When Love Comes Back To Haunt You

We both ignored him. I took a step back and pulled her with me. Putting pressure on her shoulders, I got her to bend over the hall table. Reaching down I eased the skirt up over her arse. She was wearing thigh high stockings and black lacy knickers. I unzipped my fly and fished out my hard cock. Stepping forward again, I rubbed my erection against her lace covered pussy. She groaned and reached back between her legs, pulling her underwear to one side so that I was in contact with her flesh. Grabbing my pole with her other hand, she brought my cock head to her entrance and drew me inside.

I let her have the head and a few inches, then stopped. She was pushing back in frustration, but I held her firm.

"Ring your boss." I ordered, "Tell him you won't be at work today."

"Honey! The presentation!" Hubby was still hanging around.

"Are you still here?" I asked the husband sarcastically.

"Not much point in going if you're not there to sign!" He blurted back.

"I did all mine yesterday." I spouted. "So fuck off, and let me get back to satisfying your slut."

It was there again; the humiliation, the impotent anger. I felt my cock raise up a notch. His wife was searching through her bag, looking for her phone. "Why do women have so much junk in their bags?" I thought. I decided to give her some incentive, and went a little deeper before retreating again. She found the phone, opened the screen, scrolled to her work number and hit call. I got a firm grip on her hips.

"Hello Molly. Is Geooffff......there?" she sputtered. I had slammed into her as hard as I could, then slowly withdrew before going in hard, again.

"I'm a...a biiittt off color. I caaan't make it iiinnn today." she tried her best to say. "Yeessss, I'm okay. Just a stomach buuuug. I've got to goooo!" She finished, and hung up. "Oh god, you're a bastard!" She gasped, grinding back against me.

"And you love it, you cock-hungry whore!" I settled into a steady rhythm, pulling her hair with one hand and slapping her arse with the other.

Her husband was still in the doorway, looking pathetic. I stopped thrusting and she looked over her shoulder at me. I nodded towards the door.

Turning to look at him, she cursed. "Oh shit! Would you just piss off for fuck's sake? Take the hint!"

He scurried out the door. I think he was crying. I stayed most of the day, fucking her in every room and on most of the furniture. The Viagra I had gotten was very handy. After each time I came inside her, I got her to sit in her husband's favorite chair in the lounge room, while she licked me clean. There was quite a wet patch by the time I left.

I never went back to her, but I was hooked on this gig. I decided after the first time, to keep my desires away from business contacts. I came up with my scheme while flicking TV channels one night when I was bored. Indecent Proposal was on a classic movie channel. Robert Redford wasn't a bad guy to pattern my routine after, I felt.

I modified it a bit. One million to fuck Demi Moore might be okay, well back then anyway. However, for the women I was chasing, I could aim lower. Wave the opportunity of one hundred thousand dollars in front of a guy with a mortgage and car payments, and you would be surprised how many of them will jump. Not that I did this every night. Once a month, I might find a candidate that ticked all the boxes. My success rate was about sixty five percent. More said 'yes,' but if they both looked too eager, I ditched them. I wasn't interested in experienced swingers. I wanted unsure first-timers that I could manipulate.

The wives don't always turn into cock-hungry sluts. Some find the experience disgusting and degrading. I remember, I once picked up a couple in Cincinnati. They were from the corn belt; Indiana, Iowa, Illinois....one of those states, and from some little hick town where they had a farm that grew corn and raised hogs. With a drought hitting their returns, the farmer's eyes lit up at the thought of one hundred thousand dollars.

His wife was interested at the start, but as her husband's enthusiasm increased, hers waned. I got them to my hotel room, and once they saw the cold hard cash they were sold. She disrobed, which I must admit was a bit of a disappointment. With the wrapping off, gravity took hold. You win some, you lose some.

I got her on the bed and started warming her up, but to my dismay, hubby was more interested in counting the money than what I was doing to his wife. I mounted the good lady and found she wasn't enjoying it either, I was obviously a little bigger than her husband, and it was uncomfortable for her.

I plowed on, regardless, determined to get my dollar's worth, and she started sobbing. Then I had an idea. I got off of her, and turned her onto her hands and knees, facing her husband. Pushing back in again brought a fresh round of sobbing, as she watched her disinterested husband counting the cash. I wet my thumb and pushed it into her arse, which caused her to squeal.

