Meri tolai fight lo man

Meri tolai fight lo man
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A story of love and lust, of cheating and deceit, and lots and lots of hot sex in four parts. CHAPTER 1 Even as a kid I loved tinkering with anything mechanical or electrical.

I was using a hammer, saw, and screwdriver when I was three, built my first computer when I was ten and created my first network at twelve. Now at 32 I'm a computer networking guru; I fly all around the world troubleshooting and in some cases reconstructing entire networks from the ground up. If you need three or four or more networks for your company on three or four continents, I'll probably be the one you hire. I'm a senior vice president for Petersen Electronics, Inc.

and my salary reflects the abilities and responsibilities I have. There are more than twenty Fortune 500 companies who insist on my services, willingly paying a premium for me. I'm frequently gone from home for weeks at a time, running up hundreds of thousands of air travel miles every year. My boss, Tom Petersen, inherited the business from his father.

He's probably the world's biggest asshole. He knows nothing about business, but fortunately those of us who work for him do. He's an absolutely miserable creep with almost no people skills, but he mostly leaves me alone and he pays me extremely well so I tolerate him, but I miss his dad who was a fantastic businessman and an even better person.

While I'm very assertive at work, at home I'm just the opposite--extremely easy going and laid back. I need to relax after the frenetic pace at work where I've never taken a full hour's lunch in more than ten years.

I prefer to bend rather than argue or fight with my gorgeous wife, Amanda. That's why I wound up in this damned chastity device. It just wasn't worth the hassle. "I don't like you being away for so long, honey. There are so many temptations out there.

I'm afraid you'll stray. I'll feel so much better if I know you will always be faithful, and with this I'll be sure." I tried to keep calm and make my statements logical and sane, but nothing I said made any impression on her even though I had never even been remotely interested in any other woman.

I wound up in a Birdlocked silicone cock cage. The "agreement" was that I would wear it when away from her, even at work in my office, but remove it when I was home with her. She still gave me plenty of incredible sex, sometimes even better and kinkier than we'd had before. I decided it was OK, well—not actually OK, but tolerable.

I had learned at an early age to pick my battles. I loved my wife and that was the most important thing. "Honey, c'mon upstairs," my 29 year-old wife, Amanda, called to me.

I walked into the bedroom to find her in a really sexy teddy—wine red with open bra cups, revealing her sumptuous tits with their large brown areolas and nipples. "Time to get naked, Jack; I want to play." I stripped off my clothes in about ten seconds, leaving them in a pile on the floor.

She unlocked the cage and pulled it off me. "C'mon Honey, lie down on the bed. I want to tie you up." I looked daggers at her. We'd never done anything like that. I always enjoyed the freedom of movement that encouraged spontaneity between us.

Once again she ignored me, tying my wrists to the bed posts. Minutes later I was spread-eagled on the bed. She was grinning with delight; I was pissed, but I didn't show it. Amanda climbed over me, rubbing her big tits over my face. I tied to suckle, but every time I did she pulled back laughing. I was finding the whole experience frustrating. It was going to get worse.

Amanda sat on my chest and unsnapped the bottom of the teddy, exposing her cleanly shaved pussy. When the hell did she do that? And why? I had never shown any interest in her shaving. She moved forward, covering my mouth with her sex. I inhaled deeply and extended my tongue, just tickling and teasing with the tip. She reached behind her to find my balls and cock.

She squeezed my balls threateningly, "Don't tease me, Jack. I need your tongue in me. You're not in a position to argue, are you?" I had to admit she had me by the balls—literally as well as figuratively. I dove in eagerly; she gripped my cock and stroked me slowly, not wanting the scenario to end too abruptly. I tongue fucked her as fast and hard as I could, curving my tongue up at the end to reach her G-spot.

I knew I was successful when she began squirming on my face. She suddenly slid down my body onto my cock and began to rock, the ecstasy etched onto her face. My cock isn't unusually long at seven and a half inches, but it is nice and thick, kind of like a bologna or liverwurst one might see in a deli. I was quite the cocksman before getting married. Once women found out about my cock, even from their friends, they often decided they had to have it.

I've even had women fight over it, so maybe Amanda was right to have it locked up. I drove my cock into her with ferocious energy, stretching her poor vagina brutally and pounding her cervix with every thrust. I knew it hurt, but Amanda loved it. I tried to reach up into the teddy to pull and pinch her hard nipples; that's when I remembered how I was tied down to the bed. She lowered her face to mine as she attacked my mouth with hers. Her tongue was all over mine as she sucked it into her mouth.

I loved Amanda when she was like this—totally out of control. We went at it like animals for more than ten minutes when I began to feel it—that sensation deep within my core that moved quickly to my balls and up my cock. I blew a huge load of cum into her cunt just as she shook in one violent convulsion. She fell onto my chest as I longed to hold and caress her; I hated being tied up and denied this way.

Amanda, never Mandy, stayed on my chest for quite a while before rising to clean my cock. This was a ritual she always practiced when she was going to lock it up again.

I didn't understand, but I soon would. "You know, Jack, I realized a few weeks ago that you could break this little lock pretty easily." She was holding the small padlock that came with the Birdlocked. "Well, I suppose I could, but I never tried so what's the point?" "I asked you to wear this so I could be sure you'd be faithful and now I find that you could get out any time you wanted, like if we had an argument or a fight." "Amanda," I said calmly, "when's the last time we had either?" "I can't remember, but we could and you could…I don't like that.

That's the reason I got this." She showed me a cock cage made of stainless steel. Inside I was seething; on the outside I was like that old song, "I ain't no fool, I kept my cool" while she fitted the device to my body. Now I understood her need to tie me up. It would never happen if I weren't. She beamed when she showed me the security screws and the insert that would prevent me from pulling out. She untied me once she was done.

