Blackmailed by my Husband’s Boss — Part 2

After my husband cums too soon, I masturbate in the bath thinking of his boss!

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This story contains dubious consent. Please read responsibly!

I picked silently at my food, doing little more than pushing it around my plate, like a child trying to convince their parents they ate something.

“Are you… um… you OK?” Pete asked.

God! What a stupid question sounded! Of course I wasn’t OK. Roland Bryce, Pete’s boss, had just fucked me in his office. I could still taste his cum and smell the musky scent of his cock. I had no stomach for the pasta I had ordered, the creamy sauce reminding me of Roland’s salty cum filling my mouth.

The worst part was, I had enjoyed it! My body had betrayed me at the last moment and I had given into the pleasure of being fucked by my husband’s boss.

Not that I could say any of that to my husband.

“I’m fine,” I said, although my tone indicated I was anything but fine. “It’s just… weird, you know? Changing jobs, working for him. It’s just not… right.”

“I know, honey, and I’m sorry!” Pete said for the thousandth time. “It’s not forever, just until we get enough for a nest egg, then we can both find better jobs.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said. “He’s paying me more than Van Dyke.”

“Really?”

Yes,” I said. The offer Bryce had made me was exorbitant, more than twice what a personal assistant would make.

Of course, with my new ‘duties’, it was only natural that Roland would give me hush money. Not that he really needed to. He had me between a rock and a hard place. And the hard place was his cock.

“Well, we can figure that out soon enough,” Pete said, and reached across the table to take my hand. “After we get some savings built up, we’ll look for new jobs.”

I nodded and suppressed a shiver. What would Pete say if he knew that I had just fucked his boss and that I would have to keep fucking his boss in order to keep our jobs? God! I couldn’t believe I had walked into this situation and, in the end, had given myself to his boss.

Not that Roland wasn’t sexy. With his looks and money, he could have any woman he wanted. So why did he want me?

I felt a flush of heat as I remembered his powerful hands on me, his body pounding into me, punishing me and making me cum twice. I’d never been used like that before, and the effects of his cock still echoed deep inside my throbbing pussy. I picked up my wine glass and took a deep drink, trying to wash away the heat with the alcohol.

“Are you finished?” Pete asked after another half an hour of me drinking and staring at my plate. I burped in reply.

“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go.”

I stumbled to the car and then stumbled into our house. Pete chuckled as I drunkenly kicked off my heels and walked up the steps to the bedroom. All I wanted to do was sit in the bath and wash this day off of me.

Pete had other ideas. As I undressed in front of the mirror, he slid up behind me and ran his hands over my body. I shivered, a flash of Roland’s face coming to my mind. I shook off the thoughts and turned into my husband’s arms.

“Pete?” I asked. “Are you sure?”

It had been weeks since Pete had initiated contact. He looked at me with a desperate need in his eyes and I remembered why I had married the man. Underneath all that anxiety and fear was a sweet, loving man doing his best. I stood on tiptoes and kissed his chin, then his lips.

“I’m sure,” he gave me a guttural growl, took me in his arms, and pulled me towards the bed.

I laughed as he threw me down on the mattress. Maybe this is what I needed, my husband to remind me he still wanted me, that I was still beautiful. Pete’s body might wash away my sin.

Pete dropped to his knees and lifted the hem of my skirt, pushing it up over my hips. His face rubbed across my panties. They were still damp from my two orgasms, my pussy lips palpitating in anticipation. Pete pulled my panties down and covered my pussy with his mouth.

“Fuck!” I cried out, a spike of white-hot lust shot through my cunt. As his tongue speared me open, I thought of Roland’s thick cock spreading me wide. The lewd thought only made the heat rise in my pussy.

Soon, I was humping against Pete’s face, working my cunt up and down his face. Even though I knew it was wrong, I used the memories of my boss and my husband’s very real tongue to get me off.

Pete rose between my legs before I could reach my peak. I moaned in desperation and Pete responded by tugging down his pants, releasing his cock.

Pete wasn’t small, but compared to Roland’s girthy monster, my husband’s cock seemed thin and weak. That fact was reinforced a moment later when Pete shoved his cock inside of me, spearing me as far as he could. His shaft didn’t fill me like his boss, didn’t stretch me to the point of breaking. I hated Pete couldn’t measure up to his boss, and I hated Roland for ruining this moment.

I might still have been able to come if Pete had slowed down and used some sort of technique. Instead, he thrust inside of me with all the finesse of a teenage virgin. After weeks of not being able to get it up, Pete couldn’t hold out for long. He pumped inside of me for a few tense moments, then grunted pitifully as his cock emptied its load inside my pussy. I tried rubbing against him, working my clit against his body, but it was no use. Pete was done.

He groaned and rolled off of me, his smaller cock flopping onto his belly. I slid my hand down between my legs, feeling his sticky sperm flowing out of my pussy.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “It’s just been so long.”

Like that’s my fault! I said to myself, but kept my mouth shut. Pete hadn’t been himself for weeks, and I knew that making him feel bad would only make it worse.

“It’s ok, baby,” I murmured and slid my body up against him. Pete sighed and relaxed into the mattress, releasing the tension he had been holding in the last few weeks. Pretty soon, his breathing became deeper and, before long, he was asleep.

I slid out of bed, walked to the bathroom, and ran a bath. I moaned with relief as I lowered myself into the warm, bubbly water.

My pussy was aching, but the need in my belly was still there. I slid my hand between my legs and ran the tips up the swollen lips, then circled the bud of my clit. I moaned and laid my head back against the cool porcelain. Unbidden, the image of Roland’s smile came to my mind, sending hot bolts of electricity through my frayed nerve endings. I pushed two fingers into my cunt and tried to imagine Pete’s cock. Instead, Roland continued to invade my brain as I frigged my clit. I gave up trying to stop the visions and gave into the pleasure. I came thinking of Roland’s cock unloading on my face. I stroked my cheeks where my boss had sprayed his lust and continued to come; the water sloshing over the edge of the tub and onto the floor.

Finally, I came to a rest.

God! I was going to have to face Roland again tomorrow. What was I going to do?

What would he do to me?

I got out of the bath and dressed in a long nightshirt, then slid into bed next to Pete. I went to sleep beside my snoring husband, still worrying about my boss and what plans he had for me.

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