The Better Man

After the last course we ordered coffee and Mason whispered in my ear, "I want you to go to the men's room. Take a stall and wait for me." As I stood up to comply, he said to Anna, "Jack has to go to the little boy's room. Do you think we should let him go by himself?" I heard her giggle as I walked away.

There was an older gentleman at one of the urinals when I entered, but no one else. I entered the farthest of the three stalls, pushed the door shut without locking it, and stood waiting, feeling both apprehensive and excited. I heard the man leave the urinal and go to the sink; the water was running when I heard the door open a moment later. Footsteps sounded coming toward my stall and I saw Mason through the narrow space between the door and the stall wall. The water had stopped running and I heard the door open again; I hoped it was the other man leaving, because Mason didn't seem to care that he might be seen entering my stall.

"Hey there, sport," he said after closing the stall door behind him. "Do you want to watch me pee? I know you how much you love my cock."

"Um, yeah, sure," I replied, not expecting to be asked; not being sure what to expect.

"I thought you might," said Mason, opening his belt and unzipping, "You haven't seen it since Monday."

He stepped up to the toilet. "Lift the seat for me," he said. I got a closeup look at his beautiful cock as he released it when I stooped to lift the toilet seat. It was hanging loosely, but I wouldn't say it was soft; rather it looked full and firm, with skin that looked warm and velvety. He was right, I was in love with it. I was tempted to kneel before it.

As if reading my mind, Mason said, "Why don't you get on your knees so you can see better." That's what I did. The tile floor was hard, but impeccably clean; only the slightest hint of urine was detectable over the floral deodorizer scent. On my knees for him, in this place, I felt very vulnerable and servile, like a body slave in ancient times.

He released his urine. I watched it flow out in a graceful arc, golden and sparkling in the bright florescent light. It was lovely, I thought. It splashed vigorously into the still water of the toilet, churning it and turning it a pretty pale yellow. Suddenly the stream stopped, long before I had expected. I looked up at Mason in surprise.

"Do you want to hold it while I go?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh. Sure. Can I?" was my reply, a little confused, but grateful. It was a little awkward reaching for his proffered organ, so I had to come closer and lower myself by sitting on my heels as I knelt. I took it in my hand gently, reverent of its warmth, its vitality. Now I was really up close; I couldn't help noticing a droplet of piss clinging to the lips of his cockhead.

"Do you want to taste it?" he asked softly. The question echoed loudly in my supplicant brain. Was it a question? Did I have a choice? Did want a choice?

I chose not to think, but to act on my submissive instincts. My lips touched the little slit and absorbed the droplet in a light kiss. There was a slight taste of salt, but not much else. I licked my lips, trying to find as much of its flavor as I could as I looked up at Mason's thoughtful face.

"Good boy," he said. "Do you want more?"

I nodded my head, speechless; I was a little choked up from his words of praise, or was it the thought of the degradation to come? Because suddenly I needed him to feed me from that cock; unexpectedly, I wanted to receive his waste; I wanted his urine inside of me.

I opened my mouth, keeping my lower lip against the underside of his cockhead and looked up expectantly. It came, warmer than I had expected, warm and smooth. It flowed over my tongue to the back of my throat and I swallowed it, even as more kept flowing and puddled for the next gulp. I had to swallow again quickly, and again; his piss was flowing fast. I saw that he had his phone out; he was making a video. I opened my mouth wider, tilting my head back, both to show more to the camera and to allow more of his urine to collect in my mouth before each swallow. The flavor was not strong and it was not bad; it was bitter, kind of acrid in my nose, in addition to the saltiness I had already noted, but mildly so, making it interesting and surprisingly not at all repulsive. It felt good going down; whether that was just a factor of my desire for degradation or the combination of its warmth and slipperiness - it was a just little more viscous than water - I couldn't tell. I didn't care. It was filing my belly in a very satisfying way and I looked up to him in gratitude as his stream began to wane.

I held my mouth open until the flow stopped and he tapped his cock on my lower lip to shake off the last drops. I didn't move until he had completely withdrawn his cock. Then I smacked my lips, licked them, and swallowed a last time. "Thank you," I said with utter sincerity.

