Hey Friends! Hope all is well. Sorry for being a few days late on this one, it ended up being a little bit longer than I anticipated and had lots of typos and grammatical issues I needed to resolve.
This chapter ties a lot of threads together and is sort of the race to the home stretch as we start to get closer to "the end", a day that will be both very sad and very fulfilling for me. But we still have a few more chapters to get through so no reason to think about all that just yet.
As always, your feedback means the world to me, and I look forward to hearing what you thought about the chapter.
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"I hate everything about this," Chris said, his gaze fixed on Ashley as she put on the last swipe of mascara. He couldn't remember if he'd ever seen the yellow sundress before, but the color seemed to accentuate her complexion perfectly. The thin straps revealed her shoulders, where he could still make out the fading bruises and hickeys from a few nights ago, a visual reminder of how out of control things had gotten. The dress's low cut showcased her decision to go braless, a decision that left him breathless. His body betrayed him instantly, hardening at the thought of what was about to happen. That physical response, the one he desperately wished he could control, only intensified his self-loathing. How had they arrived at this point where his wife was deliberately dressing to entice another man, and worse, a man that seemed to be doing everything he could to land Chris in federal custody.
"I know, baby, but he really wants to see me." She placed her hand on top of his giving him a reassuring smile before leaning closer to the phone. She didn't miss the way Chris's eyes fell to her chest as she did. "Besides, I have the perfect plan to leave him hot and bothered. Then I'll come home to you and you'll reap the rewards of all his efforts."
Chris nodded, swallowing hard. He tried to get his breathing under control. This was all part of the script, he tried to remind himself.
"What... what's the plan?" He was glad that he was supposed to be acting anxious, because that was exactly how he felt.
Ashley leaned over kissing her husband gently. She felt his shoulders loosen, heard his deep exhale as she reminded him of her love. She broke the kiss with a smile then leaned further down, her chest resting against the cool surface of the counter. "I'm going to give him three tries to guess what color my panties are." She giggled nervously. "If he guesses right..." she reached for the front of Chris's pants feeling his steel beneath them. This may have been a setup, but despite everything Chris said, he couldn't get enough of it. "then he can fuck me however he wants." She felt his cock flex. "But if he can't, then he has to bring me back home and let my husband take care of my needs." She stroked Chris through his pants. "And I feel soooo needy right now." She needed to sell the performance, not just because she knew how much Chris got off on it, but because if what Chris had told her was true, then she needed Clayton to trust her even more than before.
A smile tore across her face as she watched his eyes close, and wondered if she was having the same effect on Clayton right now.
"And um... what... what color are they?" He let out a frustrated sigh as her fingers released his shaft and went to the bottom of her knee-high dress.
"That's the best part," she whispered seductively into the phone. "I'm not wearing any."
She lifted the front of her dress, revealing her freshly shaved sex. Her folds were slightly parted, just a teasing hint of pink peeking through, glistening in the light. The hood of her clit was just barely visible, peeking out and begging to be touched. Chris wasn't sure if it was from the moisture of the shower or her own arousal. His eyes widened, pupils dilating with a desire that momentarily eclipsed his fear.
He wanted to push her back against the counter, to take her right here on the spot. He didn't care if Clayton, the FBI, or the whole damn world was listening. Instead, he pulled her into a tight hug, his lips finding her ear. "Just... be careful. Please," he whispered, feeling her pull him closer.
When they finally broke the hug Ashley broke into a smile. All part of the act, Chris told himself.
"I'll call you when all the fun starts," she said looking back down at her phone before picking it up and sliding it into her purse. "He should be here any minute."
Twenty minutes later, Ashley was walking out the door, her head tucked into her shoulder so the wind didn't mess up her hair. Clayton waved from the driver's seat of a black Audi A8. He'd insisted on coming to the door to get her, but Ashley pushed back saying Chris would want them to stay there and let him watch. He wasn't as receptive to her being alone with Clayton again after how things went last time. It wasn't a complete lie.
