A Cock in the Hand Ch. 09

Although this is a standalone story, it is the ninth story in a series. This chapter depicts a married woman's manipulation by a big-cocked stranger, into becoming his submissive cock-slut. It contains elements of non-consent, reluctance and domination. If this offends you in any way, please find another story. If you read on, please enjoy.

Special thanks to Kenji Sato for helping edit.

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Wednesday morning was another typical day. My boss came in for a meeting to nitpick and micromanage every decision of a job, I do far better than he ever did. We met at my main store and the numbers were better than they had been in the eighteen months that he managed it. Not sure if that is what set him off, but things took a big step back with us.

I transferred from Baltimore to Dallas when my husband got promoted to Senior Captain with American Airlines. It was a lateral move for me, but it was best for the family, so we moved. It had been two months, and my new boss previously managed the region I manage now. He was of the mindset that his way of doing everything was the right way. I had gradually been making headway toward getting him out of that mentality.

I thought the review this morning would open the reins even more, but better numbers seemed to push him back into the, his-way-is-the-only-way mentality. We finished the meeting, and I was trying to get him out of the store and back on the road. I would breathe and think of how to deal with it later. I told myself, 'We made progress before, be patient and we'll get it back.'

A text dinged in as I was walking him to the door, trying to keep a happy face. It was a picture of Mark's hard-on. I put my phone in my suit jacket pocket and continued.

"Thanks for stopping by, Phil, I appreciate the feedback. See you next Wednesday?" I asked, as the pic seemed to be floating in the air, front and center of my mental vision. As I finished the question, I knew it was a mistake.

"No, I'll be back to check on things Friday. We'll keep it three days a week. Thanks for the work. The numbers are up, but given the state of the economy, I think you can do better. We'll keep working it."

When he left, I pulled up the pic and the events of the last two days came crashing back into my mind. I looked at the caption that read, "Swelling's back, Nurse Stilson. Going to need more P.T."

Mark was a guy my husband tried to help out by getting him to do some heavy yard work for us at the new house. He happened to be hung like a horse, good looking and liked to flirt. After months of stress and frustration due to the move, he showed up Monday, unexpectedly, at the house when Wayne was away.

After Mom took the kids for the afternoon, the flirting escalated quickly, and a moment of weakness got the better of me, andGuil I let him bend me over the kitchen table and fuck me like I needed it.

Guilt immediately took hold, and I told him, it was a mistake and a one-time event that could never happen again. Wayne did not deserve that. We mutually agreed on the move, and I let my frustration about the upheaval of our lives turn into resentment towards Wayne. Because of that frustration, I gave in to temptation, with the person my husband was genuinely trying to help.

The situation got much worse when Mark brought me a gift later that evening, to remind me of our one day together. It turned out to be a dildo of like size to his nine-plus-inch cock.

When I told him I couldn't accept it, he revealed that he had made a video of my 'moment of weakness', and it made clear I was a very willing participant. In the video, I was yelling out that I needed to be fucked hard, and at his encouragement, professed to being his 'cock-slut'.

He used that leverage and the logic that it was still our one day of weakness, to make me finish the day demonstrating his gift over FaceTime. In exchange for the show, he promised he would bring his phone and computer to the house the next day and let me delete all of it while he finished the work we paid him for. I convinced myself, I had no choice.

But that night, as he controlled the device remotely and told me how sexy I was, I found myself caught up in the danger and attention from this good-looking stranger. I came three times with that dildo, professing to be his 'cock-slut'.

Tuesday, he kept his promise. I went through his computer, cell phone history, Google and e-mail accounts, and deleted everything after keeping a copy for myself. Another moment of weakness.

It should have been a clean break. We had had a memorable day to remember and could go our separate ways. But for reasons I still don't fully understand; Well well, maybe I do-- it was the best sex I had ever had. But I digress. The reality of living with the memory of an unforgettable day, but never experiencing it again proved too much.

I flirted and teased, wanting him to miss me more than he appeared to. I needed to know that he would suffer, knowing he could never have me again. I played with fire, and the flame was too enticing. Like the moth, I flew into the flame oblivious to the consequences.

To be honest, it was no longer a moment of weakness. It was a willing surrender. After round two on Tuesday, I left him that day with the understanding, I looked forward to more.

