by Lola Swain
Zoe fell hard for Mitchell and soon she was falling to her knees whenever Mitchell Rowlett snapped his fingers. And snap them often he did. That he didn’t have to work very hard to get Zoe out of her sexy silk panties was a bit of a turn-off.
The thrill of the hunt was part of his kink.
Nevertheless, he forged ahead and soon Zoe and Mitchell were engaged in a whirlwind, full-blown affair.
Zoe spent her entire tragic time with Mitchell waiting.
She waited for him to call, waited for him to text, waited for him to finish business meetings, come back from trips with his wife, end dinners with his family. Zoe turned down all invitations from friends and family for fear of not being available for Mitchell. Her most important decision of her day centered around planning what she wore to work in order to entice Mitchell.
Weekends were Zoe’s most depressing time as they were reserved for Mitchell’s family. After he finished fucking her on his desk or in the back of his chauffeured car on a Friday evening, Zoe did not hear from Mitchell until she saw him at work on Monday morning. Until then, she would lay on her bed downhearted and fantasize until she saw Mitchell next.
“I don’t know why you don’t dump him,” Vicky said as she watched Zoe staring out her window for the millionth time. “He’s just using you!”
“I can’t dump him,” Zoe said as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “I love him.”
“Babe,” Vicky said, “you’re not cut out for married men.”
But Zoe wanted to prove everyone wrong. She knew how Mitchell really felt about her.
He told her that he was happiest when she was in his arms. She repeated that in her head like a mantra…he was happiest when he was in her arms. And when she remembered his words, the facts of life with Mitchell became fiction and the fiction became fact.
Such as, the fact that he only contacted her when he wanted to cum, did not imply what a healthy person would make of it. No, Zoe convinced herself that Mitchell contacted her at those times because he was happiest when he was in her arms and he missed her. And when he disappointed her time and time again, it did not mean that he was only using her to throw her away and that he wasn’t truly interested in her. No, it meant that it hurt him too much to leave her because he was that happy with her and he was trying to minimize his pain.
The fact he panted that he was happiest when he was in her arms into the back of Zoe’s head when he had her bent over his desk after a particularly vigorous, but cold fuck, did not discount the significance and meaning of those words in her mind. Zoe even managed to spin the fact that she had never even lay in Mitchell’s arms because they had never been together in a bed or even ever fucked when both of them were horizontal better than the craftiest spider in the world. Yes, there was nothing that could convince Zoe that Mitchell did not love her. Which is why, once again, her best friend Vicky intervened.
Vicky especially loved Zoe’s relationship with Mitchell because it was the most painful relationship of Zoe’s life. And by now I am sure you have guessed that Vicky was never happier when Zoe was in pain.
When Zoe introduced Vicky to her boss and secret lover, Vicky pouted inside when she saw the devilishly handsome Mitchell Rowlett. His salt and pepper hair was styled to perfection and his dark Armani suit was obviously custom. Zoe told Vicky that under no circumstances was she to let on that she knew Zoe and Mitchell were lovers. Mitchell demanded discretion and Vicky was the only person who Zoe told of the affair. This made Vicky very happy.
“God, Zoe,” Vicky said before she was introduced to Mitchell, “what’s the big fucking deal? You and I are best friends.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Zoe said, “Mitchell doesn’t want a soul to know. It would complicate things terribly.”
“Complicate what? You are not the married one,” Vicky said.
“Just don’t say anything, okay? Mitchell is a…private person.”
“No, Mitchell is a jerk! Come on, Zoe.”
“Vicky, please? He loves me. He loves me and he’s going to leave her.”
“Sure he is.”
“He really is,” Zoe said and wrung her hands.
Vicky hated her. She was such a whimpering pussy.
Of course when Vicky met Mitchell Rowlett she kept her mouth shut when Zoe introduced them. Until Zoe was called out of Mitchell’s office to take a phone call.