"Wow you look great," Clayton said, as she slid into the leather passenger seat. The coolness of the interior of the car was a welcome surprise, and she slumped into the seat a little to let the AC hit her exposed skin.
Her eyes fluttered open when she felt Clayton's hand on her knee, already creeping up the inside of her dress. "Calm down, Casanova," she said with a smile, catching his wrist. "Let's at least get to your place first."
"What can I say, you look too good to wait." He sucked his lips into his mouth, moistening them as he looked over Ashley like she was a piece of meat.
Her body reacted instantly, a traitorous flush of heat that made her angry at herself. She squirmed in her seat, suddenly regretting her decision to go commando, as she felt her slickness slide down her thigh.
"Well the faster you drive the quicker we get what we want," she managed, trying to sound playful while fighting the urge to reach for him.
"Why wait?" He turned in his seat, lifting his body slightly so he was towering over Ashley. She gave a playful squeal, putting her hands on his chest.
The cockiness in his tone sent a jolt straight through her core. Ashley's hands went to his chest, unsure if she was trying to push him away or pull him closer.
"It's the middle of the day," she giggled. "The neighbors are going to see us." Her last bit of resistance fading.
"So what. You love an audience."
The comment made her gasp, her resistance vanishing the second Clayton's lips touched hers. She smiled against his mouth, then pressed her head against his deepening the kiss and pushing her tongue into his mouth.
They stayed like that for several minutes, making out like a couple of horny teenagers. It was only when Clayton's hand started sliding up her leg again that Ashley broke the kiss with a smirk. "Slow down, playboy," she laughed, pushing his hand away despite the warmth she felt spreading through her body. "I thought we could play a little game first."
"And what game is that?" His lips found her neck causing her to moan her response and thread her fingers through his hair. Each kiss ignited sparks along her skin, leaving her dizzy and breathless.
"You.... oh fuck," her thought was cut short as Clayton's lips traveled down to her chest, his tongue snaking between her cleavage. The shoulder strap of her dress caught on her elbow while Clayton feasted on her chest like a newborn. "You... have to guess what color my panties are in three tries."
His teeth grazed her nipple shooting sparks of electricity through her body. Their well-crafted plan seemed to be falling apart at the seams and she hadn't even made it out of the driveway. "If you win," she said breathless pulling Clayton's head away by his hair. Her chest glistened with his spit, her taut, pink nipples begging for more attention. "Then you can have me however you want." She tried to make her voice sound seductive, but she just sounded desperate. "But if you can't," still holding him by the hair, she pushed his mouth to hers, slipping her tongue into his mouth with the eagerness of a woman dangerously close to letting go of everything she'd worked so hard for. "Then you have to take me back to my husband."
Clayton cocked his eyebrow, watching the newlywed wife as she struggled to catch her breath. A smirk, that cocky smile she hated so much, appeared on his face. "You don't need to worry about going back to him."
"And why is that?" Ashley's stomach was already flipping, her legs spreading unintentionally.
"Because," his smirk grew toothy. "We've already established what you are. Haven't we?" His hand landed on the inside of her leg. Just his touch made her moan, and fight every instinct in her not to push her hips toward the source of her pleasure.
"Y... yes," she whispered.
"And what are you?" His hand slid up her leg, his fingers dancing across her inner thigh.
"A... a slut." Her nipple ached in agony. Her left hand reached for it, pinching it between her fingers as her eyes snapped shut.
"Mmm, good girl," he whispered. He knew he could bury his fingers inside her dripping pussy right now if he wanted, but she needed to be reminded who was in charge. He was the one who made the rules, not her. "And, whose slut are you?"
"Fuuuck," she cried out, tilting her hips toward his hand, but he denied her. "Yours... I'm... I'm your slut."
His lips found her ear, biting the lobe gently as she continued to squeeze and pinch her own nipple. "Right, again," he laughed. "And my slut doesn't wear any panties."
