Billys Coming for a Visit Ch. 04

Brooke four

I felt like a dirty whore, and I looked like one. It took me forever to get their drying cum out of my hair. My lips were sore and puffy; if anybody saw me now, they would know what I had been doing.

My lack of remorse bothered me; I focused more on what I would lose if I got caught, not the fact that I had broken my wedding vows and betrayed Greg.

I ate dinner and went to bed, sleeping soundly till morning. I made plans to keep busy and out of trouble.

The week passed, and Greg called a few times but seemed distant; maybe it was just my guilty conscience.

I vowed to be a good girl. He was due home Saturday. Friday night, Greg called, and I knew something was wrong. He was very calm and told me he would stay with Billy and needed time to think. I started crying and pleading with him to talk and tell me what was wrong, but he didn't want to say something out of anger and regret it later, so he said to give him some time.

I was devastated. What would happen to me, thankfully, I hadn't signed a prenup, but I knew Greg would have the best lawyers on his side. Maybe he would be happy to punish me and forget the divorce. I continued to call his cell, but it just went to voice mail.

He finally called me late Sunday night and said I could stay in the house and he would continue supporting me. I told him I wanted to see him now so we could talk. He told me he was moving in with Billy and didn't want to see me now. I knew if I saw him in person, he wouldn't be able to resist my body; no man could. Billy's house next door was still being renovated, so I needed to find out where they were.

My biggest problem was that I didn't know what he knew, so I had to be careful and not admit something he wasn't aware of; it would be tough.

I started cleaning the house. I had to do something to keep my mind busy; I had sweats on, thinking how many times I had done this, wearing my corset, stockings, and heels with my tits on full display. Greg had insisted I get on my hands and knees to scrub the kitchen floor while he watched my boobs jiggle.

I want to go back to those days. My husband had made me a trophy wife slash bimbo, and I readily accepted it.

The waiting and being in the dark about what he knew and how he found out drove me crazy.

I finished the cleaning and was changing my sweats for something I could wear outside when I noticed a car at Billy's house next door. The doors opened, and two men got out, Billy and Greg. I watched Greg walk into the house without either of them looking my way; this was worse than I had thought. I started to cry; I was sure our marriage was over, all because of my fucking need for men to dominate me.

I spent the rest of the day in bed, crying. I had to get myself together and get ready to move on.

Wednesday morning, I got up and showered; I had to stop feeling sorry for myself; I was lucky Greg was decent, letting me stay in our house and keep my new car. Maybe I was naïve, But I still had hope for our marriage.

I got out a corset, stockings, and the heels I had just bought. I would beg Greg to come home and talk or pretend something was wrong in the house; then, I would surprise him at the door in my underwear.

I had just finished clipping my rear garter clasps when there was a knock at the door, and I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. The black lace corset hugged my body, and the cups pushed my tits up and out; what was I thinking? I pulled on a floor-length terry cloth robe, kicked off my heels, and looked out. There was a pickup truck parked out front.

I opened the door, clutching my robe together. It was the foreman of the workers from the other day.

"May I come in, Mrs. Dawson?"

I said. "Sure, but Greg's not here."

" I know, I just spoke with him about the pool house, but this is about something else. I wanted to apologize to you for what my son did."

I gasped, "I don't know what you're talking about." knowing fair well, I did. He said he would understand if I wanted to press charges. The one guy who didn't participate in the rape had told him the whole story. They told him you liked to screw young guys and wanted to do it, even to get into sexy underwear to turn them on.

"I didn't believe them, Mrs. Dawson; I wanted to hear from you.

"What did you tell my husband?"

"Nothing, I wanted to talk with you first; you see, one of the guys you had sex with was my son. He's outside now; I want him to apologize."

"That's all right, it's over, and I want to forget about it." I felt very vulnerable standing there in my robe and underwear. The robe stopped just above my ankles, showing I wore black stockings.

"No, I'm going to bring him in to apologize to you."

As soon as he left, I felt like something was up, I shouldn't have done it, but there was a pair of black heels by the door, and I slipped them on, realizing why they were there. They were four-inch black stilettos that were just a little too tight and killed my feet, but at least they gave me the feeling of being a little more dressed.

