A Cock in the Hand Ch. 06

Me: Sounds like a good idea, but I'll need to check with Mom. I know she's spent a lot of time with them and may welcome a break. Or she may want to hoard them for herself for another day.

Betsy: I understand she'll want as much time as she can get with them. Just let me know.

I went out and asked Mom to talk to her for a minute, and smiled at Mark. He looked at Mom. "Thanks again for breakfast, Erika, and have fun at the zoo. It was very nice to meet you."

"You, too, Mark. I have a feeling I will see you again. In the meantime, I'll think about how you can repay your debt," she teased, causing him to blush.

He went back to work, not acknowledging me. I was mad at myself for allowing that to bother me. I had made it clear, there would be no repeating of the previous day's events, and he was honoring that.

"Betsy called and suggested maybe joining you guys at the zoo, for a chance to meet the kids and spend a little time..."

"That would be good. I could use a second set of eyes. When they get wound up, two of them can be a handful. That'll give me a chance to meet her and see her in action."

"Great, I'll give her a call. What time were you planning to leave?"

"As soon as we're ready. Caleb and Ashley are getting their things. Should we meet her there?"

"Let me check." I went in and called her, as Mom stood there watching Mark work.

Betsy decided it was probably best to meet there then, since time was short; she actually lived closer to the zoo.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting in the kitchen alone with Mark working in the yard, and the videos that could destroy my marriage were still in his possession. It suddenly hit me, just how awkward this would be. It was an unbelievable chain of events that all took place in less than twenty-four hours. I lost all control of myself, my dignity, and my self-respect. I gave it all away willingly, to a complete stranger with a big dick.

Now, I had to confront him and delete the videos. I thought I might actually throw up for a few minutes. I drank a cup of coffee, as I watched him work, through the living room window, and worked up the nerve.

Finally, I took a deep breath and went out to have the talk. The heat of the day was kicking in, and he had already removed his shirt. As I approached, he stopped and looked at me. I could not bring myself to look him in the eye, and so as my eyes turned down, the bulge caught my gaze and when I quickly raised them back up, his glistening chest and abs had me woozy. I found myself looking at a window on the house, as I spoke to him.

"Mrs. Stilson..."

"Mr. Thomas, I need to talk to you about the videos we discussed yesterday. I need proof that they are deleted and assurance that no copies have been made," I said, sternly.

"Yes, ma'am. I can show you where they are on the phone. You can feel free to have it to review and delete everything." He stepped up next to me, touching my shoulder with this arm, as he held the phone between us. "Here is the dot pattern to unlock it," He traced the letter G using the matrix of dots on the screen. Then he locked it out and said, "You try."

I did it and he proceeded to show me the FaceTime app, and where the recording was. As I stood there feeling his heat, I tried to focus, but my mind raced with the memories of yesterday in my kitchen. I barely took in the camera icon and video from yesterday. Lastly, he gave me access to his iCloud account, and his password.

"Take it for as long as you like, Mrs. Stilson. I assure you no copies were made of either."

"You assure me? Really. You recorded me without my knowledge, then blackmailed me with it to get me to do that twisted FaceTime with you last night. Forgive me if your assurance doesn't mean much. Do you have a laptop, Mr. Thomas?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's in the car. Would you like me to get it for you?"

"Yes, I would. I'll need full access to that, as well."

"Okay, I promise you, Mrs. Stilson, there are no copies anywhere but my phone. I'll be right back." He went to his car and pulled out a backpack and brought it to me. As he did, he told me his password. "Everbodylovespuppies!"

I had to hold back a laugh, reminding myself of the severity of the situation.

"Just to clarify, Mrs. Stilson. If you watch the FaceTime video, and watch it objectively, I'd ask you, does that look like a woman blackmailed into something she didn't want to do? I do feel bad about taking the video in your kitchen without your permission, and I've since thought about it and concluded, watching either video would really just be torture, knowing it will never happen again. Take them both, as long as you like. I've got at least a couple more hours' work. You may or may not believe it, but I didn't watch the FaceTime recording. If you do, you will be the first and only person to see it. There's nothing on the laptop at all, but feel free to take as much time as you want with it."