Her eyes shot open. Was it the sudden realization that Chris had been right? Clayton had been listening to them all along. Or was it Clayton's words striking a deeper truth, that she'd become his slut, both of them knowing on some primal level she wouldn't be wearing panties? Before she could process either thought, Clayton sank two fingers deep inside her core. Ashley's walls pulsed around the intrusion, an orgasm crashing over her without warning, making her toes curl inside her sandals.
"Ohhhh fuck, Oh God," she yelled, the orgasm washing over her like a tsunami. "That feels so good."
"You missed me, didn't you?" Clayton taunted, his fingers staying buried inside her liquid furnace.
"Yes. Yes, oh fuck I missed you. Missed this."
Her hand left her chest, reaching across the center console for the front of Clayton's pants. His fingers felt amazing, but as her orgasm began to subside she needed something even bigger inside her.
"Mmmm fuck," she cooed as Clayton's fingers slipped out of her leaving her feeling empty and needing more.
"Taste yourself," he ordered, putting his digits to her lips just as she managed to get his pants past his hips.
Ashley didn't hesitate. She sucked his fingers into her mouth like it was his cock. God, she wished it was his cock. Her tongue swirled around each digit, delicately swabbing each inch before moving to the next.
When he pulled his fingers from her mouth with a loud pop she was already panting. "You looked like you enjoyed that," he gloated. "Have you ever tasted another woman before? Ever had one taste you?"
The question made Ashley's heart skip a beat and her hand shot down to Clayton's exposed cock.
"Fuck me," she said, already raising out of her seat.
"You didn't answer the question." He held her in place, blocking her leg from coming over his lap.
"That's what you care about right now?" she groaned in protest, her hand pumping his shaft faster.
His fingers were back under her dress and on her clit. His thumb circling the swollen nub in a way that had Ashley rolling her hips with it. "Answer the question, Ashley." He slipped the tip of his finger inside her soaked folds, causing her to gasp. "Have you ever fucked another woman?"
Ashley bit her lip, the question sending an unexpected jolt through her body. She'd never considered it before, at least not seriously. "No," she finally admitted, hoping it would be enough for Clayton to give her what she really wanted. "I haven't."
"Maybe that's what I want my reward to be." He pushed his fingers deeper inside her, feeling her tighten her core in fear of losing them.
Her heart stuttered in her chest. Behind her closed eyes she could see Chris's face. She was letting him down, letting herself down, she needed to get back to the plan. But in that moment she couldn't remember what the plan was.
"Well, unless there's a woman in the backseat or back at your house waiting, I'd say that can't happen." She attempted a playful tone, trying to regain some control of the situation.
Clayton chuckled, the sound causing her to try to drive his fingers deeper. "Not today," he conceded, his free hand sliding up to cup her breast, thumb brushing across her exposed nipple. "But soon. Very soon."
"Clayton—" she started, but her protest died on her lips as he pinched her nipple, hard enough to make her cry out. "Mmmm fuck."
"I actually have someone already in mind," he continued, as if she hadn't spoken.
Ashley's mind raced despite the mounting pleasure. She needed to talk to Chris to let him know what was going on. To... "Ohhhh yes, fuck I need you, baby." His fingers had curled, pressing against her G-spot and making her lose focus.
"Say you'll do it," Clayton demanded, his pace increasing. "Say you'll be a good girl and do exactly what I want."
She was close, she didn't know how, but she was ready to cum again. "I—I need to think—"
His fingers withdrew completely, leaving her empty and aching. "Wrong answer."
Her body was on fire. Each individual follicle of hair all the way down to her freshly painted toenails. Energy and excitement blazed along her spine, nuzzling between her legs, dancing along her clit.
"Please," she whimpered, her hips still grinding against the air.
"Say yes, Ashley." He had her. Clayton knew she was going to submit to his every whim. "Say you'll do whatever I ask. Whoever I ask."
