Emily’s New Job Pt. 04

My name is Emily Pritchett. I'm forty-five years old, married, and until recently I was a typical suburban housewife.

A modest dresser. I've gained a lot of weight in middle age and wore baggy clothes to disguise my plump, curvy figure. A loyal wife. I never considered straying from my husband, despite the lack of passion in our marriage and my suspicions that he is having an affair. Sexually conservative. On those rare occasions when Philip and I have sex it's always been missionary, always with the lights off.

All of that began to change when I met Tom, a young lawyer at the firm where I work as an admin.

At Tom's suggestion, I dye my hair a more obvious shade of red, get my nails done in a French manicure and wear dark eye shadow and glossy lipstick. I overhaul my wardrobe. Sheer blouses and snug pencil skirts at the office. Leggings and tight sweaters with plunging necklines at home. My simple underwear is replaced by push-up bras, g-strings and thongs, thigh-high stockings. I trim my pubic bush into a tightly coiled strip and shave my legs each morning without fail.

My coworkers take note. The men stare. A few make flirtatious comments. The women gossip and give me dirty looks. I'm mortified, but I have no choice. Tom has amassed a large cache of pornographic pictures and video. He threatens to send them to my husband and, even worse, son at college if I don't do what he says. The idea makes me physically ill. I'll do anything to keep that from happening.

At first, my husband is thrilled with the changes in the way I dress and carry myself. Before, Philip would hardly glance in my direction when I undressed. Now he tries to initiate sex several times per week. His excitement turns to frustration when I repeatedly shoot him down.

"You're wearing that tonight?" he asks one Friday night. I'm wearing a hot pink mini-dress that zips straight down the front and a matching set of shiny pink pumps. The dress is so tight that I can't get the zipper fully closed. My breasts bulge lewdly at the neckline and my hips strain against the polyester fabric.

I tell Philip I'm meeting my girlfriends for a few drinks. He sits there staring stony faced at the floor while I wait for my Uber to arrive. I can't help but take a little satisfaction in his misery, because of the years of neglect. When the car arrives I give him a peck on the cheek.

"Don't wait up."

***

Usually my trysts with Tom take place in the file room at work his parked car. Tonight he's "invited" me to his house for the first time.

He lives in a sprawling Spanish colonial a few miles from my neighborhood. He takes my coat and I follow him through the house to a flagstone patio out back with a swimming pool and mini-bar in back. I'm shocked that someone in his mid-twenties can afford such an opulent home, even on an attorney's salary. I get an inkling that Tom may have another source of income when he takes a dropper bottle out of his breast pocket and puts a single drop in my drink.

"What is it?" I ask.

"The street name is the Juice," he says. "It reduces inhibitions and increases sexual pleasure. I gave you a little taste before. Tonight we're going to try the full dose. Bottoms up."

He pushes the glass toward me. The cocktail fizzes and turns an electric blue.

"Don't worry, Em." He gives me a wink. "I have a few pharmaceutical enhancements of my own."

We chat for a while as I sip the cocktail. It hits me immediately. A slow warmth spreads from my inner thighs. Within minutes, I'm glistening with sweat and my whole body is on fire. My nipples are stiff. The crotch of my panties feels warm and moist. When Tom senses that I'm ready, he leads me up to his bedroom.

***

That night, I do things with Tom that I've never done with my husband or any other man. I deep throat his cock, rim his ass, take his load on my tits and face. I ride him hard. My heavy tits slap together with each thrust. Tom pulls my hair and pushes his thumb up my ass when he fucks me from behind.

He verbally degrades me the whole time. *Thaaaat's it Mrs. Bigtits ... suck my balls you thick MILF slut ... Stick that fat ass in the air. Play with those udders, mom! Show me how much you love young dick, you hot plumper bitch!*

It drives me wild. I lose track of how many times I orgasm. Between fucking, Tom plies me with more alcohol and holds a little spoonful of white powder up to my nostrils. I inhale it greedily. I don't care what happens anymore.