It was time for bed so she went to sleep as I glared at her for quite a while. Finally, I decided I would play my ace in the hole.

CHAPTER 2 I grew up in this area and I still have plenty of friends here…on both sides of the law. One of my closest was Mike Andrews. We always sat next to each other in elementary school…Anderson (me) and Andrews (him).

How could we be anything but friends? He was running the machine shop his dad had started when we were both kids in the same neighborhood.

I stopped in to see him before work. "Hey…it's the big executive," he shouted in greeting. "Hey, it's the millionaire business owner," I replied. We hugged as he asked why I was gracing him with my presence. 'I need to see you about something…in your office." He looked at me, recognized I was serious and turned to begin the short stroll to his tiny office. I closed and locked the door. "Now, don't laugh or I'll have to kick your ass like I used to in junior high." Mike chuckled, "I thought I was the one who did the ass kicking." "You were, but I needed you to understand the bind I'm in." I dropped my pants and showed him the cock cage.

He was dumbfounded. "Amanda's idea, obviously; I hate the fucking thing. Just tell me you can get it off." He knelt in front of me and took a tissue from his desk so he wouldn't have to touch my ball sac.

"What do you want to do—cut it off or unscrew it? I could probably do either one. Personally I think the key is a better idea. You won't have to worry about being cut or bruised." He looked again. "Let me take some measurements and I'll have it for you by noon." "I owe you, buddy.

What do you say to lunch Friday…you pick the restaurant." I never took lunch but this was a special occasion. He agreed, even though I knew he would have done it for nothing. He pulled a pair of calipers from his pocket and measured the distance between the tiny holes in the screws.

Then he tried a few thin rods to determine the diameter he'd need for the key's inserts. Finally, he made a tracing with a pencil and sheet of paper. He gave me the "Okay" sign when he was done. "Piece of cake, but do me a favor and pull your pants up before someone sees us." He patted me on the back as we both broke out laughing.

I left and continued on my way to work. For some reason my asshole boss greeted me with a smirk as if he knew what was going on. I met Mike for lunch and he pulled the shiny key from his pocket.

I excused myself to the men's room and tried it out in a stall—perfect. I returned to Mike and thanked him profusely. I was barely willing to wear the original cage, but not this one which was forced on me. She put it onto me every day when I left for work.

As soon as I reached the office I'd go to the men's room and remove it and hide it in my briefcase only to put it back on when I left for home where Amanda would remove it again. I never wore it for more than an hour a day, and usually for much less. About a month later I was off to Rome. I wore the cage as I boarded our company jet, but removed it as soon as I was aboard. The client was thrilled to see that I had been sent to address his problems. I anticipated taking two weeks on the project, but was able to get it done in less.

I flew home two days early, planning to surprise my wife. Instead, I got the surprise of my life. As I drove up the street I saw a car in my driveway. I recognized it immediately. It belonged to my obnoxious asshole boss. He might have had a reason if I was expected home, but I wasn't. I pulled up behind a van about a block away and waited, my BMW Z4 well hidden behind it. In about a half hour I saw him exit the house with Amanda. She looked up and down the street and, seeing no one, she kissed him passionately as he zipped up his pants.

I was in shock—my wife who claimed to be so concerned about me cheating on her was cheating on me instead, and with my boss. I was fuming, but as I said earlier—"I ain't no fool, I kept my cool." I ducked down as Tom drove past my car.

I waited until Amanda was back in the house before pulling out and driving down the street past the house toward a big electronics supplier I had used often in the past. I phoned her from there and told her I was back early and calling from the airport. I'd be home in about an hour. Meanwhile, I bought the surveillance equipment I needed, storing it temporarily in my trunk. I drove home to my loving wife. Amanda greeted me as always. She couldn't wait to get my cock cage off so we could fuck.

Unlike her I had actually abstained for the past two weeks so I was ready and eager, even with a lying whore like her. She led me upstairs to the bedroom, stripped me, and knelt to take me into her mouth. She sucked my hard thick cock, licking around the head and down the shaft. Under other circumstances I would have pulled her up to the bed for a 69, but I wasn't about to lick where Tom Petersen had no doubt put his cock earlier this afternoon. Instead, I stood there while she blew me until I came in her mouth and all over her face.

I knew she hated that, but I told her I was just so horny for her I couldn't help myself. She looked funny with cum all over mouth, cheeks, and hair. She rushed up to the bath room to wash as I smirked behind her back. I unpacked my suitcase and went to the car for my special equipment, taking it to my basement workshop where I knew she would never find it.

For one thing I always kept it locked having told her on many occasions that there was both expensive and also dangerous equipment there that could injure or even kill her from the high voltage. It was all bullshit, but I just didn't want her playing with my things. I found a place for the DVD recorder and radio receiver/transmitter.

I connected them and plugged them into the wall outlet. I tried out the tiny cameras, checked the video screen, and read the DVD. It all worked perfectly. Now all I had to do was find places for the fiber optic cameras.

I had my chance when Amanda suggested she pick up some Chinese for dinner. I knew she'd be gone for at least forty minutes. There was a painting just above the headboard of the bed. Initially, I thought that would be ideal, but it was too close. All I was able to see was the foot of the bed.

I moved to my armoire against the opposite wall. The doors were walnut frames with rattan so there were plenty of holes for the camera. My only problem would be if she discovered it when she opened the door to put my laundry away. Then I realized that she would never find anything on the top. It was six feet high and she was five feet eight. I placed the camera up there, bending the thin fiber optic lens toward the bed.

