by Anya Aurelie
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To keep reading Stretched Wide By My Husband’s Clients, click here (parts 2 and 3 available February 2015).
Stretched Wide By My Husband’s Clients, #2
Brandon was on top of me before I could even catch my breath, his cock sticking out through the opening in the front of his pants just like Will’s had been only moments before.
“I can’t believe you let that man fuck you,” he growled at me, and thrust into my dripping hole all at once. His cock was so hard. He grabbed my breasts and squeezed as he used my pussy.
My husband drilled into me over an over, jackhammering me in my sore, full cunt as his potential client’s cum was displaced and dripped out of me around him, falling onto the desk below us. “Did you like his cock?”
“Brandon, I was just trying to do what was best for you!” I protested. I still couldn’t tell whether Brandon was angry or just so turned on by watching me with another man that he could hardly control himself. “You heard him — he wasn’t going to hire you as his lawyer unless I fucked him right here, right now! He didn’t want to wait. He didn’t want to go to a hotel.”
“Did you like his cock?” he repeated. “He had a big one.”
“I loved it,” I admitted as I watched the jealousy and lust swirl together on his face.
“You’re such a little slut, letting a stranger fuck you while your husband is hiding in the closet watching,” he said. There was no denying his raging erection, the force with which he was fucking hard into me, so I told him the truth.
“I did it for you, Brandon, but you’re right — I fucking loved it. I loved having his hard cock down my throat. I loved him spreading me open and thrusting deep into me. I loved him filling my tight cunt up with his cum.”
Brandon’s face contorted as I spoke, and then I felt his cock throbbing as he too began to unleash his cum inside of me. “Do you like that?” I continued. “Do you like knowing that your twenty-year-old wife loves being fucked hard by another man while all you can do is watch?”
He moaned helplessly as his cock throbbed and his balls emptied themselves into me with a force I’d never felt from him before.
“Oh fuck…oh fuck,” he groaned.
Will called Brandon later that afternoon, and told him he was hired.
And that is how Brandon brought in his first new client since becoming partner.
Something changed between me and Brandon after the first time I fucked one of his potential clients. We didn’t talk about it, but it was like the sexual passion between us was reignited by the cock of another man.
For the next two weeks, Brandon fucked me daily, and we attacked each other with a frenzy that we hadn’t had since early on.
I thought that was it — that I’d helped him out once, slept with someone else, and now we were in a better place. I had no idea what was coming.
Then one day, Brandon came home from work and told me, “The firm is holding a party this Saturday. It’s to celebrate what we’ve accomplished this year, but it’s also to try to impress some of our clients and potential new clients.”
I nodded. I remembered Brandon talking about the party in years past. I’d offered to go with him, but he’d always insisted that it would be all work talk and he’d be so busy schmoozing with the clients that he wouldn’t have any time for me.
This time, though, he said, “I’d love if you could come with me.”
I was surprised, but told him I’d be happy to go along.
“Good,” he said, slapping his knee and standing up with a smile. “I think you’ll have a fantastic time.”
I don’t know about that, I thought, remembering what he’d said about the party in the past, but I kept my opinion to myself.
“I invited a few local CEOs to come by. I think you’ll enjoy meeting them. There’s one in particular, a man named Karl, who I really hope will become a client. Be extra nice to him, okay?”
“Sure, honey,” I said.
The night of the party, Brandon helped me choose a dress, deciding on a short, sparkly black one that showed off both my legs and my breasts. I was surprised he didn’t want me to wear something more conservative to a work event, but he knew best.
Besides, I knew I looked great in that dress. Hell, the cleavage that thing gave me practically made me want to fuck myself.
I pulled my hair up into an elegant ponytail and we headed out. This year’s party was at the office, he told me, rather than at a hotel as the last several had been. “People were getting a little too crazy,” he said with a wink, and I knew what he meant.
Inside the office, the huge front reception area had been decorated with flowers and twinkling lights, and waiters were passing around appetizers and drinks.
“This is fancy!” I whispered to Brandon.
“Of course,” he said. “We’re trying to impress.”
“Canape?” asked a waiter, who had appeared beside us. “I have smoked salmon with dill cream, caviar with red onion, and prosciutto-wrapped asparagus.”
The food was beautiful, perfectly portioned and presented on the trays, bright and colorful. I took a smoked salmon and an asparagus bite and glanced around us. Brandon was ignoring the food, already looking around him, and I could tell his brain was in work mode.