I had just pulled my stockings up and refastened them when they returned, and I didn't realize they both had seen my legs. His son couldn't look me in the eye, but his father had seen the whole show. He cleared his throat and began.

"Tell Mrs. Dawson you're sorry for forcing her to have sex with you."

"But I didn't, and she only gave us blowjobs."

His look of surprise, not anger, scared me.

"That's all? You're kidding me; that's nothing. I thought you guys raped her. I can't believe all this over a blowjob; what's the big fucking deal."

I was dumbfounded, here I thought he was upset about what happened to me, and now he was pissed off.

"Hell, that's what a woman is supposed to do if she doesn't want to screw. A little cock sucking is no big deal, and I read a little bit of cum on their face was good for the skin."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing; I tried to calm down and told them to leave, as I had things to do.

"Yeah, you do, he said; first, tell my son there was nothing wrong in you sucking some cock."

"No, I won't. Now get out of my house, or I'll call my husband!" They looked at each other, grinning,

"I heard you and your hubby weren't exactly on speaking terms. By the way, my name is Rick; why don't we all go to the family room?"

They both towered over me, so I didn't object. Then the bastard took my arm and pushed me, wobbling in those heels.

"I'll bet there's a beautiful body under that robe," he said as his son nodded yes.

"Take it off," he snarled.

I started begging like the weakling I was.

"I don't want to; I'm a married woman; it's not right. Please stop."

"Yeah, a married woman that likes to suck dick, now get rid of that robe."

I couldn't stop myself as I slipped off the last of my dignity with my robe; why did I give in so easily? Standing in front of them in my undies and dark nylons pulled high on my legs by straining garters. I cursed my body for wanting sex.

"She's fucking hot, son. I don't blame you guys; she's better than a porn queen; what woman dresses like this in the middle of the day; unless she's ready to suck some cock."

"Now, what's it going to be? I call your husband or do what women are meant to do, suck dick."

I couldn't look him in the eye, and I dropped my head and looked at the floor.

"Ok, I muttered. I'll do whatever you want."

I just wanted to get this over with, so I dropped to my knees, putting my hands behind my back and forcing my tits forward.

"She's like a dick-hungry robot."

Rick said as he unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants down. His cock sprang out, already dripping with pre-cum.

"Get to work, honey, although it's not work for you, is it cunt."

my cheeks were burning with shame; I had given in so quickly.

I drooled over his dick, covering it with wet kisses and rubbing it all over my face; as dicks go, his was a beauty, long, thick, and heavily veined. It tasted so good that I couldn't wait for him to cum.

I was vaguely aware of his son stripping until I felt his dick rubbing my ear. I reached out with my hand and started stroking it, feeling it grow and throb. I was in heaven, switching between father and son. I moved my free hand down and found my hot slit, and massaged my clit. If these guys could last long enough, I could get off too.

Rick's son was the first to cum, shooting his load down my throat and then jerking the last few drops on my tits. Only young guys have that much cum. Then Rick grunted,

"This is what women like the most; now smile pretty, whore."

With that, he pulled out of my mouth with a popping sound and sprayed my face with a healthy load of sweet cum, coating my eyes and mixing with some tears. I stayed on my knees cum dripping down on my tits and corset.

They got dressed, and then Rick said,

"This will be our little secret, ok? I want to keep Greg's business. "

He left, patting his son on his back,

"Let's get out of here; we can return anytime."

I burned with shame. How did I let this happen?

I stayed on my knees, trying to get myself off, but the moment had passed. I stripped and got into the shower. Thankfully only a little cum got into my hair, so I only had to scrub my chest and face. I got out, and not a minute too soon. The phone started ringing.

Luckily, I had my phone in the bathroom, it was Greg, and my stomach twisted into a knot as I answered on the third ring.

He was a little nicer, and the tone of his voice softer. He just wanted to know how I was and if I needed anything. I told him I missed him and wanted him home with me. He said not yet, but soon and for me to take care of myself. I sat there and cried a little, feeling better about us, as I looked at my corset on the floor. I bought it to surprise Greg, but now it was covered with another man's cum. There was a time I would have licked it off, but not now; I do have some self-control.