It was hidden almost perfectly by some molding.

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I cut a tiny notch there with my pen knife to hold the lens steady before taping it in place. My next stop was the living room. I hid the camera there among some of my technical books that she never touched.

Even Tom Petersen would ignore them. He was a spoiled brat who majored in Philosophy, not an engineer like me. Once again I checked the video screen and used the radio command unit to turn them off—no sense killing the batteries.

I left them off until my next trip three weeks later. Meanwhile I made some other plans. I'd teach them to fuck with me! I went online shopping for two very special items. I had them custom made at a cost of $2500 each. They were delivered to my office marked, "Mr. Jack Anderson Personal." I told my secretary I was expecting a package—a surprise for Amanda—and asked her to place it in my closet on delivery.

I also looked up another old friend. Jerry Moore had been a dealer while we were in school. We were good friends even though I never bought or even used anything.

I did provide him with an alibi one evening when the police came calling. He told me he'd never forget. Now I was hoping he'd remember, even though it was years ago.

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His office was over a bowling alley. You could hear the pins falling through the floor. "Jack…I don't believe it. I haven't seen you in…how long is it now?" "A while, Jerry…that's for sure…sorry." He waved it off, "Let's face it…I'm not exactly the kind of person a model citizen like you wants to be seen around.

I understand. Don't worry about it." "I need a favor, Jerry," I began. I told him about Amanda and my boss and how I planned to get the goods on them. Then I told him of my other plans, "So I need a way to knock them out.

I don't know how yet, but I may get a clue when I go away next." "Hell, Jack, if it was me I'd just rush in there while they're doin' it and kill 'em" "I thought about that, but I think my way will be more fun—fun for me, that is." "Let me know how you want to do it and I promise you I'll find the right drug for you.

I still remember how you came through for me when I needed you." We rose, shook hands, and I left. The following day I was told to make plans. I was needed in London for about a week.

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CHAPTER 3 I made sure everything was working perfectly before I left. The cameras were motion activated and I had several DVD's stacked within the recorder for use. I kissed Amanda good-bye and left, knowing that Tom would be stopping by soon. I didn't know how often he visited my whore, but I'd find out soon enough. I returned on schedule and called Amanda from the airport; there was no answer.

I left a message and drove home. She was still out when I returned home so I headed straight for my workshop. I couldn't believe it. Tom Petersen had come to fuck my wife before I had even taken off. Worse, he had come every single day and almost every night. He had fucked Amanda seventeen times in my absence. My neighbors must have noticed and I wondered what he told his wife.

Nancy was a wonderful woman—friendly, vivacious, gorgeous, and much too good for Tom. I noticed something in every rendezvous—Amanda always gave him a glass of white wine. In fact I had noticed the bottle in the refrigerator before I left. That was exactly what I was looking for. I heard Amanda come in when she called for me. I shut down my spy equipment and went to greet her.

I was eager for her despite her adultery, but when the time came I lost my erection. I also refused to go down on her claiming a cold from the dank London weather. I always took the day after a trip off from work. Tom didn't like it, but what could he do? Fire me?

I'd already been approached by his biggest competitor—William Wells & Company—but I had turned them down. They were much smaller and couldn't afford my salary, but now I had an idea, one which would abet me in my revenge. I met with Jerry that afternoon; he told me he had just the thing. He gave it to me, refusing to be paid even though I knew it was worth considerably more than a hundred bucks.

I put it into my briefcase in the trunk of the Z4. The next few weeks were routine. Amanda locked the cock cage onto me, I removed it at work, restoring it before the end of the day, and she removed it yet again once I was home with her. I was sure she was eagerly anticipating my next trip. Unknown to her, so was I. It was a Thursday afternoon when Tom entered my office to tell me that I was needed in Cape Town at Smythe & Associates, Ltd., one of our biggest and most important clients.

I told him I would leave in the morning. Because of maintenance problems on the company plane I was forced to use a commercial flight. I had my secretary make the arrangements, but on the way home I changed them for the following day. Because I was taking a commercial flight the stainless cage was out of the question. Amanda put the old Birdlocked on me with a numbered plastic lock so I could go through security without a problem.

I kissed her good-bye and drove away. All I did was drive to the nearest Starbucks. I used the men's room where I ripped off the plastic lock and, though tempted to throw the cage into the trash, I placed it into my briefcase—never again would I consent to wear such a monstrosity! I bought a muffin and some juice and set up my laptop. Using the free wi-fi I accessed the security feed from my house. Tom showed up around ten that morning.

I waited patiently watching the video on my email. Setting the whole thing up was a cinch for a person with my skills and knowledge. Amanda greeted him with a tremendous kiss in the living room. He groped her breast and reached under her skirt to finger her cunt.

Amanda broke away to the kitchen. She was opening the wine; I doubted she would notice the tiny hole left by the hypodermic needle. The syringe was loaded with a powerful sedative, one that would guarantee they'd sleep for hours and hours—a minimum of eight according to Jerry. She handed him a glass and they toasted before drinking. They had another and another before they retired to the bedroom.

They undressed and tried to make love, but they never got the chance. They were both unconscious in minutes. Returning to my car I drove back to the house where I removed my parcel from the trunk and walked in, going directly to the bedroom. I stroked my wife's hair and arranged her on the bed so her legs hung over the side. Opening the box I removed her chastity belt—the finest money could buy made of titanium with stainless steel locks. I pulled it up her legs and over her butt, joining the two sides together and locking them in place.

This belt used cylindrical keys and the locks were virtually pick-proof. There was one on each side and both keys had to be used simultaneously or it wouldn't open.

