go. If I had ordered her to suck me off I would have grabbed her head and held it while I came and forced her to swallow my cum, but since Annabelle had initiated this blow job I wanted to see what she would do so I told her I was ready to come. Her right hand let go of my balls and she used both hands to grab my ass and pull me as deep into her mouth as she could get me and I let go. Annabelle gulped and swallowed and didn't lose a drop. When my cock was soft she let it fall from her mouth and she looked up at me:
"Feel better now?"
All I could do was look down at her. At war in my head were two factions: The one wanted to say, "My God that was good" and the other wanted to scream out, "You stupid fucking whore; why have you denied me this all these years?" I did neither of course and she stood up and said, "Dinners on the table" and she left the room.
Dinner was a quiet affair and the two of us finished off the bottle of Merlot. I poured us a Bailey's Irish Cream for an after dinner drink and as I sipped mine I contemplated Annabelle. Finally I said:
"Why did you do that?"
"Why did I do what?"
"Come into the bedroom and go down on me."
"I did it because I like it."
"You like it?"
"No, that's not true, I love it. I love the feel of a throbbing cock in my mouth and knowing, at least for the time it is there, that I have power over the man."
"Then why did you refuse me all those years?"
"I don't understand, fear? What were you afraid of?"
"I was afraid you would find out I was a whore. The same reason I never gave you anal. If I gave it to you would see how much I loved it and you might have had questions, questions that I didn't want to answer. Fear of you finding out just how big a slut I was. The fear is gone now. You do know how big a slut I am. I don't need to hide anything anymore."
"Were you a slut when I married you or did it come later?"
"I suppose I was a slut when I married you, but I didn't know it until after we got married. But then again I'm not really sure. I guess it depends on your definition of a slut."
"Can I get an explanation of that?"
"What makes a girl a slut? Just the fact that she fucks? Does she have to very promiscuous or is it a designation for someone who does gangbangs? I don't know. I wasn't a virgin when you married me and you knew that because I told you, but I never told you how many had been there before we met. I went steady with five different guys before you met me and I slept with all five. I wasn't an easy piece. In each case I dated them, liked them enough to go steady with them and eventually I went to bed with them. For one reason or another I broke up with them.
"There were always gaps between the relationships – I didn't just go from one to the next – and I never had more than one relationship going at one time. Do five guys before you qualify me as a slut? I don't know. But I did love the sex so was that alone enough to give me the label? Again, I don't know. The first time I realized that I was a slut was the first time I knowingly had a bunch of black cock stuffed in me, but that didn't happen until a year after you married me. But once they started lining up on me I found out that I loved having multiple partners."
"I was such a bad husband that you had to go and get yourself gangbanged by blacks?"
"It had nothing to do with you. As hard as it may be for you to believe it I did love you. What happened in Colorado had nothing to do with you."
"Did love me? When did you stop?"
"About three months ago when I found out that you were no better than those niggers in Colorado."
"Niggers? That's a strange way to be talking about your lovers. So, what is it about me that makes me no better than they are?"
"You are a blackmailer just like they are."
"What, you think I'm fucking a bunch of black slime balls because I want to? They started blackmailing me about a year after we were married."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why? There wasn't anything you could do about it. All that I would have accomplished by telling you was increase the possibility that they would follow through on their threat."
"They had pictures of Angie and me that they said they would send to our parents."
"What kind of pictures?"
"Pictures of Angie and me screwing a bunch of niggers. If my mom and dad had seen those pictures they would have turned their backs on Angie and me – they would have disowned us."
"If you knew that, why did you have sex with them in the first place?"
"We never knew it until we saw the pictures."
"I'm missing something here. How could you screw a bunch of black men and not know it?"
"Angie and I went to a victory party after a football game. We either had way too much to drink or we were drugged – I don't know – all I know is that I woke up in the morning with a very sore pussy and a headache. Later that day I was told that a bunch of guys lined up on Angie and me. The word went out that Angie and I were whores and we eventually had to transfer to a different school. Years later I met you, fell in love and we got married."
"Then what happened?"
The first visit I made back to Colorado after we were married Angie and I were in the mall shopping when two niggers came up to us while we were having lunch at the food court. They sat down and one of them handed us a picture that showed the two of us on one bed and each of us had a black cock in us. They told us that unless we put out for them they would mail copies to mom and dad and everyone else in our family. You know what a bunch of racists my family are. It would have killed my mom and the rest of the family would turn their backs on us.
"It was a no brainer for me. I didn't live there anymore so it would only happen the one time and I'd come back here and you would never know. I thought it would be the one time and that would be the end of it, but it wasn't. By pure rotten luck one of the guys moved onto the street were Angie and Tom live. Once they knew where to find her she was sunk. They are doing her two and three times a week. She can't get Tom to move so she's a pincushion for niggers. When I go visit they know I'm there and I have to go along.
"For a long time the solution for me was to just not go back to visit my family and then two things happened. One, my mother started getting all weepy eyed on me because I never came to visit her and two, the assholes told Angie if she didn't get me to come back two or three times a year they would send mom and dad the photos.