"Thank you," I said, without looking at him. I took the phone and laptop into the kitchen. I sat at the table he fucked me on the day before, and perused all the files and folders. I did searches of my name and phrases he may have used. It was a pretty sleazy feeling doing a file search of 'cock-slut, Mrs. Stilson, blowjob, dildo, masturbation' and several other terms that, twenty-four hours ago, were unthinkable adjectives for me.

I looked at his browser history and found nothing strange or perverted. I looked in the trash can and there were many old files still sitting there, but nothing suspicious. When I tried to look at his email, it needed a password. The same password worked for that. The only recent ones were sending out job applications and resumes. Lastly, I found his cloud account and examined it thoroughly. There was nothing new in it, and I could not find any sign of activity in the last two days.

Then as I was moving to the phone, I saw a shadow of motion outside the slider and turned quickly to see nothing. Paranoid, I quickly went to the living room and saw him still working through the sheer curtains. Nonetheless, I decided to move to the bedroom for some privacy. I first found the video recorded at the kitchen table. As I watched, try as I might, I could not control the moistening heat between my legs. The memory of his hot, hard cock filling me, pounding me, as I screamed from pleasure, was too much to suppress. When I watched it in its entirety, I could feel myself leaking in my panties. I quickly deleted it and went to the trash can to empty it, to make sure it was gone. Then I remembered he texted it to me and went to his texts and deleted all of them to and from me.

While there, I scrolled down and found some texts to a phone number. I looked at a few and he apparently had someone he was fucking that he called 'Captain Cock Sucker'. It sounded pretty twisted, but didn't affect me so I moved on. But apparently Mark was not quite so innocent as he let on. That wasn't surprising, considering how masterfully he manipulated me.

As I explored his phone for any hidden files, I found an app for the dildo. Don't ask me why, but I had to try it. So I got the dildo out and turned it on. After a moment, the app gave an indication the device was online. As I began to control it, I thought I heard movement in the hall. I quickly went over and whipped the door open, but there was no one there. I went to the guest bedroom and looked out to see Mark still working. My paranoia grew by the minute. In hindsight, it was likely driven by my lack of trust in myself after the events of the day before. I wondered how many others he'd manipulated. As I thought about it, I grew angrier with myself for losing control so badly.

I put his 'present' back in the box and back in my closet, thankful for the mental wake-up call. I found the FaceTime recording and clicked on it, to make sure it was, in fact, me. I watched myself in disbelief, as I presented my naked ass for the camera and spread oil on my engorged pussy. I had almost forgotten, that I had made myself come without using the monstrous toy, overwhelmed by the feel of my lubed fingers. I remember telling myself to turn it off, and to delete it, but I watched the entire recording, unable to stop myself.

Even more disappointing, my pussy was soaked from watching me degrade and humiliate myself for him. As I sat there, steaming down below, rationalizing that it might be better if I pulled the toy back out and used it, just to take the edge off and strengthen my resolve. As I reigned myself in again, I did another very questionable thing. I texted the video to my phone, then deleted it and the text from his phone, leaving copies of both on my phone. I told myself it was about me being in control of them, but in reality, it was another sign of weakness.

As I finished with his phone and laptop, I gathered myself to take them back and wrap things up with him. He was still working, sweating heavily in the Texas heat.

He was working in the front of the house, and I thought distance was best. So as I got closer to him, I held them up so he could see them and set them on the edge of the front porch.

This time, I looked him in the eye. "Thank you, Mr. Thomas. I have deleted everything. I hope to God, I can trust you. You should know I saw a bit of your exchange with a 'Captain Cock Sucker', and I can see you are not quite the innocent, jilted lover you pretend to be. We are both adults and I take responsibility for my own actions. But to make things perfectly clear--yesterday was a one-time thing and will never happen again. When you finish here, I will pay you for your work today and that will be the last time we will interact.

"Understood, Mrs. Stilson. I have very much enjoyed our 'interactions' and owe a big debt of gratitude to you and your mother for boosting my ego during a rough time. I hope letting you have complete access to my personal information and communications shows my sincerity in assuring you our interactions, though forever etched in my mind, never happened as far as the outside world is concerned..."