At one point I black out. When I come to later, Tom is pressing his cock against my asshole. The tip feels slick with a lubricant. He grips my hips and tries to force his boner into the unyielding hole. I groan out loud. It hurts.

"Grit your teeth, bitch," he says.

Just when I can't take it anymore, my little ring dilates and Tom's swollen prickhead slips inside. He gives me a panting moment to get acclimated. Then grips my hips and pushes his way, inch by inch, in to the hilt. There's a sharp pain followed by discomfort tinged with pleasure.

"See how good that feels, Mrs. Bigtits?" Tom slowly pumps his hips. It feels like take a shit repeatedly. It's the most perverted, erotic sensation of my life.

"Big girls love it up the back door. And you're a real big girl, aren't you Emily?"

"Yessss..." I hiss.

"Say it!"

"I'm a big girl ..." I moan

"Now BEG for it, bitch!"

I can hardly believe the words that come out of my mouth.

"Fuck my fat ass, Tom ... please ... stick it up my fat ass ..." I back my rear to meet his thrusts, hard. "Mommy loves it up the back door ... give it to me up the rear ... your cock feels so good ..."

The last thing I remember before blacking out is Tom spasming and squirting up my ass.

***

I wake up hungover and disoriented. I rub my eyes and try to get my bearings. I'm laying in Tom's bed, nude aside from my g-string. Tom is nowhere to be found. The sheets, and my body, are sticky with cum. I can feel it crusted into my hair. The night table is covered in empty beer cans and a little mirror used to cut lines of cocaine. My head throbs and I'm tender in my nether regions.

It takes me a few moments to find my cell phone in the darkened room. I'm alarmed to see that it's nine o'clock in the morning. My husband has left many text messages and voicemails throughout the night. I groan out loud. How am I going to explain staying out overnight?

I can't find my clothes anywhere. I do find a terry cloth robe hanging in the adjoining bathroom. I put it on and go looking for Tom.

I hear voices downstairs and follow them to the kitchen, where I find Tom eating breakfast. Despite the night we had, he's already showered, shaved and dressed in golf wear. Two men are with him. One dark and muscular, the other a tall ginger. Like Tom, they are in their mid-twenties and dressed for the links. It takes me a moment to realize it's the same two men who helped Tom rape me, the first night after the happy hour.

"Well, look who's awake. You boys know Mrs. Bigtits?"

The men look me up and down.

I reflexively cinch the robe closed tighter.

"I thought you were married?" the ginger asks.

"She is," Tom says. "We just fuck sometimes."

The men chuckle. I am speechless with disgust.

"You chubby chasing again?" one of them asks.

"C'mon now," he says. "Emily is a little thick but she makes up for it with those huge melon tits. Plus, she'll do anything in the sack. She took it up the ass like a champ last night. Isn't that right, Em?"

I'm quaking with anger. Without even thinking, I snatch a glass of orange juice from the table and toss it into Tom's lap.

The men gasp. Based on the look on Tom's face, I realize I've just made a serious mistake. I immediately blubber apologies and begin toweling him off with a napkin. He snatches it angrily from me.

"You know, Em," he says, toweling the juice off his pants with a napkin, "I'm beginning to think you want those pictures to get out ..."

"No Tom ... please!"

"Is that it? Are you some kind of pervert? Do you want your son to see his thick slut mommy taking dick at both ends like a cheap whore?"

"N-no ... no ..." Tears fill my eyes. I think I'm going to be ill.

"In that case, you're going to have to make it up to me. Me and the boys are going to have to teach you a serious lesson. What do you say, boys?"

"I'm in," the dark one says.

"Why not?" the ginger adds. "Tee time isn't for a couple of hours."

***

Tom films while his buddies work me over. This time, it isn't erotic or pleasurable at all. It's rough and sleazy and at points it physically hurts. I endure it because I have no choice.

Tom focuses the camera onto capture the look of disgust on my bright red face while his buddies use my pussy and ass at the same time. He holds the camera with one hand and strokes himself with the other.

"Thaaaaat's it ... take it, you slut!" he hisses. "Show everybody how much Mrs. Bigtits loves young dick."