She knew she should at least try to negotiate, but her body was screaming for release. She wasn't getting back to his house, that mission was already a failure. But she at least needed to maintain his trust. She convinced herself she was giving in for the greater good. So he wouldn't suspect that they were on to him.
"Yes." She rolled her hips, desperate to find his fingers again. "I'll do it."
He rewarded her, pushing his fingers into her core, and curling them. "Say it properly."
"I'll do whatever you want. Ohhh fuck," she gasped, her tongue catching between her teeth. "Whoever you want. Please, Clayton. Fuck... Please don't stop."
"Good girl," he purred, his thumb finding her clit. "Now come take what you really want."
Before she could even consider what he'd said, she threw her leg over his lap. His fingers pressed into the soft flesh of her ass, pulling her toward his massive manhood.
"Ohhhh," Ashley moaned, the moment his thick head pressed against her clit. She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing his face to her chest. His teeth found her nipple, clamping down and making her see stars as her juices coated his shaft. "Yesss, oh fuck. Fuck me, Clayton. Please."
He smiled, all thoughts of his father, of Tom, were long gone. He had Ashley right where he wanted her, begging him to fuck her with Chris blissfully unaware just thirty feet away.
Ashley lifted her hips, angling Clayton's manhood into just the right position. She needed this, her body was on fire. She knew Chris would be upset this hadn't gone completely according to plan. But then, either way, it would have ended with her fucking Clayton, at least she didn't need to feel guilty about that part.
Her hips found the angle they were looking for, the tip of Clayton's shaft separating her walls. "Mmm yes," she moaned, intoxicated with lust. Without any resistance, Clayton slammed his hips forward, inch after inch of his throbbing cock invading her married pussy.
"Uhhhhhh fuuuccckk," Ashley moaned as she gripped Clayton's muscular shoulders, her nails raking down his back. She felt incredibly full. The nerves across every inch of her pussy felt like they were on fire. Clayton sighed in delight as he felt her velvet walls wrap around him.
Her hands tightened on his shoulders, her hips already grinding into his legs as she rocked her body in a way that made his cock hit all the right places.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Clayton taunted, his greedy mouth alternating between each of her tits, now fully out of the yellow dress. "To ride my cock right here where anyone could see you."
He felt her body respond, the windows of the car now completely fogged over. "To fuck me right here in your driveway while your impotent husband cluelessly sits inside."
The last remnants of rational thought flared in Ashley's mind. She stopped rolling her hips, her mouth hanging open in dread. "Chris," she whispered. "I... we were supposed to call him before... Ooooh God."
Clayton had lifted his hips, taking over the duties of their fucking while Ashley wrestled with her own guilt.
"Mmm you want me to call him. Tell him how good your pussy feels wrapped around my dick?"
"Unnngh. Yes. I mean... no." She pushed her chest into Clayton's mouth. "Fffuck you feel so good. So fucking good."
Shame and arousal washed over Ashley as Clayton's cock pushed deeper inside her. Her hand reached into the passenger seat, blindly looking for her phone as Clayton raced to get her to climax. With shaking hands she felt the cool touch of the case and pulled it out of her bag, her hips never stopping their drive into Clayton's lap.
She barely had enough thought to push dial on Chris's name, the phone slipping from her grip.
"Allow me," Clayton said, with a laugh as he grabbed the phone to keep it from dropping to the floor of the car. "You're too distracted to talk."
"Aaaahhhh," was the only response Ashley could muster, her hips unrelenting even as panic flickered through her consciousness. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
Clayton pressed the speakerphone button just as Chris's voice filtered through.
"Ashley? Are you okay?"
"Hey, bud," Clayton said in his usual cocky tone. "I'm afraid Ashley is a little busy right now and can't come to the phone." He slapped her ass with his free hand causing her to jolt.
"Mmmm, oh, oh, fuck." Came her response in the background.