Even as he spoke, the thought of this being the end left a disturbingly empty feeling in my gut. His sweaty, rippling body, played in my head like a slow-motion B-movie scene of the handsome hunk mesmerizing the swooning leading lady. I tried to keep my gaze directed at his eyes to show strength, but I found them taking in his bare chest and abs and with a mind of their own, then they locked in on the bulge. When I snapped out of it, and returned to his eyes, he had that smug grin that quickly faded when he saw I had noticed.

"Well, I should get back to work so I can stop being a nuisance. I do thank you and your husband for your attention and kindness." He returned to removing the last few overgrown bushes.

"I did not mean to rush you doing your work. You look hot and tired, please pace yourself and take a break if you like. Can I get you some lemonade or water?"

"No thank you, Mrs. Stilson, I brought my own cooler of drinks today. I should not have inconvenienced you yesterday. My apologies," he said, with a tone of hurt feelings.

Not sure why, but I was suddenly hit by a pang of guilt. "You did not inconvenience me, Mr. Thomas. Please let me know if you change your mind and need anything."

I went inside and the sense of emptiness and finality rested in the pit of my stomach. I tried to distract myself by talking to some more babysitter candidates. I wanted a rotation of two or three to choose from to be safe. After talking to two, and arranging follow-up with one, I found myself watching him through the window, admiring his thin, muscled build, and the bulge from his more-than-impressive manhood. The thought of never feeling that again, crept toward obsession. But when I told myself, I had his present to fill that need, it calmed me.

After about an hour from our previous discussion, I approached and asked if he needed anything, and he dismissed me without so much as a look. As I turned and headed back inside, I found myself angered by his indifference. I knew he was giving me exactly what I asked for, but it didn't lessen my frustration. I wanted him to want more. To want me and suffer, knowing he couldn't have me. The feeling festered until I had an idea. I would put on the red bikini again and lay out for his viewing pleasure. Childish and petty as it was, that was the plan, and I did it.

I put it on, walked outside where all the neighbors could see me in my front yard. I only cared about getting a reaction from him.

I stood there, nearly nude, waiting for a reaction and there was none. He was shoveling the roots of one of the bushes and never looked up. I cleared my throat and had no reaction. Finally, I spoke. "I'm going to enjoy some quiet time by the pool. Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks, Mrs. Stilson. I'm good," he said, without looking up.

I had to suppress stomping off, as I went back inside. I even glanced back to see if he was watching, and he was not. I lay by the pool for nearly an hour, not relaxed at all, but fuming at his lack of attention. So, I walked inside and watched from the window, making sure he could see me. He gave a quick wave and a smug grin that said, "Ha, I still have you." At that point, it sank in how pathetic I was, and I stupidly made it clear to him as well. I returned to my lounge chair and lay there for at least another hour, before dozing off.

I awoke to the sight of him standing next to my lounge chair--bulge front and center--hovering over me.

"Sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Stilson, but I am all done. The bushes are piled at the curb removed and mulch spread. Yesterday, you mentioned possibly needing help planting new ones. I could be available if you wanted, but given your words earlier, I am pretty sure that is no longer an option. Thanks again for your kindness, and a very memorable day. Before I go, could I please use your restroom?"

"Yes, you may, Mr. Thomas. Thank you for your hard work. The slider is open." The underlying pun popped into my head, as I fought not to stare just one last time. I did indulge, as he walked away, getting a last look at his ass and shoulders.

After he rounded the corner for the bathroom, it occurred to me that I needed to get his money from our cash stash in the bedroom. So, I went in, past the bathroom where I had taken my shower of shame the day before. The light peeked out from under the door, and I slipped by quietly. When I got upstairs to the bedroom, the door was closed, and I did not recall closing it. So I opened it quietly and stepped in, only to see Mark, kneeling next to the corner of the bed, sniffing the spot I had bounced on the night before.

"Mr. Thomas, what are you doing!" I said, sounding disturbed. In reality, my heart raced as I learned I had gotten to him.

He jumped up startled but quickly recovered. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Stilson, but I just had to see the scene of our last 'interaction'," he said, using my words against me. "I have never had a more memorable 'interaction' over the phone. Come to think about it, you may be my most memorable in-person 'interaction', as well."

I tried to respond, but the sight of his boner, pushing his shorts over his belt line--stopped me in my tracks. He stood facing me, shirtless, cargo shorts tented big enough to sleep two. I'd never seen anything like it.