I slid her back onto the bed admiring her new garment—how tightly it molded to her body. She'd have to watch her weight in the future or the belt would cut her in two. Now I got to Tom. I followed the same procedure, but I put on surgical gloves so I wouldn't have to touch any of his revolting equipment.

It took a bit longer, but eventually his belt was in place and just as tightly as Amanda's—hopefully even tighter. I returned him to the bed and went downstairs for my next gift. I went to my workshop, removing the small box. I opened it once I was back in the bedroom. I combed Amanda's bangs straight down over her forehead. Using the comb as a guide I cut them back to only a half inch.

I brushed the shorn hairs off her forehead and pulled my epoxy paint pen from the box. I bought it at a crafts store and the sales clerk assured me it was by far the most permanent marker available. I shook it, mixing the two parts together.


In the center of her forehead I placed a big red "O." I drew an "H" just to the left and an "R" to the right. I continued with a "W" on the far left and an "E" on the far right. Now her forehead was marked beautifully.

W…H…O…R…E. I continued with "SLUT" on each cheek and "COCKSUCKER" on her chin. I moved over to Tom.

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He always wore his hair long like some kind of anti-establishment freak. I cut it away, using the trimmers to a half-inch all over his head. I wrote "ADULTURER" on his forehead and "LYING SCUMBAG" across his cheeks. Finally, I wrote "ASSHOLE" across his chin. I pulled the vacuum from the hall closet and cleaned up the mess. Originally I had thought of having Mike crush my stainless cock cage, but now I had another—better—idea.

I sought the key in her jewelry box and the receipts in her records drawer. I had a thought that I might be able to use them in the divorce proceedings. I placed them in my car and returned to finish the cleanup. I washed the wine glasses and the bottle, removing any trace of the water-soluble drug. I left, locked the door and went to a motel near the airport where I called my secretary and asked her to join me.

Marcie was an incredibly beautiful woman, five feet nine inches tall with a nice trim body and pert B-cup breasts. Her reddish brown hair and flashing blue eyes only added to her beauty. She and I had teased each other almost daily for more than a year.

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On several occasions I had told her I'd be seriously interested if I wasn't married. She had said the same. She was surprised that I wasn't yet en route to Cape Town. I told her I'd explain when she arrived. "Don't worry about work. I'll cover for you," I told her before ending the call.

It was just past two that afternoon when she arrived. I could see she was a bit put out. "Just sit in the chair and watch this DVD. It will explain everything." She watched in awe as Amanda and Tom fucked in our bed again and again and again. "This is what happens every time I go away. I first found out about it a few months ago, but no more.

In fact, neither of them will be fucking anyone any time soon. I showed her a few pictures I had taken with my phone. "Are those what I think they are?" "You mean chastity belts? Yeah, that's exactly what they are. I have the keys for Amanda's right here. I threw Tom's in the river." "You mean…?" "Right…he's stuck in it forever, unless he finds a way to cut through titanium which usually requires a torch or unless I for some unknown reason order new ones from the company.

I'm the only one who can. I've sent a copy of the DVD to Nancy by messenger. Now, here's a question for you…do you want to keep working for me?

I'm planning to call Bill Wells and accept his employment offer. I think he'll match my salary if I can bring our big clients with me." "Yes, Jack I'll follow you anywhere. You know that. What about you and Amanda?" I showed her the divorce papers. "They'll be served tomorrow when I'm in South Africa…if I even go. The price of the divorce will be the keys to her belt. She's going to get next to nothing—exactly what she deserves. Now, I want to phone Bill." I dialed Bill Wells; his secretary answered, "Hi, Jack Anderson here for Bill." "I'm sorry, but he's in conference." "No problem, just interrupt him…trust me, he'll take the call once you tell him I'm coming to work for him." Two minutes later he came to the phone.

We spoke for ten minutes and hashed out everything of importance. I assured him that I would be able to deliver the top fifteen clients, and probably more, once they learned what a scumbag Tom Petersen was. He promised Marcie a raise for coming with me. I ended the call and looked at Marcie. I held out my hand and pulled her into an embrace. Our kiss was tender and sweet as our tongues explored new uncharted territory. I broke the kiss and pulled back a bit. "You ready for this?" "Jack…darling, I've been ready for a long time.

Unfortunately, you were too loyal." She stepped back and began to unbutton her blouse, but I stopped her so I could do it myself. It was hard to believe that in an era of so much promiscuity we had abstained from each other's pleasure for well more than a year.

Now all those barriers were gone. There was nothing to stop our love. My lips found her sensitive neck as I removed her blouse. They stayed pressed against her smooth soft skin as I moved behind her to unhook and drop her bra to the floor.

My hands found the button to her skirt and it too fell into the pile along with her cute pink boy shorts. She turned to me and slipped her arms around my neck. She lifted my chin with her finger. When our eyes met she slipped a finger into my mouth then two. I sucked like I haven't sucked since my childhood. When she pulled them out she replaced them with her lips. The kiss was even better than our first.

There was raw passion between us—raw savage passion, passion without boundaries or limits. She tore my clothes from my body. I stood there in rags as our kiss continued. We stumbled as I tripped over my pants, falling luckily onto the bed. This was one time when I was glad the room was small. I shrugged out of my remaining clothes and we were naked together like teenagers experiencing love and sex for the very first time.

"Wow," she exclaimed once her hand had found my rock hard cock. "This thing could do a world of damage, but what fun we would have." In response my fingers found her sex. She was tight, but extremely wet.

I moved between her legs for a taste of her nectar. Using the broad of my tongue I licked mightily, beginning at her asshole and moving up. Her labia were soon red and swollen with desire. I ventured a lick inside and was amazed at how delicious she was.