A pause, then Chris's voice cracked. "Clayton. Where... Where is she?"
"Oh, she's right here," Clayton replied, his free hand sliding up to pinch her nipple. Her gasp sounded like a shotgun blast through the phone. "Can't you hear her, Chris? She's riding my cock right now. We didn't even make it out of the drive way she wanted it so bad."
"Chris?" Ashley's voice was high-pitched. "I'm sorry, baby. Things got out of hand and... Ohhh fuck. Yes. Just like that."
Inside the house, Chris's knees buckled. He nearly collapsed, his head barely missing the kitchen counter as he staggered backward. His first impulse was to race outside and pull Ashley away from Clayton. Another loud moan erupted from the phone, followed by the wet sound of lips smacking together. Instead of rushing outside, he found himself drawn to the living room window, phone still pressed against his ear. Clayton's car was clearly visible, rocking back and forth like it was on hydraulics. The driver's side window was completely fogged over, but he could still make out Ashley's silhouette, her back facing toward him as she straddled Clayton in the driver's seat.
"A... Ashley, are you ok?"
"Ohhh fuck Clayton. Mmmm God, you're so fucking big."
Chris's gut twisted even harder. He knew what he was seeing, but he still couldn't believe it. Ashley's head fell back, nearly colliding with the steering wheel as she spurred her lover on. It was only there that he realized how painfully hard he was. He reached down, only for a second, and ran his fingers over the front of his pants, a gasp escaping his lips.
Clayton's laughter filled the receiver. "You're playing with yourself aren't you? You're rubbing your dick, watching, listening while I give your wife the fucking she deserves."
"No.. I—"
"Ohhhh yess. Right there. Oh fuck, I'm going to cum again."
Did she say again? How long had they been at it? Did she even try to make it to his house?
All those thoughts seemed to overwhelm Chris, his hand squeezing his jean covered cock.
"I knew once I fucked her raw she'd never go back. You hated using a condom didn't you, Ashley?"
"Yesss... Fuck you feel so good. Don't stop, baby."
Chris stared at the scene out the window, the sound of Ashley's uninhibited cries echoing in his ears. He felt feverish, and incredibly turned on. As many times as he'd seen this it still wasn't something he could prepare for, like the sudden drop of a roller coaster.
"Tell Chris how good my dick feels. How you can't wait to feel me cum inside you."
"Nnngghh oh fuck, baby. It's so wrong I know. I'm sorry. Ohhhh fuck. I... fuck that feels good."
Chris pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window, his breathing shallow. Despite the danger they were in, his traitorous body responded to the sounds coming through the phone. His erection strained against his pants, making it harder for him to pull his hand away.
"You like that don't you?" Clayton growled. "The way my bare dick feels inside you."
"Yessss," Ashley hissed, sending Chris's head spinning. He squinted through the window, desperate to see the confirmation, but Ashley's dress hindered his view. He felt light headed. His wife wasn't just fucking another man in his driveway, she wasn't making him wear a condom. All of the blood in Chris's body seemed to be in his dick and for a minute he wondered if he was going to pass out.
"You're so fucking wet," Clayton murmured, his voice slightly distant from the phone but still audible. "Is it because he's listening? Does it turn you on knowing your husband can hear how well you're taking my cock?"
Ashley's response was incoherent, a mixture of denial and pleasure that betrayed her internal conflict. Part of her wanted to grab the phone, to assure Chris that she hadn't forgotten about their plan, she just needed to regroup. Another part, growing stronger by the second, simply wanted to surrender to the overwhelming sensations flooding her system.
"Answer me," Clayton demanded, slapping her ass hard enough to make her open her eyes. "Does it turn you on?"
"Yes," she finally admitted. "God, yes."
Chris closed his eyes, his breath fogging the window. The admission should have devastated him. Instead, it sent another pulse of heat straight to his groin. What kind of man was he, to be aroused by his wife's infidelity? By her surrender to the very man threatening to destroy their lives?