“Aha,” he said, pointing to the other side of the room as a five-piece band starting playing an old jazz classic.
I followed my husband across the room, noticing the appreciative glances of the other men we passed. We were about to be caught in conversation with some boring work associate, I could tell, so I grabbed a glass of champagne off a waiter’s tray as we walked by in preparation.
Brandon stopped in front of a distinguished-looking middle-aged man in an impeccably fitted suit. “Karl, I’d like you to meet my wife, Alyssa,” Brandon said, and my jaw almost dropped when I saw him. He was gorgeous. God, I did love older men.
“Alyssa, it’s a pleasure,” Karl said, giving me a nod and holding out his hand.
I suddenly realized I’d made a tactical error in grabbing food and drink at the same time, and cursed myself for being so much younger and more inexperienced than everyone else in the room. I was only twenty — how many fancy parties like this had I been to? Of course, when I’d married Brandon I’d expected to go to a lot more of them, but he kept his work and home lives separate so much of the time.
I quickly transferred the champagne to my left hand along with the napkin full of canapés, blushed, and shook his hand.
Warm. With a firm grip. I felt my heart flutter involuntarily and my nipples get hard. His confidence was obvious even from this brief interaction.
“Nice to meet you,” I said. “Have you tried the salmon? It’s delicious.”
Then I took a deep swig of the champagne to cover my embarrassment.
Karl didn’t seem to mind, if he even noticed. Instead, I felt his eyes look me up and down, taking in the hem of my dress halfway up my thigh, my long, bare legs underneath, cinched waist, and deep cleavage. His eyes lingered a moment on my cleavage.
“Excuse me a moment,” Brandon said, and my attention snapped back to him. He was leaving me? “I have to go say hi to someone who just walked in.”
He made his way back through the crowded room toward the front door, and I was left standing next to Karl, wondering what to say. Why would Brandon leave a conversation with the very person he’d said he most wanted to impress?
And then it hit me: Maybe I was the one Brandon was hoping would impress Karl.
I smiled as charmingly as I could manage. “Are you enjoying the party?” I asked.
“Yes, it’s very nice,” he said, taking a sip of his own champagne.
“I love the way they’ve decorated in here. It looks like a totally different space.” I wished I were better at small-talk. I downed the last of my champagne nervously, then caught Karl staring down into my cleavage again.
“Does it?” he said. “I’ve never been in the office before. In fa
ct, Brandon mentioned that you might be able to show me around.”
“He did?” I asked, surprised. “When did he say that?” It was loud in here with all these people and the band playing, but I was sure I’d heard everything Brandon had said to Karl when we’d walked up.
“He mentioned it when he invited me.”
That was odd, I thought — why would Brandon tell this man that I’d show him around the office, rather than offering to show him around himself? I wondered what else my husband had told this man I’d do for him.
But I just said, “Sure, I can give you a tour right now.” I flagged down a waiter and traded my empty glass of champagne for a full one. Being still too young to drink legally, the booze was going to my head quickly.
I led the way toward the stairs, and Karl followed me. On the second floor, we walked down the long hallway with its beautiful antique rugs, and I pointed out the other partners’ offices. He put a hand on the small of my back when he asked, “And how many partners are there here?”
I swallowed nervously, not sure whether I should move his hand away, but I liked how it felt against my body. “Ten,” I said, feeling my heart race. I took another sip of champagne.
I showed Karl Brandon’s office and the various conference rooms and meeting rooms. At the end of the hall, we got to the biggest conference room, where the whole firm held their weekly meetings.
When the law firm had moved into the old house, they’d knocked down a few of the walls to make the space more suited to their needs, including the wall that had been in this conference room — the room had once been two rooms and was now one huge one. They’d also added a couple of windows out to the hall so that passersby could tell when there was a meeting in progress without disturbing the people inside.
I pulled open the door to the conference room and Karl and I stepped inside. Before I knew what was happening, though, he’d shut the door behind us.
“Wha —” I started, and then Karl pinned me up against the door, standing over me, his face just inches from my own. I felt his hot breath on my cheek.
“Your husband also told me that you might be able to help me out with something else.”
“Karl, what are you doing?” I said, my heart racing. I felt my pussy get wet at his suggestion, but feigned ignorance.