Her secretions were sweet and musky. I could get addicted to licking this pussy, for sure. I used my tongue as a spoon, scooping out her seemingly endless supply. I searched for and found her hard clit. It was big by most standards, almost a half inch across and an inch long. I sucked on it as I would a tiny cock. Marcie responded immediately, gripping my head with her surprisingly strong fingers. She was panting and short of breath when it hit—hard like a hurricane or a tornado.

I held her thighs as she came down, kissing her sweet pussy over and over again. I could have stayed there all afternoon, but she pulled me up into her embrace. "That Amanda is a fool, but I'm glad she is.

Otherwise we'd never have gotten together, would we?" "Probably not, unfortunately; you have no idea how many times I was tempted, but the very same dedication I had for her I'll gladly have for you. You know…I probably know you even better than her. How long have we been together? Five years? You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." "Me, too," she replied before kissing me again.

We lay there for some time before she spoke, "Well…now I think I'm being insulted. Don't you want to fuck me? You did a wonderful job on me, but I think I owe you one, besides I can't wait to feel that monster inside me." She rolled onto her back, spread her legs and invited me to join her.

I moved to her, rubbing my cock's head into her slit several times to be sure we were both lubricated. I pushed slowly—I wanted to make love with her, not hurt her. Gradually I made my way inside her…she was so very tight around me like a round powerful velvet vise.

I pulled out a bit and pushed in further. It took several minutes, but I was seated within her. One look at her angelic face said it all—she was in total rapture. We began a rhythm, slow at first as we got to know each other—our likes, loves, and desires. We met each other, creating a loud slurping noise as we created a vacuum with every thrust. I leaned down and we kissed. As we did we exploded together—she shook and shuddered as I blew load after load of slick white semen into her.

We fell asleep almost immediately, my shrinking cock still buried within her womanhood. We woke to the ringing of my phone. It was the alarm I had set to tell me when the camera activated itself.

My lovely wife and her lover were awake. I turned on the laptop and we were able to see the lovers as they discovered their predicament. I picked up my phone and dialed.

We watched as Amanda answered. "Well, well…I see you're enjoying your presents. I hope you appreciate them. They were custom made especially for you. I hope you notice how well they fit and how sturdy they are—titanium--impossible to cut or break. And to think Amanda, you were so worried about me being tempted.

Tsk…tsk. Have you checked the mirror? See Tom's face? Yours is even worse, but don't worry. I'm told it will wear off in six to eight weeks." "Jack…you have to get me out of this. It hurts." "Yeah, almost as much as that first day when I saw you with my asshole boss; I saw you kiss him right out in front of our house, and, of course, there's this." I pushed a key on the laptop and the TV turned on, the DVD playing for them to see.

"Oh, yeah, tell Tom I sent a copy of this to Nancy. I'm sure she'll be as pleased as I was to learn about you two." "Anderson!" It was Tom voicing his fury. "If you don't get me out of this right now you're fired and where the hell do you get off writing all over me? I'll call the cops and have you arrested." "Oh, did I forget to tell you, Tom? I quit. My letter of resignation is sitting on your desk. I'm already working for Bill Wells and I'm sure that all my personal clients will go with me.

As for your keys, well…I regret to tell you I threw them into the river this morning. Maybe there will be some major breakthrough that will dissolve titanium. A golf driver is less than a millimeter thick. Your belt is more than three times that and all those hinges are welded so they're not coming apart in your lifetime. So far as calling the cops…be my guest. Then everyone will know all about you.

You could probably cover everything with some tape or bandages, but Nancy will know and I'm sure she'll talk. I wouldn't blame her. "Now, Amanda I do have your keys and I will gladly give them to you, but the price will be high. You'll be served with divorce papers tomorrow. The deal is I will get everything except $200,000 and the keys. Considering all the evidence I don't think that's too demanding, do you? Sorry, but I have to go. I need to call Smythe and tell him I no longer work for Tom.

Bye." I ended the call and looked at Marcie. "Do you have anything you want to get from the office? All I have is some pictures of Amanda and me, and a couple of ties. Why don't you get your personal stuff and come to Cape Town with me?" "Really? You mean it?" "Of course, I mean it. You can be a big help to me…and then there's work, too." She laughed. "You know what? I don't think there's anything I want from the office, other than my paycheck, but today's Friday—payday—and we all have direct deposit.

I think I'll go home and pack. I'll be back in an hour or so." She jumped up from the chair, kissed me, dressed and left. I called Jonathan Smythe at home because of the time difference. "Hi, Jonathan…Jack Anderson here; I need to tell you I've left Petersen." "Kind of sudden, isn't it? I just spoke to Thomas yesterday and he led me to believe you were coming." "Yeah, very sudden, but that's what happens when you catch the boss fucking your wife.

I can still come, but I'll be working for William Wells." "Then why are we even talking? Get on the plane. I need you." "I should be able to make it tomorrow or Sunday, but I need to make arrangements for my secretary, too. She'll be joining me." "I look forward to meeting her.

Let me know when you get in." I was able to get two first class tickets on Air France tomorrow evening to DeGaulle in Paris, connecting to Cape Town. I also phoned all my other clients. The calls were brief and to the point—I had quit and gone to a competitor.

All agreed to shift their business, especially when they heard what a scumbag Tom was. I used my laptop to send a fax to Bill Wells, telling him to send memoranda of agreement to each of the CEO's with the rates I had used in my prior job—funny how quickly I was able to put that behind me. I also suggested he place a personal call introducing himself to them. Everything was done by the time Marcie had returned. We were just about to go out for dinner when my phone rang.