"When I caught your scent, I got to thinking about the taste of that creamy cunt of yours and lost myself. Before I knew it, I was breathing you in and bam, Mrs. Stilson--hard." He flashed his open palms next to his cock tent, as he said 'bam'. "I apologize, but you make me hard, Mrs. Stilson. That pussy tastes so damn good. No one's ever cum so hard, so easily for me. I felt like fucking Superman."

Fighting the urge to ravage him on the spot, I mustered up the will to ask him to leave. "Mr. Thomas, you need to leave. I have your address on your resume. I will send you the money you are owed. Being here is wholly inappropriate."

"Why can't you look me in the eye when you say that, Mrs. Stilson? Are you talking to me, or my cock...? It's kind of hard to tell."

I was staring at his dick, but it was impossible not to. I stood my ground, but kept my gaze on his cock. Somehow looking him in the eye would have made it worse.

"You've been begging for it all day, Mrs. Stilson. Stalking me through the curtains. Flaunting that hot little body in your slutty little swimsuit. Begging for a little attention you're not getting elsewhere. Stop pretending, Mrs. Stilson. Cock-slut for a day suited you. Why not live it every day, Mrs. Stilson. Drop to your knees and beg for it, cock-slut."

I could see it moving, as he seemed to be getting even bigger. He was making it pulse as he stepped toward me. I stood in the doorway, pussy gushing, trying not to tremble.

"I asked you to leave, Mr. Thomas," I said, with a cracking voice.

"If you think that's best, Nurse Stilson."

That comment sent a rush through me, as I recalled our FaceTime. I wanted to do everything I described last night, but tried not to let on. My throat was tight, and it was difficult to breathe, as he approached. I stared at his tent, holding my ground in the doorway as it got closer. He turned sideways to squeeze through the door and stopped... as his cock touched my belly through his shorts.

"Sorry, Nurse Stilson. This opening is a little tight," he said, looking down at me.

Our nearly nude bodies close enough to feel the heat. I felt his warm firmness through the fabric, as he rubbed it gently against me. My will broke down as my hand gripped his hard-on.

"How long have you felt this stiffening, Mr. Thomas," I said softly, as I began to rub him slowly.

"The better part of two days now, Nurse Stilson. I'm afraid the matter is quite serious, it seems the tele-med treatment was not successful. I think the inpatient treatment plan is the only hope. More importantly, it's clear your Chronic Cock-slut Syndrome has taken hold again, Mrs. Stilson. You have the treatment tool in hand.

Would you like me to use it on you, Mrs. Stilson?"

"Yes, please," I sighed. He had turned the tables again.

"Let's get you out of these clothes, Mrs. Stilson." His hand popped the clasp on the front of my bikini top and his hands grabbed a handful in one quick motion.

I whimpered, as his head lunged down, kissing my left nipple while his hands slid the straps off my shoulders and the top hit the floor. I thrust my chest forward, moaning my surrender. He moved to the right and began to kiss and lick the other one, holding it in his right hand as his left slid down the front of my bottoms. I gasped and pushed my chest hard against him, as his finger parted my pussy lips. He rubbed slowly up and down my length as his head rose up and he whispered in my ear.

"So soft and warm and wet, Mrs. Stilson..."

"Oh, Mark." I gripped his boner harder and brought my second hand around to free it.

"Not yet, Mrs. Stilson, we need to set the ground rules first," he said, his lips touching my ear as his finger curled inside me.

I moaned loud and long, as he entered me slowly.

"It's a new day, Mrs. Stilson, so we can assume you've decided to extend your new role on a more-permanent basis?"

I rocked my hips, fucking his finger. "Yes, yes, yes!" I yelled mindlessly, as he had me in a frenzy, I was rubbing with both hands. "So fucking big and so fucking hard..."

"I think you like it when I take control, don't you?"

"Yes, yes, yes!"

"Are you my full-time cock-slut, Mrs. Stilson?"

"Yes, yes, yes!"

"You'd say yes to anything right now, wouldn't you?" he whispered, with his hot breath flooding my ear.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I panted.

"What are you, Mrs. Stilson?" he asked in his arrogant tone, but the scent of his sweaty body, and his magical finger broke down all resistance.