Vicky sat down in the leather club chair in front of Mitchell’s large mahogany desk. She stared at the smooth wood and pictured Mitchell bending Zoe over the desk that looked every bit as powerful as Mitchell himself and smiled at him when he sat on top of the desk in front of her.
“You know, you are very lucky to have Zoe as a friend,” Mitchell said and winked.
“Oh?” Vicky said and stretched her arms over her head. “And why is that?”
“Well, she’s a very special girl. A very warm, giving person.”
“Yes,” Vicky said, “and beautiful.”
“Quite,” Mitchell said and looked out the window of his office where he could see Zoe on the telephone. “And clever.”
“Quite,” Vicky said and seethed as she turned to spot who Mitchell was gazing at with such longing. “You should take a picture.”
“What?” Mitchell said and looked back at his lover’s friend.
“Or at least wipe the drool from your chin,” Vicky said.
Mitchell gave Vicky a long glance…pretty face, luscious tits and he was sure, from the way she clocked his cock as he spread his legs on his desk, a more than willing pussy. He licked his lips as he stared into Vicky’s bright blue eyes.
“You know,” Mitchell said as he glanced out his window and stared at Zoe, “Zoe didn’t tell me she has such a pretty roommate.”
“Really?” Vicky said and arched her back slightly so her tits popped out. “Well, she told me lots about you, Mitchell.”
Mitchell returned Vicky’s stare. The little tease knew. He shifted on his desk. Vicky bit her bottom lip and winked at Mitchell.
“Huh,” he said. “Well, as they say, don’t believe everything you read in the papers.”
“I’m pretty sure Zoe didn’t get the information she gave me about you from the papers, Mitchell.”
Vicky reached out and dug her long fingernails into Mitchell’s thigh. He jumped slightly and looked out his office window.
“She said you are her best friend,” Mitchell said and shook his head.
“I am her best friend,” Vicky said.
Vicky stood from her chair, brushed past Mitchell and walked toward his office door. She placed her hand on the doorknob and turned toward him.
“Seems you’re implying that I’m the type of girl who would fuck her best friend’s man…fuck…whatever you are.”
Mitchell shook his head and looked at the floor.
“It’s okay. I am. See you around, Mitchell.”
“When?” He said and looked up.
But Vicky left.
Shortly after Mitchell and Vicky’s encounter at his office, Zoe felt the dreaded pulling away again.
She stared out the window for hours trying to figure out what the issue was. She wondered if Mitchell thought she let herself go so she tried extra hard to look her best. When he even seemed less interested in her, she wondered if his wife started being more forward toward him so Zoe threw herself at Mitchell, only to be rejected every time. The one thing she never did was come out and ask Mitchell if he no longer wanted her. She was too afraid of his answer. Zoe became obsessed with changing Mitchell’s mind even though she did not know what was on his mind. She only had the feeling.
Of course, had she asked, Mitchell may have told her that he was too disappointed that she told her friend of their affair. He may have even told her that he no longer trusted her and vowed that he would never fuck her again. She was now a liability.
What Mitchell Rowlett certainly would not tell Zoe was the truth. And the truth was, he moved on. To her best friend Vicky Westwood.
&
nbsp; Vicky called Mitchell at the office a few days after she met him. She wanted to speak to him over the concern she felt about Zoe’s actions lately. She was very depressed, Vicky said, more so than usual. Mitchell was very uncomfortable with the conversation. However, when Vicky said that she’d meet him in the bar of the Copley Hotel, he knew that Vicky’s distress was a ruse and he was more than willing to meet Zoe’s concerned friend.
Water does seek its own level and the morally bankrupt always find a way to come together like magnets.
“Mitchell,” Vicky said at the bar as she swirled her fingertip around the short, stubby rocks glass that held her scotch, “I am concerned that Zoe is unable to handle this affair. She’s a tender heart. A heart that is not strong enough to weather your storm.”
“Oh?” Mitchell said unable to tear his eyes away from the swell of Vicky’s tits, toppling over her low-cut white jersey dress. “I’ve not noticed a change in her.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Vicky said as she rested her hand on his arm, “your cock is still getting sucked. Isn’t that right?”