I checked the Caller ID. "Hi, Nancy… thought I might be hearing from you." "I guess it was you, after all…the DVD, I mean. I had a feeling something was going on, but I never suspected it was Amanda." "Yeah, I found out about it by accident when I came home early from a trip to Rome.

I need to tell you something. I was able to drug them this morning and I put both of them into chastity belts." I could hear her laughing on the other end. "You may not laugh when I tell you I threw Tom's keys into the river. I suppose I could get duplicates from the company, but without them he's done having sex. I would do it if you asked me. I'm just glad his father isn't here to see this." "Don't worry too much about it, Jack.

I've been thinking about divorce and this just cinches it. We haven't had sex in months and now I know why. Thanks for sending it. This will make perfect evidence and make for a great settlement. What are you going to do?" "Divorce, too. The price will be the keys, but it's going to take several months so I expect she'll be as horny as can be by the time she loses the belt.

Tell you what…I'll email you photos of them from this morning. Take a close look at Tom's face, too…my personal version of the 'Scarlet Letter.'" "Oh, Jack…I have to go. Tom just pulled into the garage. This should be interesting. Bye." CHAPTER 4 Marcie and I had a wonderful flight once we cleared security. She told me it was the first time she'd been to Europe and her first time flying first class. We toasted each other with the complimentary champagne then settled in for the long flight.

We held hands as we slept most of the way, arriving in Paris at 6:30 a.m. All the restaurants were closed, but we were able to find plenty of food and coffee in the first class lounge. Jonathan Smythe had arranged for a limo to deliver us to our hotel where we had a lovely suite with a view of the harbor. Marcie was a big help, handling all the clerical duties—keeping track of my time and any equipment or supplies I used--clearly my weakest area.

She helped in other ways, too.


Normally, I dreaded spending evenings alone in my hotel room, my cock safely locked away and unable to gain any relief from my loneliness, but having Marcie with me changed all that. We went out to dinner and to a few clubs before returning for some mind blowing sex before sleep. We slept naked every night, awaking several times to make delicious love to each other, and waking covered in cum and pussy juice. We showered together every morning, caressing each other's bodies with soap and wash cloths.

I used my tongue on her, kissing her feet and toes as well as her tasty cunt. I often gave her one more orgasm during our shower, holding her tightly so she wouldn't fall. By the end of the trip we knew more about each other than Amanda and I did after six years of marriage. Of course, Amanda had been deceitful. Maybe she'd find something with Tom, but probably not—who wants a relationship with someone you know is a liar and a cheat?

It was one of my most successful trips and I told her that. I think part of it was her presence, but also that I wasn't working for and making money for a total jerk like Tom Petersen. With her help I was able to finish the complicated job in three quarters of the time allotted, saving money for the client and assuring Jonathan's unending loyalty.

He invited us to his home on our last night in South Africa. "I was sorry to learn of your problems, Jack." He had just served us a round of drinks and we were seated in his study. His wife Edna came in with a platter of fresh boiled shrimp and a tangy cocktail sauce. "However," he continued, "I see it hasn't affected your work and I think I understand why. You are a beautiful woman, Marcie." "I know what you're thinking, Jonathan.

Marcie and I were never involved personally until this mess hit the fan, not that I wasn't tempted. You're right, she is beautiful and she's a beautiful person, too. I hope we'll be together forever." Marcie had a gleam in her eye and a smile on her face as she reached over to take my hand. "It's so nice to see young people like you in love," added Edna. "Yes…it's obvious…so obvious, you two were made for each other.

You complement each other so well. I think this will end very well for both of you. So many businesses have policies against employees fraternizing. I suppose they have to for legal reasons, but I have always thought that short-sighted. It's a great way to learn about people—their work ethic, their morality, their integrity, how they handle stress.

Well, I hope I haven't embarrassed you with my forthright statements." "No, Mr. Smythe, I'm not embarrassed, but I am a bit surprised I'm so obvious.

I have loved Jack for a long time. I can't believe I finally have him. I love him and trust him with all my heart, something I know Amanda never did. I share Jack's opinion of Mr. Petersen, too. I always thought of him as a smarmy bastard with no morality. Now it's been proved." I took Marcie's hand and kissed it although I was troubled by one thing she had said.

Jonathan's chef made a wonderful prime rib roast which was cooked just the way I love it—medium rare with horseradish and Yorkshire pudding.

"You'd probably call this a popover, but in England it's called Yorkshire pudding. Pull it apart and put some butter on it," I told Marcie. "Yes," Edna continued, "Britain isn't known for much in the culinary department, but this is one of our crowning achievements. Jack, please feel free to pick up that bone and chew off the meat from it. It's not very ladylike, but it's my favorite.

I love the tender meat on the bone." I took her advice and Marcie laughed when she saw my face covered with juice and tiny shards of red meat.

She leaned over to gently wipe my face with her napkin. Then she stole a bite for herself and laughed again.

We had a wonderful meal, but too soon it was time to leave. Marcie and I were seated in the limo as I thought about how to broach the subject with her. She must have been reading my mind. "I don't want us to have any secrets, Jack. I know Amanda didn't trust you. Why, I'll never know. I know what she made you wear, or at least tried to. I thought it was kind of strange when you went to the men's room every morning with your briefcase and then I found the device when you called from the conference room to ask for some papers.

They were in your briefcase--remember?" I did.I remembered the whole thing now. "I'd never ever think of making you debase yourself like that.

I know you too well to think you'd ever cheat on me. I knew what I was saying and I knew you'd recognize it, too. I love you, Jack. I know it's awfully early in our relationship, but we've known each other so long and worked together so well. You've been a wonderful boss, Jack, but you're an even better lover." I grinned sheepishly, "I think you just bring out the best in me. I think you already know that I feel the same way.