A series of slaps echoed through the phone, each one louder than the last. Every moan from Ashley grew louder. "You like it rough don't you?"
"Uh! Uh! Uh!" Ashley's voice rose, completely out of control as Clayton dominated her, each powerful stroke sending her senses spiraling.
"You know what would make this even hotter?" Clayton's teeth caught her neck making her grunt in response. His hands gripped her hips, stilling her movements momentarily. "Turn around. Face the windshield."
Ashley's mind, foggy with pleasure, struggled to process he was saying. "What?"
"I want you to face the house," Clayton clarified, "I think your husband would like to see your face while I fuck you."
"No, just...." she tried to drive her hips back down but he was too strong. She growled in frustration.
"Don't you want to see your husband's face while you take another man's cock? You know he's playing with himself right now. Stroking his cock at the way your tight pussy takes my cock so well."
The remark gave her pause. He was probably right. Chris was touching himself. He always did when she was with Clayton, that was part of their game. So shouldn't she at least watch him the way he was watching her?
Now facing the windshield, Ashley found herself looking directly at the living room window where Chris stood, phone still pressed to his ear, his expression frozen in a mask of shock and arousal. Their eyes locked, separated by thirty feet of driveway and panes of glass that did nothing to diminish the intensity of the connection.
"Look at him," Clayton whispered in her ear, one arm wrapped around her waist to hold her against his chest, the other holding the phone where Chris could still hear every word. "He can't look away. He's hard as a rock watching me fuck you." He adjusted Ashley on his lap, sinking effortlessly back into her dripping core.
"Ohhh," Ashley moaned, her gaze still on Chris. His hand was at the front of his pants but it wasn't moving.
"Chris," she whispered, biting her lip to stifle another moan.
"He can see everything now," Clayton continued, his hips beginning to move again, slower this time, more deliberate. "Every expression on your face, every moment of pleasure I give you."
Inside the house, Chris remained frozen at the window, transfixed by the tableau before him. Ashley's face was flushed, her lips parted, her eyes locked with his in a gaze that communicated more than words ever could. The yellow dress was bunched around her waist, her breasts exposed to his view as Clayton's hands explored her body.
"Tell him," Clayton's voice came through the phone.
"Ohhhh..." Ashley's eyes fluttered shut, as Clayton increased the tempo momentarily before slowing back down. "Play... play with yourself for me, baby. Stroke your cock while Clayton... Mmmm fuck. While Clayton fucks me."
Chris couldn't respond, couldn't form words as he watched Ashley's face reflect each sensation. Every thrust, every touch played out in the minute changes of her expression. It was so fucked up on so many levels. But also... he unzipped his pants, freeing his throbbing cock.
"This body was built for fucking," Clayton said, squeezing the flesh of her ass.
"Yes! Yes! Fuck me, baby."
"Tell him how it feels, Ashley," Clayton commanded. "Tell your husband what you're feeling right now."
"Uhhh fuck," Ashley increased her tempo, matching Clayton's thrusts. Another orgasm started to take shape. It felt like she had swan dived off a cliff and her body was racing toward the impact. "God, you feel so good. I feel so fucking full."
"Fuuck, " Chris whispered, wrapping his hand around his cock. He didn't want to start stroking it, not yet. He was afraid he'd cum too fast.
"And who's the only person who can make you feel like this?"
She opened her eyes, a smile forming on her face as she watched her husband's hand move over the length of his cock. "You... Ohhh fuck, Clayton, only you."
"You like being fucked by someone else's cock don't you?" Clayton's taunts were getting darker, his voice low and dripping with authority.
"Yes! Oh Fuck!" Ashley moaned, no longer able to distinguish between truth and fantasy.
"This may have started for Chris, but now it's about you isn't it?" Another hard slap filled the air. "It's about how much you love my cock, isn't it?"