Mitchell looked around the bar and made sure no one heard his less than soft-spoken companion.
“Vicky—”
“Look, let’s cut the shit, shall we? The truth is Zoe is in love with you. She—”
“Wait a minute. Zoe knows—”
“Zoe knows shit. And don’t interrupt me,” Vicky said and swiveled her stool toward him and pressed her knee into the side of his thigh. “Zoe is convinced you will leave your wife for her. Zoe is convinced that you will marry her.”
“Marry her? I never even suggested that to be a possibility,” Mitchell said and ran his fingers through his hair. “Where would she get that idea? Absolutely not.”
“No, of course not. You get that. Hell, I get that. Zoe, however, does not get that. You know, she even writes her name with yours. Over and over again. She sits for hours and writes your names. Even dots the I’s with hearts. It’s very sad.”
“Our names…dots the I…why does she do that?”
“Practice for the wedding invitations, silly.” Vicky said and flashed Mitchell a stunning smile. “Yes…Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell Rowlett, Zoe and Mitchell Rowlett. That kind of thing. For hours.”
Mitchell rubbed the five o’clock shadow on his chin and shook his head.
“I had no idea. She acts as cool as a cucumber around me.”
“Acts being the operative word, Mitch. Nope, she’s got it bad for you.”
Mitchell looked at Vicky and smiled. She licked her lips and slammed her scotch back.
“You called me Mitch,” he said. “I like that.”
“Do you?” Vicky said and reached under the bar and dragged her hand up his thigh toward his stiffening cock. “I know a bunch of things that you like.”
“Such as?”
“Oh, such as, you like to fuck Zoe most from behind. That when you slam your big, hard cock into her pussy, she feels like she will split in half, and that you most want to fuck her up the ass, but she’s terrified of the pain and refuses you. Must be hard for a big, powerful man like you to be refused by such a silly little girl, huh?”
Mitchell spread his legs wider to give Vicky access to his hard cock. Her hand travelled up his leg and clamped down on his bulge. Mitchell looked down in his lap and smiled. Vicky pulsed her fingers against his hard cock and he took a deep breath and stared at her.
“But you are not a silly little girl, are you, Vicky?”
“Mitch, I don’t do anything little or silly.”
“Go big or go home, hmm?”
“Very big,” Vicky said and looked down at Mitchell’s lap.
“That’s right,” Mitchell said and pushed his hips toward the edge of his chair and leaned toward Vicky. “I would love to show you how very big this is.”
“I think I have an idea,” Vicky said and squeezed Mitchell’s cock. “But, before that, there are some things I’d like to discuss.”
“I much prefer action to discussion,” Mitchell said into Vicky’s ear.
“We’ll get to that, bad boy. First, I want to make sure that Zoe never finds out about this or any other subsequent encounter.”
Mitchell looked at Vicky and groaned as she grabbed Mitchell’s cock tighter and pumped her hand up and down.
“Fuck,” he said, “you need to ease off. I’m going to cum in my pants.”
“I will continue to jack that big cock off under this bar until you tell me what I need to hear.”
“Yes…of course,” Mitchell said and moaned. “She will never know.”
“And you will not ever fuck her again,” Vicky said and jacked Mitchell’s cock faster.
“Wait…what?”
“Just what I said, Mitch. I don’t go second to anyone. If you want this pretty pussy, your cock doesn’t so much as point in Zoe’s direction.
Vicky removed her hand from Mitchell’s cock and turned toward him. She dragged the hem of her dress up her plump, firm thighs and spread her legs wide. Mitchell licked his lips as he stared at Vicky’s pussy…shaved bald and glistening with her wetness.
“You’re so wet,” Mitchell said as he stared at Vicky. “I need to suck on that juicy, swollen pussy.”
“Yes, you do. And you will. After you say it.”