But, I'll never leave you alone; you're coming with me. This trip was just the beginning." "I'd love that Jack, not only the chance to be with you, but this trip has been like a vacation. I never thought I'd be able to go to Africa…or any place else, for that matter, but, what about when we have a family?

I'd like to be a stay home mom. I know what I missed when my mother had to work." I sat back in the comfortable seat, a satisfied smile on my face. Leaning over I kissed Marcie softly, my tongue just reaching out to her lips. There would be plenty of passion later when we were alone.

Breaking the kiss I leaned back and whispered, "Is that going to be anytime soon?" "Well, not for a few years yet. I'm only 25 so we've plenty of time and there are so many places I want to see with you…besides we're not even married yet." "I'd ask you in a heartbeat, but I'm still married to that bitch. It wouldn't feel right to ask you when I'm not free." "I understand and I agree with you.

But here's a big question…what are we going to do when we get home? Where are we going to live? Do you want to live with me? Would it affect your divorce?" "Wow, you don't mince words, do you? I can't see how it would impact the divorce, but then I'm not a lawyer. I think we should live apart for now, but once it's done I want you with me. I'll probably have a few travel jobs between now and then so &hellip." "Yeah…so…we're back at the hotel.


I can't wait to get you back to the room." The driver held the door for us and I tried to tip him, but he refused, "All taken care of, sir, but thank you." He drove away as Marcie and I entered the hotel. We went straight to our suite on the eighth floor. The door had barely closed when Marcie was in my arms. My jacket, tie, and shirt found their way to the chair.

I stood stock still as Marcie took control.

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She pushed my naked body onto the bed. I lay there while she did the most amazing striptease. After looking at her for five minutes I was thinking about installing a pole in our bedroom.

Once she was naked she joined me in the bed. "I can see how much you enjoyed that," she announced, taking a quick glance at my erection. My cock was reddish purple, its arteries pulsing madly.

I couldn't remember ever being harder, but then I had never been as in love as I was with Marcie. Even Amanda in our best times was never like this.

Marcie had a sensuality that was unparalleled in my experience. She wrapped her lithe body around mine as we kissed and touched each other. I loved the sensation of her soft smooth skin against mine.

Her breasts weren't huge, but they fit her body so well. Her ass was incredible, her legs long and slender. She wrapped one of those legs over my hip and rolled me onto my back. She was on my cock in a second; her eyes were closed as she slid down, spearing herself in the process. Slowly she rose until only my cock head remained within her. She hovered there for a few seconds before sliding back down again.

Marcie repeated that pattern for several minutes; it was driving me crazy with lust. I wanted—I needed—to fuck her hard. She opened her eyes and grinned. She knew just how badly she'd been teasing me. Marcie leaned down for a kiss, driving her tongue deep into my mouth before moving her mouth to my ear. "I can be such a tease, can't I? Don't worry, I'm going to take care of you now. I love you, Jack." She leaned back and began to rock. She moved so slowly at first, but as her pace built, so was my need increased.

I rose up to meet her as her pubis ground into me over and over—faster and faster. We stayed at it for more than fifteen minutes and at the end of that time I couldn't help myself. My cock seemed to explode as I came and came and came. I couldn't recall ever cumming so long or so hard. I was completely sated; luckily Marcie had cum along with me. I was so out of it that I didn't even realize that we fell asleep in a pool of our own sweat. We slept soundly all night, awakening fresh with the wakeup call at seven.

CHAPTER 5 The trip back was uneventful. I called Bill Wells to tell him about the job and how much money he had made. I also told him I would need a few days to find a place to live and some furniture. I only needed a one-bedroom apartment so that wasn't difficult. I found a good one in an attractive park-like setting. The building was new, less than a year old, air conditioned, and, most importantly clean.

Furniture would take some time. I waited until Marcie had returned from work. I hoped most of this would someday be hers, too so I valued her input. I met her at her apartment and took her shopping for a good quality bedroom set with a queen bed and a large flat screen TV. I also bought a desk for my computer and a small bridge table and chairs.

The rest could wait. I had gone to the bank earlier in the day and took half of the money in my savings account and used it to start a new checking account. Fortunately, the overwhelming bulk of my funds were in investment accounts in my name only. I contacted my credit card companies and cancelled Amanda's cards; they were attached to my account so now they were gone. My attorney had already published newspaper ads stating that I would no longer be responsible for debts incurred by others—read "Amanda," my soon-to-be ex.

Marcie went to work with Wells before me to help get my office ready. It was important to hit the ground running. I made too much money, in excess of $250,000 annually, to waste time setting up the office.

We met every evening for dinner, shopping, and sex. I noticed several times that we were photographed, obviously someone working for Amanda and her attorney, but I wasn't worried. I took only three days before going to work, but I would have taken a lot longer were it not for Marcie. There were so many things I never even thought about—sheets, pillows, dishes, glasses, and silverware, cleaning supplies, and lots more.

I walked into William Wells & Company on Thursday morning with Marcie who introduced me to some of the people she had already met. I was greeted like visiting royalty. I had to correct everybody—they all called me "Mr. Anderson" when my name is "Jack." "Mr. Anderson…I mean Jack," spoke the receptionist, a woman I recalled was named Maria, "Mr. Wells asked if you would stop in to see him for a minute once you're settled in." I thanked her and assured her I would as I followed Marcie to my office.

It was surprisingly roomy and airy with windows on two sides of the corner room. The desk, bookcases, drapes, carpet, and computer desk were all new. I had a small round conference table with four upholstered chairs. I had my own lavatory and a closet for storage and my coat and jacket. My computer was top-of-the-line.