I decided not to wear anything too sexy; it only got me in the mood, and I had to be good if I wanted to get Greg back, even though I wasn't sure what he knew.

I checked Greg's calendar; starting tonight, he would be gone for a week. So I wasn't surprised when Billy called the following day. I let it go to voice mail, wondering what he would say. I gave it a few minutes and checked, no message, the big chicken was brave, making me blow him, but he won't leave a message.

Around noon Billy called again. This time I picked up, and he said he was coming over and that it would be in my best interest to hear what he had to say. I couldn't resist but clarified that nothing else would happen; he agreed and said he would be over shortly.

I slipped into a bulky sweatshirt that somewhat hid my boobs, some loose-fitting sweatpants, and running shoes; I wanted to be sure no one could accuse me of trying to tempt anyone.

I realized it was still early in the day, but I made myself a martini to steady my nerves. I still needed to figure out what he wanted.

Billy showed up one hour later. I opened the inside door but kept the storm door locked. He looked me up and down, saying,

"I've never seen you dressed like this; nobody would ever know you've got perfect tits and legs under those sweats."

I pursed my lips and arched an eyebrow,

"You drove over here to tell me something I already know? Well, you're not only fat; you're crazy. Now get lost. I don't know what Greg thinks happened, but I won't do anything that could end my marriage."

Billy was sure I would have let him do anything to keep him quiet, and I could see he was perplexed. He regained his composure and reminded me he had a video of me sucking Eric's dick. He scared me, but I didn't want him to know it.

I reminded him that the episode with Eric was against my will.

Billy just smiled,

"That was some outfit you had on. Did Eric force you to wear nylons and a push-up bra and then get him drunk?"

"He's not some innocent kid, "he's twenty-one and raped me." I snapped.

"Look, Brooke, I didn't come over here to argue.

I want to help you get past your trouble with Greg."

Against my better judgment, I unlocked the door and let him in.

Billy came up behind me, put his arms around me, and cupped my tits. Instantly sending bolts of lightning to my pussy, reluctantly, I pulled away and said,

"Remember I said no touching!"

"Who are you kidding, Brooke? I guarantee your cunt is wet. I felt you squeezing your legs together. You're a common whore who got lucky marrying my brother."

He was right; I needed a good fucking to think straight. The trouble was that I detested him, he was fat and smelled of cigars, but he had a dick, and I needed one.

"Just give me a quick fucking, and I'll be on your side, and I'll convince Greg to come back. He always listens to me."

I said "no," but didn't push his probing hands away. I'm such a slut.

He unzipped my top, exposing my black lace bra, struggling to contain my aching tits. He lowered his head and began sucking and slobbering on my chest. It felt so good; I closed my eyes, trying to imagine it was someone else.

I snapped back to reality. Greg ordered me to strip and head for the bedroom. I mumbled, "please, no," to make myself feel better. But I headed for the stairs just the same.

Once in the bedroom, Billy grabbed me and threw me onto the bed, straddling my chest and forcing his limp dick into my mouth. I'm an excellent cocksucker and had him hard in no time.

I was ready, and the bastard was teasing me, rubbing his prick up and down my wet slit, driving me crazy.

"Get up; I'm going to fuck you from behind."

I didn't hesitate to turn around on my hands and knees, put my head down, and wag my ass like a dog in heat.

"What are you waiting for? Stick it in and fuck me."

"You're a world-class whore." He laughed.

With one motion, he slid his cock into me. It felt like I had been stabbed in my cunt, but I wouldn't tell him how much it hurt.

The pain started to subside as my juices began to flow. I had to imagine someone other than Billy was fucking me.

It just felt so good having a stiff cock in me. I was nearing orgasm when he cracked me on the ass. I moaned; "Hit me again," the next slap sent me over the edge. I hadn't cum like this in weeks, and he didn't last much longer; I felt his pitiful cum inside me as he rolled off.

"You've got one tight pussy; now clean me off;" I put his dick in my mouth and licked it clean; what a whore I am.