Mitchell stared at Vicky’s wet pussy as if it was a mirage and sighed. Saying what she wanted him to say wasn’t really that much of a sacrifice. Mitchell Rowlett spent his life saying things that he didn’t mean. He had to taste Vicky. And that desire, superseded everything, as a person with lack of impulse control can attest to.
“Spread your legs wider,” Mitchell said as he grabbed his cock. “I want to see the pink.”
Vicky spread her legs wide and hitched her feet behind the foot rests on the stool. She leaned back in her chair and sucked on her thumb as she stared Mitchell in his eyes. Mitchell stared at her pussy, now soaking wet, and smiled. He looked into Vicky’s shiny eyes and shook his head.
“You have no fear, do you?” he said as he glanced around the bar to see if any of the patrons noticed their antics.
“None,” Vicky said.
“I will never fuck her again,” Mitchell said and summoned the bartender.
Mitchell stood and threw fifty dollars on the bar and held his hand out to Vicky. She smiled and slid out of her chair.
“Now, about that pussy,” he said as he grabbed Vicky by her wrist.
Vicky giggled as Mitchell dragged her out of the bar and into the lobby toward the front door.
“Wait,” she said and yanked her hand from Mitchell’s tight grasp, “where are we going?”
“My car,” he said. “My driver is waiting.”
Vicky shook her head as she fished through her purse. She pulled a room key out of her bag and held it up to Mitchell’s face.
“My room,” Vicky said and grabbed Mitchell’s wrist and dragged him toward the elevator. “My pussy is waiting.”
Soon Vicky and Mitchell were meeting in every hotel, limousine and alley in Boston. The rich executive couldn’t get enough of her.
Instinctively Mitchell knew that he was hurting Zoe, but he would not allow himself to explore the niggling guilt he felt when he looked out his office window and locked eyes with his beautiful former paramour. The truth that Mitchell would not face was that Zoe Nicolas was far too good for him.
However, Mitchell was a master at twisting and molding the truth into something that was far more palatable.
So he convinced himself that breaking away from Zoe was the best thing for her. That eventually, she’d meet another man and he would place the memory of her on the mantle in his brain next to all the other trophies he collected over the years. But she wasn’t getting the hint and like a magnet, she clung more as he tried to pry himself away.
After a particularly raucous fuck in the back of his Town Car, Mitchell told Vicky that he had to do something about Zoe. That she was becoming careless at work and was even seen by the
receptionist sobbing at her desk.
“She needs to be fired,” Vicky said as she hooked her bra.
“I can’t fire her,” Mitchell said. “Can you imagine the potential lawsuit?”
“You’re kidding right? Zoe couldn’t fight her way through a sport suit, never mind a lawsuit! Fire her, Mitchell.”
“No, I will not take that chance,” Mitchell said and stared at Vicky. “Why do you have it out for her? I mean, you claim she’s your best friend. Isn’t it bad enough you and I are fucking? Why do you want her entirely ruined?”
Vicky slipped her dress over her head and looked out the window of the car.
“Harry Masters,” she said and chewed on her fingernail.
“Hairy what?” Mitchell said as he pulled his pants up over his legs.
“No,” Vicky said and chuckled, “Harry Masters. He was my boyfriend. He was my sixth grade boyfriend and Zoe stole him from me.”
“Sixth grade? You’ve had a vendetta against this girl for what, twelve years, because she stole some prepubescent boy from you? You’re not serious.”
“Thirteen,” Vicky said and shook her head. “It’s been thirteen years and did I stutter?”
Mitchell stared at Vicky waiting for the punch line. He ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head when he realized she was quite serious.
“Wow, thirteen years? So what you’re saying is that you hold a grudge?”
Vicky didn’t find Mitchell’s attempt to make light of her admission amusing.
“I don’t appreciate you making fun. It’s serious, Mitchell.”
“Yes, seriously fucked up, Vicky. I mean, do you hear yourself? How you even remember this boy is beyond me. You must have had many boys since Harry fucking Masters walked off into the sunset with Zoe. You want to destroy this girl’s life because of a sixth grade crush?”