tagLoving WivesHarassment



I'm fired, Sam thought.

He'd wanted to feel Vicki's mouth around his cock from the moment she'd walked into the firm's drafting office. He'd been working on the latest redesign for the outdoor wall the firm was creating when she came in with some blueprints.

"Phil said you wanted to double-check these," she said. "They're for that convenience store on Tibolt Road."

"Just leave them on the desk," he said without looking up from his work.

She plopped the blueprints down and turned away as she muttered something. He looked up then and saw her bony ass wrapped in pinstriped pants. He hadn't seen an ass like it since before Amy had gained twenty pounds after Ben was born.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was wrapped up in this. Are you new here?"

She turned back to him. Her eyes turned upwards a bit at the corners and her tomboy haircut was a perfect frame around her face. Her mouth was like a glass sculpture that dared you to touch it.

"I'm Vicki, and yes I am. You're Sam, right? Main designer for the mall?"

"Yes." His mouth opened with a deep inhale as he came to a delightful realization. "Oh please tell me you're the one they hired to design the landscaping." He hoped he didn't sound as horny as he felt.

She nodded. "That's me. We'll be seeing a lot of each other."

He shook her hand. Her fingers were strong. "I certainly hope so," he said, letting a bit of his frisky mood out. She chuckled. He liked that.

They did see a lot of each other over the rest of the winter. They worked well together and got comfortable enough to tell mom jokes and for him to seize the opportunity when it arrived. They'd been working late on the mall project. The deadline loomed and they had ordered in Chinese food for the long night. A clump of lo mein slipped from her chopsticks and onto her shirt.

"Shit," she said. "I love this shirt."

"Take it off and soak it," he said, making it sure it was somewhere between half-hearted joke and pillow talk. She looked up at him. Her sexy mouth almost pouted.

"There's no one else here," he said. "It's just us in the building, and I sure won't mind. Heck, I'll take off mine, too."

She chuckled, like she had when they'd first met, but this time it soured his gut instead of tightening his pants. He figured the line about him removing his shirt took it too far.

"Sam, I'm gay," she said.

I'm fired, Sam thought.

"And you're married," she said.

I'm so fired, he thought. Visions of a sexual harassment suit danced in his head.

He mentally back pedaled. "Vicki, I -- "

She laughed. "Had no idea? Really?"

He held up his hands. "I swear to God, Vicki. I didn't. "

"And you have a kid! And a cat! What about them?"

He looked away. His collar was soaked with sweat but his mouth was dry. He knew his only option was to go honest.

"Amy and I haven't been happy for at least a year. We're both childish, but neither of us are willing to budge either. I work here a lot so she can be a stay-at-home mom. She likes the nice house and nice car, but resents that I have to work six days a week to keep it. She's not willing to cut back much, so I get pissed with her. She let her figure go with Ben was born and I've said things about that which I'd take back if I could, but they're out there and that's that. We haven't had sex in months, and I'm not sure she misses it. I didn't mean to..." The word caught in his throat. "...harass you. I was just looking for something I miss."

"Well you won't be getting it from me anytime soon." She started packing up her blueprints and Chinese take-out.

"What are you going to do?" He asked, barely above a whisper.

"I'm going to finish my stuff at home tonight. Thanks for dinner."

"No. I meant...about this."

"Fuck, Sam, I don't know. We can talk about it at the Christmas party on Friday. That'll give you a couple days to cool off and talk to your wife."

She walked out without another word. He couldn't finish his Happy Family special.

He stabbed into a cheese ball two nights later at the firm's Christmas party. He didn't plan on eating any of it, as his stomach was too jumpy to handle anything spicier than fried chicken, he just wanted something to keep him busy and away from conversations with his bosses.

He turned away from the buffet table and almost bumped into Vicki.

"Hey, Sam," she said. She looked a little drunk.

He took her by the arm and guided her behind a potted plant, thinking it would somehow keep anyone from hearing them.

"Vicki, I need this job. I can't afford to look for another. I'm halfway to retirement. No one's going to hire me when they find out I got fired for sexual harassment."

She turned away from him, giggling as she went. "Oh please."

He spun her back to face him. "Damn it, Vicki, I'm begging you."