“Every firm I’ve talked to has good attorneys,” he said. “They all have beautiful offices, nice conference rooms, good coffee. But Brandon told me you can offer me something the other firms can’t. He told me that his wife can be very persuasive.”
Then I felt his hand on my thigh, just below the hem of my dress, and a moment later he reached underneath my skirt and pushed his fingers inside my panties. I felt his warm skin against my own, and I didn’t resist.
Karl found my wet hole and pushed two fingers inside of it.
I moaned. The alcohol had really gone to my head, and part of me knew I shouldn’t be doing this, but it felt too good to stop. Part of me wondered whether it had really been Brandon who had told this man to try something with me. What if it had been Will, the client I had slept with two weeks ago, who had mentioned how he’d come to hire Brandon?
I should check with Brandon, I thought. I should make sure this is okay with him.
But instead I found Karl’s finger slipping out of me and felt myself being lifted into his arms and then laid down on my back on the conference room table. I felt giddy and lightheaded, and my pussy throbbed in anticipation.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” Karl murmured, and I let him undress me until I lay there on the table in panties, thigh-high stockings with lace tops, and my bra. He stood back and gazed at me, his eyes drifting up and down my scantily clad body. He remained fully clothed.
“I shouldn’t do this,” I said. “I should check with Brandon.” What if Brandon figured out that Karl and I had gone missing and came to look for me? Would he be furious?
Or had he orchestrated this whole thing? I had no idea which it was.
“Nonsense,” Karl said. “Brandon knows exactly what you’re doing. Now let me see that body.”
But part of me still wondered.
That’s when I noticed that the blinds from the conference room back out into the hall were open. Anyone could walk by and see us in here, and here I was already down to my underwear with this strange man. I supposed I hadn’t noticed the blinds right away through the haze of my champagne high.
It was only two glasses, so it’s not like I was drunk — I knew exactly what I was doing. But some of the details had gotten fuzzy, and my inhibitions were certainly lowered. After all, when else in my life had I ever landed myself in a situation like this, spread out on a conference room table with a man who wasn’t my wife, while a party went on down below us?
Exactly never, that was when.
“Close the blinds,” I said.
Karl smiled. “Don’t you think we should put on a show for anyone lucky enough to walk by?”
“Mmmm,” I murmured. It did sound fun — I think part of me had always enjoyed the idea of having sex in front of other people, though of course I was way too shy and proper to ever try it out. But still — this was hardly the time or place.
“We should close…” I started again, then was distracted by Karl’s mouth hitting my pussy through the panties. His breath was warm, and he licked up and down the thin strip of fabric while tickling me with one finger.
I didn’t care about the blinds anymore, didn’t care about Brandon. All I cared about was getting more of Karl on me and into me. God, he felt so good.
“What should we close?” he teased.
“We should…oh…oh god, keep going.” It was torture, feeling his lips so close to my pussy but not yet touching the bare skin.
“You don’t want me to stop doing this and close the blinds?” he said, with that teasing tone again.
“Don’t stop!” I gasped, and he rewarded me by slipping underneath the fabric of my panties and licking my bare snatch, his rough tongue moving up and down my slit and then pushing inside my hole.
“Yes,” I whispered, pushing myself into his mouth. He stood up and worked my panties off my legs, then lifted me up slightly from the table and unfastened my bra, pulling it off of me. I lay there then in nothing but my thigh-high stockings and high heels, in front of this man twice my age in a business suit, who knelt before me licking my cunt.
I glanced up at the window, and thought I saw movement, but a moment later Karl’s finger was inside of me and I forgot about it again. His lips returned to my pussy, and his tongue drew circles over my clit.
“Fuck yes, yes, Karl, please, keep going,” I begged.
He teased me with his tongue until I felt the pressure built up inside of me, until the lights above us seemed to dim, until there was nothing left except my pussy and his mouth and fingers. I knew I was about to explode — and then he pulled away.
“Noooo,” I moaned. “I was so close.” In that moment, I wanted him to give me an orgasm more than I could remember ever wanting anything before, and the absence of his tongue was excruciating.
He stood up and smiled down at me. “Not yet,” he said. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you come later.”
I was in a feverish haze from being so close to orgasm, and I would’ve done anything at all he asked if it meant getting him back on my pussy — whether his fingers, his tongue, or his cock.
“Now it’s your turn to suck me,” he said. I nodded.