"For fuck's sake, Mary," Hubby barked, "Can you keep it down? I'm losing count here."

"Fuck you!" She hissed at her husband, as I replaced my thumb with my cock. She did keep it down after that, but I could feel the hate growing in her, and it got me off. I pulled out, leaving her to slump on the bed. Hubby finished counting, and was looking at me in a weird way. Then he spoke, and it got really freaky!

"We've got two daughters at home, and I'm sure one of them's a virgin!" he said, and I saw his wheels turning, deciding what offer he would accept for their charms. Hearing this, his wife jumped off the bed with a lot more energy than she had shown earlier, and began beating the shit out of the guy. She was kicking and stomping. He was bleeding when she finally stopped. She was standing over him, gasping for breath when I cleared my throat. She turned towards me, and I pointed to my revived dick. Her shoulders slumped, and she got back on the bed to continue with her side of the bargain, albeit with a little more enthusiasm this time.

In the past three years, I've fucked the lot; every race, creed and color. Black is really a favorite. For so long, I believed that all black men were big and dominant. It was a huge turn-on to be slipping into a wet black pussy while she told her husband how much better I was, as a lover.

So, that brings you up to date, and explains why I am in this restaurant alone, scanning the crowd. I've picked out two likely candidates. Before I work out which one is my choice for tonight, I go for a stroll, ostensibly to go to the bathroom.

The first one I picked out are an Asian couple in their early thirties, that look a little out of place. The husband certainly did a double-take when he saw the menu. So, money could be an issue. His wife is a little on the small side up top, but she is trim and has a beautiful face. Getting closer to their table, I realize that I can rule them out. She has on an engagement ring that looks expensive, and no wedding band. So, they are highly unlikely to be bored with each other.

After going to the bathroom, I detour past the table of my second choice. They look like the winners. They have been here for a while, and there is no entree. So, it seems they are trying to save money. She is wearing a tight fitting blouse, but she hunched her shoulders to hide what I think could be magnificent D cups. They both have scruffy shoes, again pointing to a shortage of money. His shirt still has the creases from being taken out of its box, so I think it might be a birthday, or anniversary. She has a simple engagement and wedding ring.

So now, I must make contact. The table next to them has one of those baby strollers that more resembles a Hummer than a means of transport for a baby. I deliberately try and squeeze between it and my target's table, rather than go on the other side where there is more room. Clumsily trying to move the monstrosity, so I can pass I knock the lady's drink over.

"Oh god! How clumsy of me. I'm so sorry." I right the glass, and make an attempt to mop up some of the spill with a napkin.

I signal to the head waiter, who rushes over.

"Is there a problem?" he asks.

"Only me. I'm afraid I knocked this lady's drink over and messed up their table. Do you like champagne?" I ask the lady innocently.

"Yes, but it's no problem. It was nearly empty." she assures me, but hubby doesn't look as happy.

"No. I must replace it, I insist!" I said, and turned to the waiter. "Do you have any Krug Clos d'Ambonnay? I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, I think there are two bottles left." the waiter replied.

"Bring it to this table and put their meal on my bill." I instruct him.

"Oh no! We couldn't accept that." the lady said, apparently horrified.

"Well, he did make a mess, dear." Hubby chimed in.

Now, it looks to me like I have made a good choice. "There will be no arguments. It will be done, Mrs...?"

"Jackson, Laura Jackson. And this is my husband, Peter." I ignored him and put all my attention on her, taking her hand.

"I do apologize for spoiling your night, and I hope you have a great meal." I respectfully remark. She got all coy and smiled, then dropped her head.

I left them to talk among themselves. Back at my table, I noticed the menus were back. It appeared there may be a change of meal plans, now that money was no object. Mr and Mrs Jackson seemed to be the perfect targets. He was money hungry, and she hid what I think is a smoking body.

I ate my meal, which was better than the last time. The chef may actually be cooking tonight, instead of doing a TV show. I glanced regularly at the Jackson's to see how they were progressing. The champagne was hitting the spot, and Mrs. Jackson was sitting back, giving me a much better look at her assets. Mr Jackson appeared to be hitting the top shelf, with a brown liquid in a tumbler over ice in his hand.

Their dessert arrived, and it was time to see if the Jackson's could be tempted. The restaurant had emptied out, so I left my table and headed their way. Grabbing a chair from nearby, I placed it beside their table and sat down. "How was your meal?" I asked, jovially.