Should I have been shocked Wednesday, to receive a dick pic? The answer was no. Nonetheless, it was the wake-up call I needed.

I told my store manager I was taking lunch and visiting the other stores. Once I got into the car, I called Mark at eleven-fifteen.

"Well, hello, Nurse Stilson. I really hope you make house calls. You can tell by the pic; the condition is quite substantial."

"Listen, Mark. This is my work phone; the company can access everything. You could get me fired!"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down. You're right, I didn't think that. That is easily resolved. Hold on one second."

"Mark, wait, we need to talk...Mark?" He put me on hold or something.

"There, I deleted the text chain from my phone. You do the same and go get a prepaid, then we'll have a direct line that no one else has access to. Problem solved. Now when can we schedule-"

"Wait, Mark. This is too much. I can't do this, please," I said, cutting him off.

There was silence.

"Are you there?" I asked, distressed.

"I'm listening, Mrs. Stilson."

"Mark, please, I'm sorry, it's all too crazy, I can't do this to Wayne. I have a family." I stopped at a loss on how to continue. We had fucked like animals for two days. There's no heartbreak or great love lost. I didn't feel the need to let him down easily. "Okay? It was fun, and we have some interesting memories. Now we can just go on with our lives. I'll block your number and you can block mine. No moments of weakness for either of us."

"To clarify, Mrs. Stilson. I'm not asking you to marry me. I don't want to break up your family. We meet each other's needs, and no one needs to know. You are so very predictable, Mrs. Stilson. You get your libido fucked down and it's a one-time cock-slut-for-a-day. Then you get horny, and it's fuck me again, Mark, cock slut cock-slut for two days?

"As that need builds back up, you'll come back begging for more. I'm not making you do anything you don't want to do. You know I can give you what you need, so I'm going to make this clear and simple. Either you're in or you're out.

"You've got two hours to decide. Send me a pic of you in your slut-nurse gear from a safe cell phone, or you get your wish, and we are done. If I don't hear from you, thanks, Nurse Stilson, it was fun."

He hung up. I drove on, not sure where to go. This was my chance for a clean slate. Could I trust him, though, I wondered.

I decided to go to the Pita Pit for lunch. It was close and could give me a chance to think. As I pulled up, I told myself, 'I really didn't remember the lingerie shop was two doors down.' I ordered and took a seat by the window as I waited.

I pulled up the text chain. It was his resume he forwarded before our flirt session. Then the videos I forwarded to myself before deleting them from his phone, and the pic he just sent. I looked at his boner and recalled when I first felt it in my hand, warm and heavy. 'Delete it and think of something else,' said my inner voice.

My thumb reached for the delete button, as I recalled... how little of it, I could fit in my mouth, and how full my pussy was when I took all of him.

In my mind, I developed a plan. 'You have his present, pics, and videos. Use them to knock down the urge. The session with the dildo was amazing. Get the urge, use the toy and urge squelched. But this is the company phone, you've got to get rid of them.' I saw a dollar store down the block. He had the right idea. 'Transfer them to a prepaid phone and no one else will have access.'

It was eleven-twenty, my lunch came, I ate it quickly and headed to the store. The phone and first month only cost sixty-five dollars and by twelve noon, it was hooked up and I transferred the files. As I walked to the car, I deleted his text chain from my phone and saved the texts to my prepaid.

My work phone was clean, and in less than an hour, I would be free, if he could be trusted. I recalled our role play as Nurse Stilson and Mr. Thomas with the cock cock-swelling problem. When I looked at the lingerie store, more thoughts came to mind.

'You know, you never did anything like that with Wayne. It would be ironic to get the naughty nurse outfit and use Mark's idea to surprise Wayne. They probably won't have one anyway. Just take a look, if they don't, it's not meant to be.'

Before I knew it, I was in the store, where a nice-looking woman in her thirties asked if I needed help.

"No thanks, just browsing," I said, as I saw a mannequin in back with a white rectangular hat trimmed in red ribbon lace on top of her head. There was a red circle with a white plus symbol in the center of the hat.