When we got back to our table, the waiter was just delivering our coffee. Anna looked up inquiringly and Mason told her, "Check your phone - I sent you something." We took our seats and watched her take out her phone and tap it.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed a little too loudly; I saw the waiter glance back as he was leaving our table. "What a disgusting slut you are," she said more privately. "Wow, you really like it, don't you?" She turned the phone so Mason and I could see the final frame. "Look at that!" she said in tones of wonder. "You look so proud of yourself!" She looked me in the eye and sneered at me. "Not just a cum-slut. You're a piss-whore too!" She shook her head. "I can't believe it! I'm married to an ass-licking, piss-drinking, faggot cock-whore!"

"He's a very good boy, you know," Mason responded, "and he'll be an excellent father to our children."

"I know he will," Anna replied. "God, what a turn-on, though. Let's finish our coffee and get out of here. I'm horny as hell!"

I drove while they canoodled in the back seat. I could hear Anna slurping on Mason's cock. When I parked the car, they straighten their clothes and hurried into the house ahead of me and went straight to the bedroom. I entered just in time to see Anna pull him by his cock onto the bed with her and guide it into her pussy. She lay on her back with her legs around him as he fucked her vigorously while I stood and watched.

When they had both orgasmed vociferously and were lying side by side catching their breath, I asked timidly if I could join them.

"Get your clothes off first," was Anna's response. "Feels like there's a nice load of cum inside me." She spread her legs invitingly. Mason got up on one elbow to admire her oozing cunt.

I left my clothes in a heap and crawled up on the bed between her lovely thighs and began licking. This is it, I thought, this is my life now. I pondered this realization as I slurped and swallowed Mason's cum out of my wife's vagina. It was a feeling of resignation, but also of contentment; I really couldn't imagine, in that moment, any place I'd rather be or anything else I could be doing that would be as fulfilling. The way it felt to press my face into Anna's gaping cunt, breathing in the rich aroma of freshly fucked pussy and rooting around in the sloppy mess Mason had made of it, was pure bliss. Anna's contented coos and Mason's condescending comments, "What an eager little cunt-licker," and the like were just icing on the cake. I wanted this moment to last forever.

I had many more such moments that weekend; Mason stayed with us the whole time, making love to Anna while I attended to them and cleaned up. It was humiliating to have to sleep on the floor alone - I made a bed on a pile of blankets - but I found that I enjoyed being ordered about and waiting on them, bringing them breakfast in bed, cooking meals for them, and being allowed to eat all their cum. On Sunday night, after their third bout of the day, Anna proposed that I be kept in my cock-cage without relief for a long time.

"Don't you think his behavior has improved since he's been locked up?" Anna asked Mason.

Mason said, "He has been a good boy; very obedient, I must say. Don't you want to reward him?"

"I think licking my pussy is reward enough, don't you?" Anna grinned. "Have you noticed how happy it makes him?"

"True." Mason glanced at me. "How long do you want to make him wait?"

It was so weird hearing them talk about me as if I weren't there, or as if I were an object, not a person. It was humiliating; I listened silently, enjoying the feeling of belonging to them, with no authority over my own destiny, subject to their whims.

"I don't know," Anna replied, "Maybe forever." Her face had a dreamy, far-away look.

"Is that healthy?" Mason asked.

"I don't see why not?" Anna speculated. "Especially if you give him an anal - a prostate - orgasm once in a while... How can it hurt him?"

Mason turned to me. "What would you rather do, pussy-boy, get fucked in the ass or be allowed to masturbate?"

I didn't hesitate. "I'd rather get fucked, to be honest." I blushed and then I added, "By you."

"Should I fuck him now?" he asked Anna. "I think I can get it up again. I would probably go a long time without cumming too."

"No," Anna said decisively. "It's too soon. I want to see what happens when he goes months with no relief." Her beautiful face looked thoughtful. "I want him to be desperate. I want to see how desperate he can get." She smiled prettily. "Don't you think that'd be fun?"

"Oh, you evil little minx!" Mason said. He kissed her hard on her mouth.

----------------------------------------------

Monday was the start of a week that felt like things were coming together; everyone was working to establish the new normal, a style of operation and a regular schedule for the office. Mason had gotten up early and left to go home for a change of clothes, leaving Anna and me alone together for the first time in days. She invited me into bed with her and let me lick her pussy for a while until her need to urinate overcame her enjoyment of my oral ministrations.