After dressing, I made a drink,

"What are you going to say to Greg?"

"Don't worry about that, just remember I own you. I'll get Greg back and save you a life living on a stripper pole, but always remember, your mine."

I was blushing beet red, and I didn't know what Greg knew, and I had to find out.

"I want to know what you'll say, so I don't get into trouble."

"I'll be over tomorrow night at about eight, and will talk it over, so rest up."

I ate dinner and laid in bed thinking I just had fucked up. I knew I couldn't trust Billy, but I had no choice.

Billy called at seven-thirty and said he was on his way. I looked great; I wore a black corset with ruffles around the waist, off-black sheer stockings, oversized hoop earrings, and heavy makeup. I teased my hair up, hoping his heart would give out.

I met him at the door in my new heels. He just stood there staring at me. "Brooke, you look beautiful."

I said, "Thank you," and curtseyed, bowing my head.

I wiggled into the kitchen for drinks, and he followed me like a puppy, not letting me out of his sight.

We sat on the couch in front of the fireplace.

"Well, what does Greg know?" I asked. Billy took a deep breath.

"He knows about Eric and you."

I stifled a cry, "How? I'm sure Eric didn't tell him."

Billy shifted in his seat and said.

"I told Greg; he was going to find out anyway. He didn't trust you."

I exploded, "You bastard, all this trouble because of your big mouth. What did you expect was going to happen?"

Billy sat back, smiling,

"You know I never liked you, Brooke. You're a beautiful woman, but besides being on your knees, you never had to work for your money."

"Greg will take you back if you agree to his terms. But I guarantee your life will not be the same as before."

He was right. The only job I ever had was as a "Shot girl." which was when I met Greg. Billy told me he would talk to Greg and for me not to call Greg, only if I spoke with him first.

Billy sat back on the couch and got comfortable.

"Now that our business is complete, let's enjoy ourselves. Now get up and show me your outfit.

I was numb. That bastard Billy had started all this himself. Now I had to give him a show. I stood up slowly and stood before him, forcing a smile. I slowly turned around in front of him. I looked over my shoulder with a shy smile and bent at the waist. No man can resist a woman in stockings and heels.

"You look beautiful, Brooke. Come over here and lay across my lap; you need discipline."

I should have said no, but I didn't have a choice. I slowly lowered myself onto his lap. I loved spankings; they make me feel so vulnerable. But the best part is the pain.

Billy massaged my toned butt; his strong hands felt good if I could forget who was doing it. But I knew what was coming; in the midst of the rubbing, he paused. Raised his hand and then smacked both of my round, firm cheeks.

"YEOWWW, that hurts," as he rained slaps on my tender ass. I lost track at ten blows. I was kicking my legs, begging for him to stop. I could feel his hard cock rubbing against my stomach; I was in heaven.

He let me up, tears streaming down my face. I rubbed my flaming ass.

"That was not fair; who the fuck do you think you are?"

"You little cunt, I gave you a taste of what I can do to your marriage; I'm the guy that will run your sex life from now on. Now pull your top down. I'm going to fuck those tits."

No one ever spoke to me that way. I was really scared of what he could do to me. I meekly obeyed that fat pig, blaming myself for my screwed-up life.

I lay back on my bed, pushing my boobs together. He dropped his pants, straddled my chest, and promptly spit on my cleavage. He assaulted my tender tits, slapping them until I cried out in pain, and then with an evil look, he began fucking my needy boobs.

Between forcing my tits together and seeing me in heels and hose, he erupted sooner than I expected, shooting his cum on my neck and face.

Billy was getting dressed when I started trying to get up without dripping everywhere. That's when he snapped.

"Nobody said you could get up. Now stay there until my cum dries up. You might speed things up by eating some of it."

Billy pulled a chair up next to the bed and watched me scoop cum on my fingers and swallow it. I was shot and started crying. Billy stood up and said, "I'm leaving now, so you can cry all you want."

I buried my head in my sheets, cum and all, and wished I would die.

"Crying is not going to make things any better. You better get used to it; I'll be back tomorrow."

Billy slapped my ass as he walked by, saying, "This is going to be fun."