As I approached, it was clear that it was a naughty-nurse costume. It was a two-piece costume made up of a white, crop tube-tank top with red trim across the top and red string ties that went up around the neck. It had the same red circle with white plus sign on the left breast. The lower hem of the top was scalloped and reached mid-belly.

The bottom was a white tight miniskirt, cut straight at the waist and bottom, with a triangular slit on each hip. It had a bright-red elastic belt about an inch below the waist, with wide, white belt loops that held it to the skirt.

The outfit was made complete by white, fishnet thigh-highs with red ribbon bows on the front top of each. The bows also had the white plus sign in the middle.

I would never have picked something like this for myself. But once I saw it, I knew I had to have it. "Wayne will come in his pants," I whispered.

"You better buy it then," said a female voice.

I jumped, startled.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I think you would look... well, you already know it. Wayne's gonna come in his pants." The sales lady smiled.

I turned as red as the highlights on the costume.

"Would you like to try it on?"

"Yes, please," I said without thought.

"What size?"

"Six, please."

I put it on and stared at myself. I let my hair down and was shocked. I had really toned up since the move. My workouts had been more intense with all the frustrations of the move. I loved how my tummy looked, not to mention my ass.

I put on the stockings and bit my lower lip for a naughty look. It occurred to me; Mom should still be here when Wayne returned. I would have to arrange for her to take the kids to have the opportunity to surprise him.

I had a wicked thought. I wished I'd brought my present; I felt the urge to come in the outfit right then and there. I shook myself out of it, but that wicked voice had another thought. 'Take a pic for Wayne. You can send it to him and not say anything, just to see what he does.'

I held the prepaid up and took the pic in the mirror. Then the really twisted thought 'Take one touching yourself, April. Wayne would love it.'

I couldn't believe how Mark had affected my thoughts. But I knew Wayne wouldn't believe his eyes.

I sat, spread my legs, and touched myself through my panties, still sensitive from the day before. I pushed the panties aside and snapped the photo of my fingers spreading my lips. I was soaking wet already. My fingers lingered and I began to rub myself slowly. Then I heard some laughing outside and came to my senses.

I left the store, outfit in the bag, back in my skirt and sport coat, a professional woman out for a business lunch. I got into the car and looked at the pics again. Twelve-forty-nine. 'Eleven minutes and he's just a happy memory. Dare I text this to Wayne?'

My mind went numb. I thought it might be too much for Wayne. He might think something was up. I pulled up the cock pic. "It felt so good inside me," I whispered to myself. "You have his number memorized." I brought up the standing pic of me in the uniform. "Be strong, April," I pleaded with myself. But the throbbing wet heat between my legs took me as it had done for the past two days. I entered Mark's number and hit send!

A text reply came back almost immediately.

Mark: There's my cock slut Nurse Stilson. I need a house call.

I didn't reply.

Another cock pic came through. This one a closeup of his head oozing pre-cum. I didn't really like the taste of cum, but I had devoured all of his, happily, and wanted it again. Under the pic it said hurry.

I could not get away without serious trouble at work so texted a response.

Me: I can't today, sorry, I want to - believe me.

Mark: I don't believe you.

I pulled up the pic with my pussy spread.

Me: Please believe me I want it bad.

Mark: Very convincing. Tonight?

Me: Tomorrow

Mark: When?

Me: 7:00AM?

Mark: OK, you know my address.

Me: See you then.

Mark: You've been too fickle. You know what you have to do when you get here.

He had told me I had to come in uniform and beg to suck his cock. But I feared from his message, he was going to demand more. Since I could not think what else he may have had in mind, I confirmed the thing I knew.

Me: Beg for your Man-Cock.

Mark: Good answer Mrs. Stilson. Knock three times.

I was panting and soaking wet. It was pathetic how weak I was. I was doing and saying things to him I was afraid to say to my own husband.

For the rest of the day, it was the mind roller coaster, visions of giant cock, guilt, and shame, wet and horny, anger toward Mark, wet and horny, anger toward Wayne, guilt, and shame. Anger at myself, thoughts of playing with my toys wearing the new outfit.

It was exhausting. I finally found some peace at dinner with Mom and the kids. She had taken them on a hike in the state park behind the house. They were out nearly the whole day. Gramma spoiled them with ice cream and pretzels. But they ate surprisingly well at dinner. Gramma made spaghetti, a favorite of mine as a child, too.