"Do you think you could drink my pee without making a mess?" she asked lazily.

"Mmm," I muttered, raising my face out of her pussy to answer. "I think so, but you'll have to sit up." My pulse, already excited by worshiping her pussy, quickened at the thought of swallowing her piss.

I got off the bed so she could sit up with her feet on the floor and I got in position, kneeling between her legs as she spread her knees wide to let me put my lips between her labia and fasten them to her urethral opening.

"Ahhhh," she sighed as she let go her strong stream of morning piss, rich with concentrated flavor from overnight abstention. It tasted so bitter and rancid that I almost gagged, but in the act of forcing myself to swallow it I experienced an emotional rush of love and desire for her that almost brought me to tears. Anna placed her hand on my head and sighed again. "What a good boy you are," she said softly. "Such a good little toilet." She patted my head possessively in a way that made deliriously happy.

We both showered and dressed and I fixed breakfast for us. It was nice having time to chat. Anna was looking forward to going to work; she was ready to start filling the openings on her staff. She said that Mona was helping her in an HR capacity and had already scheduled several interviews. I told her how impressed I was with Mona and how thrilled I was to be working so close to Mason.

Anna asked me if I really wanted a management role. "How do you feel about being the Chief Operations Officer? I mean, you seem so happy being subservient to me and Mason. Are you sure you'll like being a boss?

I had never thought about it like that and I said so. Anna looked thoughtful and asked, "Is Mona going to report to you, or is she just going to be relegated to being Mason's assistant?

"I don't know," I answered. "We haven't discussed it yet."

"Hmm," was all Anna said in reply, but it really got me thinking.

By the time I got to the office, I was in a bit of a quandary. I had already had concerns about encroaching on Mona's turf, and with Anna's observation about my predilections on my mind I was beginning to feel apprehensive about holding a C-level position in this fast-growing organization. After all, my success to date - what had made my agency attractive to Mason - was mainly the result of my ability to please my customers by serving them faithfully and dutifully. I knew I had plenty of initiative, but I wasn't so sure I would be happy giving rather than taking direction.

The morning went fast; everyone was busy and there was a palpable optimism in the bustle around the office. I hadn't seen much of Mason or Mona in all the comings and goings, until about noon when Mason stopped by my office and said, "You don't have lunch plans, do you?" Not waiting for an answer, he went on, "I'll order a couple of sandwiches. I want you in my office at 12:30 sharp."

"Yes, sir!" I replied, grinning hopefully at his assumptions and his authoritative demeanor; it boded well.

At exactly 12:29 I was on my feet and at his office door. He got up from his desk, waved me in and said, "Close the door." There were two sandwiches and bottles of flavored water on the conference table.

He unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants. He pointed to the table before sitting down. "I hope it's not too cramped for you under there."

"No, sir," I said eagerly, getting on my knees and crawling into place.

He sat down and spread his legs. "I'm having a sandwich; I thought you might like your dessert first," he said, chuckling,

"Mmmm," I said, having already grasped his semi-soft dick and put it to my lips. I kissed it wetly and closed my lips around it's shapely head.

"Bon Appetit," he said heartily and bit into his sandwich as I explored the familiar dimensions expanding in my mouth.

I sucked avidly, hungrily in fact (in more ways than one). I was surprised how long he lasted. He had finished eating before he grunted deeply and flooded my mouth with several large spurts of thick, delicious sperm. I had enjoyed every second of the sucking, but not as much as the climax, with its spasms of pulsing cock-flesh, the outpouring of mouth-filling cum, and the satisfying sensation of success and reward for a job well done. I'm happy to say that this became a regular event; from then on, this was how we did lunch almost every day that both Mason and I were in the office.

Mona was returning from her lunch when I emerged from Mason's office carrying my sandwich back to my office to eat it. I wondered what she was thinking.

-------------------------------------------

Things had settled into a comfortable daily routine when, a few days later, Mona and I were in her office conferring over some new financial reports. I still felt that our roles hadn't been properly delineated, although it hadn't become a problem yet, but I hadn't had a chance to discuss it with Mason. The only "meetings" I'd had with him had been with my mouth too full of dick to talk.