"It was wonderful." Laura replied with a sigh. "I'm sorry, I don't even know your name."

"Dan," I said, offering my hand to both of them.

"Thank you, Dan. At least let us pay for the wine." Laura offered.

"No, No, No." I insisted. "There is no need. I just hope you had a great night." At five thousand dollars a bottle, I doubt they would have had any hope of paying for it. "Were you celebrating anything special, tonight?"

"It's our eighteenth wedding anniversary." Laura said, smiling.

"Get less time for murder." Peter chimed in.

Laura fixed on him with a stare. It was getting better all the time.

"I would have been celebrating my twenty seventh last month." I said wistfully.

"The bitch left you, eh?" Peter slurred.

I hesitated, then quietly and humbly answered, "No, she died actually, six years ago."

Laura was mortified. "Peter! What is wrong with you? I'm so sorry, Dan. I can't believe my husband could be so insensitive."

I was growing cold on the idea. Laura was certainly a hot enough woman, but a drunk husband was unpredictable.

"Sorry, Dan....sorry. (burp) So, how did you make all your money?" Peter asked with a smirk, he obviously enjoyed stirring the pot.

"Peter!" Laura gasped, "Don't answer, Dan. He is just drunk and jealous."

"It's alright, Laura." I comfortingly answered. "Indeed, it is I who is jealous of him."

"Oh, right! Moneybags is jealous of me!" Drunken sarcasm dripped from Peter's mouth.

"Of course," I said, ignoring his slurs. "You will be going home with Laura, while I will be alone, tonight."

Laura blushed, and looked away.

"Swap you!" Peter blurted.

"Well, that would be an interesting proposition." I replied, seizing upon his unsolicited remark. 'What an idiot,' I thought to myself. He was supposed to be celebrating his wedding anniversary.

Peter and I stared at each other for a moment. 'Fuck it.' I thought further, 'I'd like to teach him a lesson.'

"One hundred and fifty thousand dollars for one night with your wife." I said softly, studying his face. He was thinking about it; seriously thinking about it. Then, Laura intervened.

"Hey! I'm sitting right here. I'm not a car that can be loaned out." she responded indignantly.

Peter's eyes never left mine.

"Two hundred thousand," he bargained, "and you can have her for as long as you can keep it up." A counteroffer. He suddenly appeared more sober. It was my turn to think. It was a lot more than I normally paid, but it might be worth it. He was assuming that, at over 50, I might not last very long. Silly boy.

"Done." I agreed, and held out my hand to shake on the deal. Peter hesitated.

"Peter! Don't!" was Laura's sharp rebuke, but it had no effect.

Peter gripped my hand and said, "Deal. Will it be C.O.D.?"

"Certainly," I quickly replied. "I'll just go and settle the bill here, then we can leave."

I got up and went back to my table where the bill was. Looking back towards the couple, they were in deep conversation, and she didn't look pleased. They were still at it when I returned to their table.

"...And, we won't have to worry about a mortgage or the car loan." Peter was reasoning with his wife as I came within earshot. He was still trying to sell it.

"I'm not going to sell my body!" Laura's mind appeared to be made up.

I placed my hands lightly on her shoulders and leaned down, taking in her intoxicating scent, and then I whispered in her ear, "I'm not buying you, Laura. You are priceless. I'm merely buying your husband's permission. Nothing will happen tonight if you don't want it too."

I noticed she was biting her lip. She appeared flushed. Her breathing had quickened at my touch. I think she wanted this as much as I did. I just needed to get her away from Peter. Then, she could relax and not feel his scrutiny. At least, not until she was hooked. I had a plan to separate them, later.

Outside, my limousine was pulled up, both of the front doors opened and my driver and his brother got out.

"You have both had too much to drink. I can't allow either of you to drive, so I called and told Tony to go and get his brother." I pointed to the smaller of the black men. "This is Alex, he will drive your car. Peter. Laura, you come with me and Tony."

The tension rose a notch. Peter wasn't sure he wanted to be split up from his wife, and asked, "Why don't I ride with you and Laura?"

"Because, Alex doesn't know where your car is." I answered forcefully, opening the back door of my car and motioning for Laura to get in. She stepped inside, and Peter grabbed my arm.

"Don't start too soon, old man!" He hissed.

"Wouldn't dream of it." I reassured him. I want you to see it all."