The healthy buzz cleared from her eyes and was replaced with a vicious fire. "Who - " She stopped her tirade in mid-sentence, distracted by something behind him. Her healthy buzz returned. "Who is that?"

He turned to scan the crowd. "Who?"

"Blue dress. Curves in all the right places."

He wrenched his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "That's Amy. That's my wife."

"Jesus Christ, Sam," she said. "You're trying to get in my pants when she's waiting at home for you?"

"She's not waiting for me at home. She's conscious about her weight and it doesn't turn me on either."

"Are you out of your fucking mind? She's gorgeous. Voluptuous! Why would you want her skinny as a mop?" Vicki's tongue touched her front teeth for a split second. "God, I could get lost in those tits."

He stepped in front of her view. "Vicki, please, I need to know what you have planned. Is my job safe or not?"

"Introduce me to your wife," she said.

Sam huffed and then took her by the hand and led her across the room. Amy was looking at a model of a new hospital and nursing a glass of spiked egg nog.

"Amy, this is Vicki," Sam said.

The two women exchanged quick pleasantries and shook hands. Vicki didn't let go. She held Amy's hand in both of hers.

"I love that dress," Vicki said. The simple comment silenced Amy for a moment.

"Thank you," Amy said. "It doesn't fit me as well as I'd like, but I just love the color."

Vicki's voice was like a cat's purr. "It fits you very well."

Amy pulled her hand away, but not too fast. She fidgeted and rubbed her neck. "So you work with Sam?"

"Yes. He's told me a lot about you." She turned to Sam. "But Sam, you didn't tell me she was so beautiful."

Amy laughed as she straightened out imaginary wrinkles in her dress. Her eyes had never left Vicki's body. Sam was paralyzed. Vicki was seducing his wife before him and he was doing nothing, if he even could, to stop it.

Amy took a sip of egg nog. Sam noticed she was trembling.

"So are you here with anyone?" Amy asked. The question hit Sam like she'd thrown her egg nog in his face.

Vicki smiled. "No. I'm a swingin' single."

Sam took Vicki by the arm. "Vicki, I just remembered we need to finalize those landscaping measurements." He pulled her away as he looked back at Amy. "I'll be right back."

"I'll see you later, Amy," Vicki said, and then blew her a friendly kiss.

Sam slammed the door of his office. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Vicki grinned at him. "What? You're no longer interested in her, and it'd be a shame to let that great ass go to waste."

"Just stay away from her." He turned to leave.

"Or what?"

His hand stopped short of the door knob. "What?"

She walked up behind him. "Stay away from Amy or what? Or I'll tell the board about what happened between us?"

He spun around. "Are you -? Are you serious? I'm just supposed to let you seduce my wife so I can keep my job?"

"That's a thought, isn't it? I think you want me to, Sam. I think you already think I can do it. And I can, believe me." She looked down. "Hell, judging by that hard-on, I'm guessing you're already thinking about it."

He felt dizzy, almost sick. She was past him and out of the office before he realized she was gone.

It was a quiet ride home until Amy couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Vicki seems nice."

His hands squeaked on the steering wheel. "Yeah. She's real nice."

"She goes to the same coffee shop I go to on Chestnut." She paused. "She and I talked about seeing the jazz band there tomorrow night."

He squirmed. "Go ahead."

"You're sure? You don't mind?"

"You need to get out of the house now and then." He had to wet his lips. "It'll do you good."

"All right. Thanks."

He swallowed. Hard. "Amy, I'm sorry."

Her head jerked a bit. "For what?"

"For working late all the time, for missing Ben's soccer games, for everything."

She looked like she was trying to decipher a Picasso painting. "It's all right."

"No, it's not. Please don't say that if you don't mean it."

"How do you know I don't mean it?" She shifted in her seat. "If you want to apologize for something, start with that."

"With what?"

"Presuming you know what I'm thinking." She shook her head and sighed. "God, Sam, when was the last time you asked for my opinion on something?"

He wanted to snap at her, to tell her he worked so many hours so she could live like a princess and not have to make decisions.

But he swallowed. "You're right. I'm sorry."

He slept farther away from her than usual that night, not out of anger, but out of helplessness.