I could not have asked for more. I asked Marcie, "Whose office was this?" "Jack, you're not going to believe this…it was Mr. Wells' office until the day you called him. Then he moved upstairs with all his furniture, books, and stuff. His new office is being built.he thinks it'll be done in a few weeks. Do you like the furniture? I picked it out for you based on what you had in…well, you know. I have to tell you…I really like Mr.

Wells. He seems very nice, but you can also tell that he's extremely driven. He wants to be the best and he thinks you're going to help him get there." I had to admit I was impressed. Not only was I in the boss's old office, but everything in here was top notch and brand new. Marcie showed me the phone system and how it worked…how I could contact anyone in the organization and get an outside line.

I did a lot of billable consultation work over the phone, accessing in-house networks via modem. She gave me a portable Dictaphone—digital, of course. I usually used one for dictation. I found it a big time saver. After about a half hour I asked her to call upstairs and see if Mr.

Wells was available. I also asked her to contact all my clients and give them my new phone number. She laughed, "That was number one on my agenda…three days ago. I also made new business cards for you. They should be delivered tomorrow." I kissed her and went to find the stairs to the second floor.

He welcomed me and we chatted about his new contracts. I assured him they would stay with him because they would stay with me.

He mentioned that he had spoken to Jonathan Smythe who told him how pleased he was with my recent work. He asked how I worked. "I charge $250 an hour for phone consultation work, but I never charge for the initial phone call. That's how I decide what has to be done and how to do it. I charge for any patches I have to write at the same rate, and, of course, the installation and testing. Most of the time I can solve the client's problem in four hours or less.

I charge $350 an hour plus travel, hotel, and meals to go on site. In spite of those exorbitant rates there are clients like Jonathan who insist I come to them. I always fly first class, but I allow the client to select the hotel. I'd be happy in a Best Western or Holiday Inn, but you'd be amazed at the places they select.

Jonathan just put us up in one of Cape Town's best hotels—the Victoria and Alfred, and not just a room, but a suite with a magnificent view of the harbor." I didn't realize it, but we talked the entire morning away—what a difference from Tom Petersen who would only blurt out incomplete and incoherent sentences before running away.

I promised him I would work through lunch to catch up, but he said, "Absolutely not…everyone needs time off to recharge and you need to eat something. Take that cute secretary of yours out to lunch." "Yeah, I'm already taking her out every night for dinner.

I should tell you that we're involved and after my divorce I'll ask her to marry me. She's a wonderful secretary, but a much better person." I did follow his advice; Bill called me shortly after my return to tell me I was needed again. I told him I could go, but first I had to speak to my attorney. "Amanda's raising a real stink about you and your secretary," he explained, "She's claiming you were sexually involved even before you split." "That's hilarious.

I'll send you a few photos of why along with some documentary proof that it was all her doing. I'll also send you a DVD which will show exactly why I want this divorce. There will be an explanatory page, too. I have to go to Hamburg tomorrow night so you'll have it before then." I went on to explain about the two chastity devices and how she forced me to wear them. The worst that could happen is that I'd have to share part of my wealth with Amanda, but then I'd dump the keys to her chastity belt in the river, or, even better—oh, I just had a fantastic idea!

I wondered how she'd feel if I just gave them to her—after I had crushed them under one of Mike Andrews' presses. I prepared the documents for my attorney and sent them FedEx to his office. I kept the chastity devices, master DVD, and other critical documents along with Amanda's two keys in the safe in my office.

I had changed the combination to one known only to me. The trip to Hamburg was as productive as the one to Cape Town. I finished the job in record time thanks to Marcie's presence. She was like an extra set of arms and legs, both at work and after when I really appreciated those legs.

We ate some fantastic German food and lots of strudel. We took an extra day in Amsterdam afterwards with Bill's blessing—he almost insisted on it—where we strolled throughout the city, even taking a canal tour.

It was one of the best days of my life—that night was even better. We showered together as usual, but tonight Marcie made love to me in the cascading water.

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I'd heard of steamy showers before, but this was something else entirely. I tried to reach for the soap to wash her, but she slid her body in the way. Her arms were around my neck in a second. She clenched her fingers, backed against the wall and raised her long limber legs over my shoulders.

Once in this position I slipped my cock into her with ease. Her tight pussy was just oozing juice as it gripped my cock. I leaned down to kiss her. Our lips met under a torrent of hot water, but I barely even noticed. Marcie was my world at that instant of time; I blocked out everything and everyone else as I drove into her. "Give it to me, Jack…c'mon and fuck me…harder…harder." I was pounding her poor pussy when she continued, "C'mon, Jack --show me how much you love me.

I need this…badly, so very badly." I never thought I could fuck as hard as I fucked in that shower. Eventually—much too soon so far as I was concerned—I came and when I did I almost dropped my love. She moved her legs to the floor and washed me. She dried my exhausted body and laid me into the bed. "I've never seen you work as hard as you did these last few days. Now be a good boy and sleep. We can have more fun in the morning." She was right. I had worked ten and twelve hour days, but that was the norm for these trips; I wasn't there to waste time, not at what I was charging.

The difference was, I think, the self-imposed pressure of the impending divorce. It was hard to explain. I didn't think I was worried about the outcome, but I was treading on unfamiliar ground. Marcie made love to me again in the morning and again in the shower. I was a relaxed and happy man when we dressed for our return to the States. My attorney texted me while we were in the first class lounge to tell me that a meeting was scheduled with Amanda and her attorney, a woman I affectionately named "The Bitch" before the divorce was done.

Next: I meet the witch of Salem.