"It turned into a complicated thing for me. I hated the bastards who were doing it, but I loved what they were doing. It was only a couple of times a year, three at most, and you lived here and would never have any way of finding out so I thought I was safe. Turns out I wasn't and now you are blackmailing me just like they are."
"You could have come to me."
"No, I couldn't. All you could have done was keep me from going back which would have gotten the photos sent or you could have tried something with them which would have gotten me a "Fuck you bitch" and the pictures sent. There are seven of them and one of them would manage to get it done. I'm screwed. Until mom and dad are gone, I'm screwed. You never said, what made you put a detective on me?"
"I didn't, at least not then," and I told her the story of how I came to see it all with my own eyes. "Our marriage died that night when I saw you willingly give those blacks what you always denied me. I flew home and began planning the divorce. When I confronted you all I had was what I had seen and I bluffed you with a copy of the company's annual report. The material I have came from your last visit. I had a private detective waiting to meet your plane. I saw the disgust with me register on her face:
"Hey sweetie, I'm not the one who cheated. You trashed our marriage, not me."
It was a touching tale, and if true, it explained a lot. But the fact remained that Annabelle had been unfaithful to me for years. In addition she had been happily giving out blow jobs and taking it up the ass while denying me the pleasure. I wasn't buying her story that she was afraid I'd find out she was a whore. She could have done it and faked it being the first time and then told me she'd like to try it again. Then she could gradually work her way into telling me she loved it and wanted to do more, but oh no, give it wholesale to a bunch of guys she professed to hate and deny me who she professed to love. Nope, wasn't buying it.
As for not loving me any more now that I was a 'blackmailer' so what! I'd written Annabelle off the night I caught and whether or not she loved me was immaterial. Her tale did make me reconsider my plans for Annabelle. I would still use her to keep certain customers happy, but I modified my position some on my "Don't want people to know you are a whore" stance. I did have several close friends who I knew would like a taste of Annabelle and she had admitted to a love of multiple partners. I was keeping her around to meet my needs and as long as she did that I saw no reason not to see to it that some of hers were also met.
Annabelle and I settled into a comfortable relationship. We had sex four or five times a week and now it included anal and oral. There was no change in Annabelle's routine; she still did charity work and involved herself in some civic activities. The only thing that changed was that there was no more "Hi honey" and rushing into my arms when I got home at night. Other than that it stayed the same. Three months went by and then came the day I gave Annabelle her first 'assignment'.
George was one of my largest accounts and he had just flown in from Atlanta. We spent most of the day working out a new contract and I asked him when he was going back to Atlanta and he said he was going to stick around a day or two and see the sights.
"Would you like a guide? I know an extremely attractive lady who knows her way around."
"That would be nice. Yes, I think I would like that."
"Fine. I'll have her meet us for dinner."
I called home and told Annabelle to pack a bag for a couple of days and then meet me at the Hilton for dinner.
"What do I need to pack a bag for?"
"George said he would be here for a couple of days and I told him that I would see to it he had company."
"You are going to do it? You are really going to make me do it?"
"Of course I am Annabelle. Well no, that isn't true. "Make" isn't the right word. It is your choice Annabelle. You may chose not to, but that is also choosing to leave. If you aren't here to meet us by seven I'll expect you to be moved out when I get home and ready for the phone call from your mother."
"My response to that should be, "Whore!" but then we both already know that so what would be the point. See you at seven or not."
George was sitting where he was facing the door and I heard him say, "Oh my God. Why can't something like that happen to me?"
I turned to see Annabelle coming into the dining room. I just smiled and waited for her to spot me. When she approached our table George looked at me and I nodded. When she reached the table I stood up to greet her with a handshake and said:
"Annie, so good of you to come. Annie, this is George, George, meet Annie."
I got a glare from Annabelle, she hates being called Ann or Annie, but Annabelle is a distinctive name and one easily associated with my wife so I didn't use it. I wanted George taken care of, but I didn't want him to know it was my wife who was taking care of him.
We ate dinner and enjoyed general conversation and following dessert I excused myself."
"I have a very busy day tomorrow so I'll leave you two to get better aquatinted" and I got up and left.
It was three days before I saw Annabelle again. I was in bed asleep when she came home and she slid into bed with me and woke me up with a blow job. When I was both hard and awake she climbed over me and guided me into and then forcibly shoved herself down on me until I was all the way in:
"Get used to this you bastard. Your cock is sliding into sloppy seconds for the first time in our marriage and it is going to happen to you a lot from now on. It will be my gift to you every time you whore me out to someone. God it is such a turn on to be fucking another man while knowing that your husband sent you to do it. I got off big time knowing that you knew I was fucking George, that I was sucking his cock and taking him deep in my ass. I was an absolute whore for him. I sucked him off in the back of a cab; I fucked him in the men's room at Angelo's, I took him in my ass while bent over the rail of the balcony off his room where anyone who looked up could have seen me. God it was wild. He fucked me thirty minutes ago, just before he put me in a cab and sent me home. Can you feel him? Do you like the feeling of your cock soaking in another man's juices? It feels so wicked to fuck you only thirty minutes after another man fucked me. But you had better be careful of who you whore me out to, I almost cost you a customer. George is an older man and I'm not sure about his heart. I think I almost – literally – fucked him to death."