When we put the kids down, Mom and I watched a Lifetime chick flick and talked after.

"Thank you so much for coming out to help, Mom. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"Getting to meet your yard guy, made the whole trip worth it," she joked. "But seriously, April. I have had such a good time with the kids, I wish I could stay longer, but your father would probably starve, or die of an early heart attack from eating junk."

"I'm gonna hate to see you go."

Mom looked concerned.

"Don't you dare worry about it. You said Betsy did good again today with the kids. Thanks for helping with the transition to her. That will take so much pressure off. Please don't worry. I'll be fine."

"Betsy, is great. No substitute for Gramma, but very good with them, and for them from what I've seen."

"I'm going to have to go in early tomorrow. Do you think you can handle the kids..."

"Absolutely, we'll be fine. That's exactly why I'm here."

"Thank you so much. Love you, Mom."

"Love you, too. I do have to say you've had a little extra happy aura about you the past couple days. The time off has seemed to help." Her grin implied the appearance of Mark on the days off was a pleasant distraction.

"The tension has really been reduced, that's for sure," I replied, with a hint of humor and shame at the thought.

"Are you sure you can't come up with some more yard jobs, while I'm here?" joked Erika.

"Mom, you are an insatiable little slut. I wouldn't dare. I couldn't be the cause of you leaving Dad for a younger model," I joked, but in the back of my mind, I thought 'It's more of a worry for me trading in Wayne.' I added, "I have never seen you flirt so openly before. You were scaring me."

She grinned mischievously. "You're never too old to dream. What happens in Dallas, stays in Dallas."

"Goodnight, mother!" I said, in my best grossed-out teen voice.

There was little sleep that night. I was grateful, I did not hear from Wayne. Guilt is a powerful thing. My mind raced with the barrage of thoughts again. Guilt, lust, guilt, lust.

I finally dozed off to be rudely awakened by the alarm. I showered and shaved my body with meticulous detail. My pussy tingled, in anticipation, as I loaded the outfit and toys into an old purse that could pass as a medical bag, for our role play. I brought my trench coat to cover myself, despite the summer Dallas heat.

My first stop was Panera. Not for breakfast, but to use their restroom as a changing room. The transformation to Slutty Nurse Stilson went off without a hitch. The outfit did not allow for a bra, the string straps of the tank top would not cover the bra straps. In an effort to speed things along, I decided no panties were needed either. I put my clothes into a shopping bag, cinched up my trench coat over the slut gear, with the nurse's cap in the pocket.

No one was the wiser as I strolled through the restaurant. I looked like a businesswoman with white stockings and black heels off to work. If fishnets can be considered professional.

I arrived almost a full thirty minutes early and parked across the street from his house. This was only after, circling the block once when I noticed a police SUV parked a house down across the street.

I sat there in that familiar situation. The voice of reason telling me, 'Go home, go to work, take a day off for yourself, just leave. Don't push this any further. It was fun. Just live with the memory. Use the toy if you feel the urge. Don't get out of this car...'

I stared at the latest cock pic as the voice faded into the background. I switched to the pics of me in the uniform. I really wanted to see the look on his face. I untied the trench coat, took it off my shoulders and turned it into a seat cover as I put the hat on my head in the rearview and scanned for activity from the police car behind me.

Then I turned my phone to selfie mode to use as a mirror. I loved the way my tits looked in the outfit. I hadn't felt that sexy in years. The neighborhood seemed remarkably quiet for six-thirty-three on a workday morning. Looking at myself, I wondered if I had the guts to walk to his front door without the coat.

Next, I brought up the videos and watched the masturbation one first. I felt like that wasn't really my ass facing the camera, as the toy worked its magic inside me. I thought about pulling out my little plastic buddy and rubbing one off before going in. I actually picked it up, but thought I saw movement in my peripheral vision and laid it on the seat.

I did think better of public masturbation, but continued to watch the videos, pussy already soaked. I hoped maybe my condition would encourage him to repeat his oral CCSS (chronic cock slut syndrome) treatments. To have a cock like that and use his tongue as he did... "Wow!" I said to myself.