Mona caught me off guard towards the end of our meeting. "Can I ask you a very personal question?" she said, sounding uncharacteristically tentative.

"Sure," I replied, nodding.

"Are you gay?" She said it in a way that sounded sympathetic. There was a real warmth of concern in her voice that bordered on pity.

"No, I'm not gay..." I answered, trailing off with an implied "but" that suggested there was more I wasn't saying. I tried to smile reassuringly to tell her that I was not put off by her question..

She didn't look convinced. "I mean, I'm not blind. I see everything that goes on here," she said, encouraged by my tone to pry further. "And don't forget, I've worked for Mason for over 20 years... through two divorces," she added. "I know what he's like." She looked at me searchingly.

I nodded. I had decided to be frank with her; I just didn't know how far to go with it.

"You must know he's having an affair with your wife. Don't you?" she asked gently.

I nodded again. "Yes. I know everything." I tried my reassuring smile again.

"Then the baby is his, isn't it?"

"Yes. We're having his baby." I wanted her to know that I was involved, that I wasn't a victim.

"Okay,,." she continued. "And what's with these lunches? What are you doing while he eats his lunch? 'Cause you're not having yours till after."

I blushed vividly, but I smiled too, warmed by the serious look on her face, so concerned and animated with interest. I thought she looked beautiful, her large, clear eyes wide with curiosity.

"I suck his cock," I answered. I think I inadvertently licked my lips a little.

"I knew it!" she proclaimed, triumphant. Her wide eyes narrowed a bit. "But... how is that not gay?" she queried, like a DA extracting a confession.

"I like it, I like to pleasure him. It makes me feel good to... to bring him off."

"And that's not gay?" Mona said, persisting.

"It's hard to explain," I began. "I still love women - my wife, I mean - and women in general... I mean attracted to them." I hesitated, regrouping my thoughts. "This thing with Mason... It's all new. He's so... I don't know... superior, you know? Makes me feel submissive. And it turns out I like that. Being submissive. Um, to him. Sucking his cock, making him cum. It's very satisfying to me..." I looked her in the eye. "Is that gay? Maybe it is, but I don't want to kiss him or hold hands. I'm not in love with him like I am with Anna. I just like being used by him. It's humiliating in a way. But I guess that's what I like. I like him to dominate me."

"Wow!' was all Mona said. Her eyes were wide again and her big, red lips were parted slightly, showing her bright, white teeth, all the whiter in contrast to her dark brown skin. It was a look of keen, perhaps prurient, interest.

"I know it's weird," I said, "but it's been an incredible experience. Not just for me. For Anna too. We're both really happy with this arrangement." I looked in her eyes to gauge her comprehension. "You've worked with her; you see that, don't you?"

"Yes. She's radiant." Then, shaking her head slightly, she added, "But what's in it for you? How can you stand to share her like that? I would think that would be really hard."

"I know. It should be, right?" The conversation was becoming deeply personal and I found it increasingly arousing to bare my soul to this older and wiser woman. The deeper she delved into my intimate feelings, the more I felt she was gaining power over me. It was a delicious sensation, like being stripped and placed helpless at her feet, an image that appeared in my mind as I made my confession. "I'm not really sharing her, though," I said, feeling bolder. "It's more like I've given up my right to her. It's what she wants too."

Mona looked surprised, but it also looked like she was beginning to get the picture. I'm sure she found my lack of shame telling. It made me realize that I was proud of my submissiveness; I wanted her to know it. How can I find pride in humiliation, I wondered; but that's what I felt.

"So you don't have sex with her at all?" Mona inquired.

"No, not any more. Not since we started this with Mason," I said, and watched her sympathy turning into something harder. Was she losing respect for me? It seemed likely. Is that what I wanted? In some strange way I knew it was. I wanted to be laid bare and vulnerable to her. "She's supposed to have his babies... instead of mine."

I could tell she was beginning to enjoy the vulnerability that I was exposing to her when she observed, "So you're not sharing her with him; you're sharing him with her."

"Yes ma'am," I responded. I was glad that she had grasped the gist of it She may have lost her respect for me, but not my respect for her.

Her luscious lips smiled knowingly; her bright eyes twinkled with a prurient pleasure. "So you're a cocksucking cuckold," she stated flatly, "And you like it!" she added with a touch of mirth.