I got in and closed the door. My driver pulled away, leaving Alex and Peter outside the restaurant. Laura seemed intent on keeping some distance between us, but there weren't too many places for her to hide. I asked her if she wanted some more champagne. She said 'yes,' so I did the honors. The bar was on her side, so I squeezed in next to her, to get access to the bubbly. Once I had poured two glasses, I moved back a little, but made sure our legs were still touching.

She gulped her glass and held it up, indicating she wanted a refill. I poured again, leaning into her and brushing against her breasts. I sat back slowly, and placed my hand on her knee. She made no attempt to remove it, but clamped her legs together. "May I ask you something?" I inquired. She nodded, 'yes.'

"Why do you wear your shirt buttoned all the way up?" I queried. "You have a gorgeous figure. Why not show it off?"

"I don't like to flaunt my body in public." She replied loftily.

"Well, your not in public now. It's just me. Let's just open the top two buttons." I urged quietly.

"You don't want to see my saggy old breasts." She giggled.

"I won't be seeing your breasts, just opening your collar a bit." I persuaded.

Laura didn't say anything, so I took that as permission. I reached across, undid the buttons, then opened her blouse. The tops of her breasts heaved, bulging out of her bra.

I ran my fingers lightly across the exposed skin, causing Laura to take a sharp breath.

"They look fantastic." I marveled, running my fingers over them again, adoringly. Her nipples began to poke through her bra and blouse.

"I think you should stop that." She whispered, with her head laid back. Not very convincing.

"Are you sure you want me to?" I replied, letting my hand slip a little lower, brushing against her nipple.

Laura closed her eyes, and I cupped her breast, causing her to gasp again. I leaned in and nuzzled into her neck. She tilted her head away, allowing me to plant little kisses along her shoulder and up to her ear. I lowered my hand to her knee, rubbing it over her stocking, and moving steadily higher, until Laura clamped her legs together, again.

I moved back up to her breasts, caressing them through her clothes while I continued my delicate kisses on her neck. She turned her head back to say something, but I smothered her words, bringing my lips to hers and kissing her deeply. She didn't kiss back at first, but I persisted. Her tongue eventually came to the party. Laura broke away, panting. I dropped my hand, but onto her knee this time, and began moving higher. There was no closing her legs this time. Instead, she held them as wide as her skirt would allow.

My fingers touched her panties. I lightly brushed against her snatch as we continued to kiss. It was time to push the envelope. I withdrew my hand and broke our kiss again. I began unbuttoning the rest of her blouse. As soon as I could, I started sucking her nipple through her bra. Laura groaned and cradled my head. Pulling me away momentarily, she pulled her breasts out of their bra cups, then pulled me back to suck on the real thing.

I started hitching up her skirt to give me better access to her pussy. She likewise was getting more frisky, and slipped her hand down to grope my groin.

"Let's get organized." I said, sitting back and unbuckling my belt. "Get your bra and panties off" I ordered.

By the time I had my shoes, socks and pants off, Laura was sitting back with her magnificent breasts unencumbered, and peeking out through her open shirt. Her skirt now resembled a belt, as it was hitched up to her hips. She reached over and grabbed my shaft, sliding down to take it in her mouth.

The intercom crackled to life. "Dan, are you ready to go home, or do you want me to take a detour?" Tony asked. Laura stopped sucking and was looking up at me.

I pressed the button, and said, "Give us another ten minutes." I lifted Laura and laid her back on the seat.

"My turn." I growled softly.

I lifted one of her legs over my shoulder, and kissed my way down her inner thigh to her clean shaven pussy. I ran my tongue over her labia, then slipped away. Sliding back, I gave it another quick flick of my tongue before slipping away again. Laura's legs moved together, her hands grabbing at my hair as she tried to get me to lick her clitoris. I gave in finally, and slid my tongue between her outer folds to the hidden treasure within.

"Oh shit! I'm going to cum!" she barked all of a sudden. Her hips began humping my face. I straightened my tongue and let her grind against it as she climaxed. When she calmed down, I sat back on my haunches.

"Roll over and get on your knees." I commanded her. She was putty in my hands now, waiting to be molded as I pleased.

She scooted over and I lined myself up for her pussy. Sliding in slowly, I enjoyed the sensation of a new love box. I stroked her gently as she recovered, and she began to respond when the car came to a halt.