He went to the office the next day, as he often did on Saturdays, to get more work done and to avoid any possible awkward conversations at home. He came back to find she'd made lasagna -- one of his favorite dishes. She hadn't made it in months. She nibbled at one piece while he wolfed down three. He was happy to have something to keep him from talking. She got up to get dressed for the night before he'd finished.

He told her she looked nice, and he meant it. She wore nice jeans and a simple open-necked black shirt. She had a few baubles on her wrists and her face sparkled. He couldn't remember the last time she'd worn make-up. He told her to have a good time. She thanked him and then kissed his head. It stung. He didn't get up from the table for another half hour after she'd gone.

He had considered going to the coffee shop to confront Vicki in front of Amy and end the whole mess. Amy, however, would never forgive him for making a scene and airing his dirty laundry in public. He thought of standing in the back and watching them, but he feared being caught and put in an uncomfortable situation that would lead to him making a scene anyway.

So he stayed home. He watched TV and the clock. He watched two programs he'd recorded and the clock. He put Ben to bed. He watched an old DVD and the clock.

He woke up when the cat pawed at his thighs.

But it wasn't the cat. It was Amy. She was rubbing his crotch and fumbling with the zipper of his slacks.

"Hey, big fella," she said, looking at him from beside the recliner. Was her hair tussled? Her lipstick a bit smeared? It was difficult to tell in the dim light of the TV infomercial.

She got his pants open and pulled his cock free of his boxers. He was too stunned to say anything. She hadn't been this brazen in a long time. Was she drunk?

"How's the other big fella?" She asked. "Not happy to see me?" She wrapped her tongue and lips around him. He squeezed the arms of the recliner and swelled in her mouth.

"He is," he said. "It's just been a while."

She nodded, rubbing her lips on the shaft of his cock. "It's a good thing I'm so fucking horny then."

"That must be damn good coffee."

She stood up and removed her clothes. She was naked in just a few motions. "The best," she said and she crawled up his lap and guided his cock into her. "All wet and hot."

She was both. She slapped down balls-deep onto him. It almost knocked the breath from him. She laughed as she rocked her hips in little figure eights. He held her thighs and looked up at her luscious body, shining in the light of the television. He couldn't remember her ever being like this.

"Suck my titties," she said as she held one to his face.

He jerked back for a moment. Was that a lipstick ring around her nipple? He didn't get a second look. She took him by the head and crammed her breast into his mouth. She smelled of coffee, cigarette smoke, perfume, spice, and something else. Sweat. She smelled and tasted of sweat. Was it just hers? Was that Vicki's sweat, rubbed from one tit to another?

The image made him grab her hips and start pumping up into her. She grabbed the back of the recliner and tilted her head back so all her grunts and moans could escape. Her big tits bounced against his face and she almost fell off the side of the recliner from the frenzy of her bouncing.

He squeezed and spanked her ass. He wanted his cock in it, to feel her plump behind milk his cock of come. He thought she might be up for it. She was so wet that he wouldn't need lube. He was slippery enough to plunge in right now.

Then he saw them. The lipstick ring on her nipple and the smell of Vicki's sweat may have been illusions, but the fresh scratch marks on his wife's ass, five on each cheek from where she'd mounted Vicki's face, those were real.

He shot hard into her. Her moans were now the moans she'd given at Vicki's apartment. She wasn't bouncing on his cock; she was grinding her cunt on Vicki's chin. His hands were Vicki's hands, squeezing her cheeks as they both came. She fell atop him, knocking the recliner back a bit more.

"Fuck me, fuck me," she whispered. He grabbed her shoulders and slapped against her as his come became a hot oil that almost burned him as it escaped. She kept whispering into his ear, or was it her ear? He pumped until he could barely stand to be touched.

Vicki walked into his office on their first day back at work. She slapped the letter on his desk.

"What's this?" She asked.

He looked at it, smiled, and then went back to his schematic. "It looks like a letter of recommendation."

"You recommended me for the new housing edition?"

"You're more than qualified."

Her mouth hung open in disbelief. It was a high-paying job that he could've had without asking. "Even after I - "

"Especially after."

She searched for words and settled on one. "Why?"

"For saving my marriage."

"Does Amy - "

"No, and I'd like to keep it that way, for a little while at least. Just a secret between the three of us."

"Two and a half, really," she said.

He smiled. "Yes. Exactly."

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