"Unnngh, God." Ashley bit down on her bottom lip not wanting to admit it. This was a line too far.
"Isn't it!" He grabbed her hair, pulling her neck back, his teeth finding her flesh at the same time he impaled her.
"Nnnnggghh Yes! Fuck yes. I love it. I love your cock."
Clayton's triumphant laughter cut through the line. "Did you hear that, Chris? Even with you listening, she can't deny it." The sounds of their movement intensified, the rhythm growing more urgent. "I'm going to make her cum now. I want you to hear exactly what your wife sounds like when I fill her with my cum."
Chris's knees buckled as Clayton's words registered. He gripped the windowsill, trying to steady himself as a wave of emotions crashed into him. He could rush outside, put an end to this. He should put an end to this. The rational part of his brain screamed that this was different, this was dangerous and not part of their game anymore. Clayton was going to cum inside her, right there in his driveway, while he watched impotently from the window. But his body betrayed him, rooting him to the spot as a strange, terrible heat spread through his chest. His mouth opened, but no sound emerged. The word "stop" formed on his tongue, then dissolved into nothing. He watched Ashley's face through the fogged window, saw the look of pure bliss on her face, the way her tongue slipped from her mouth, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she reached for her orgasm. He'd seen that look a thousand times, but never like this. Never as the observer as another man spilled his seed inside her.
The worst part wasn't that he knew it was going to happen, that she wanted it to happen. It was that he'd made such a big deal about it before, about how betrayed he felt. But now, he was just letting it happen, he was aching for it to happen. He actually wished he could be closer, to see the exact moment it happened. What the fuck was wrong with him? Was he even a man? The question burned through him even as his hand moved along his shaft.
Ashley's breath came in short gasps, all of her defenses falling even as her eyes remained locked with Chris's. Her orgasm began in her core, exploding out to every inch of her body.
"Chris," she gasped, her toes curling as her eyes fluttered closed. "Chris, I—"
"Don't say his name," Clayton growled, his hand sliding up to grip her throat. "When you cum, you say mine. Understand?"
She nodded, her gaze finding Chris's as he slowed his strokes... Or had he stopped altogether? She couldn't tell.
"Look at him," Clayton whispered in her ear, his voice carrying clearly through the phone still on speaker between them. "Look at how hard he is watching you. He's enjoying this as much as you are."
"I can't... Fuck. I'm going to...OH FUCK" Ashley's words dissolved into incoherence as pleasure built to an unbearable crescendo inside her.
"Say my name," Clayton demanded, his thrusts growing more urgent, more demanding. "Look at your husband and say my name when you cum."
"Clayton!" The name tore from her throat as her orgasm crashed through her, her body convulsing around him. "Oh Fuck, Clayton. Cum for me, baby. Give me your cum."
Ashley was already riding out her orgasm when she felt Clayton's release. The warmth of it consumed her. She felt the muscles of her pussy tighten, milking rope after rope from his throbbing cock.
Through the window, she watched Chris's expression transform, his own release evident in the sudden tensing of his body, the closing of his eyes, the parting of his lips.
Chris gritted his teeth, his orgasm imminent. He couldn't explain it. He'd barely even touched himself, just a few absent strokes while Ashley... Yet the orgasm tore through him. The intensity of the moment both shocking and overwhelming.
With a final grunt, his cum spilled over his fingers in hot pulses, each wave synchronized with Ashley's visible shudders of pleasure across the driveway. The connection between them transcended physical space, as if their bodies were somehow still joined despite the distance, despite the other man buried inside her.
When he could finally draw breath again, Chris became acutely aware of his position, standing at his own living room window, exposed and vulnerable, his spent cock still in his hand, his release sliding down the glass. He should feel shame. Anger. Jealousy. Some appropriate emotional response to watching his wife climax while calling another man's name.
Instead, he felt a strange, floating sense of inevitability. As if they'd been traveling toward this exact moment from the first time he'd watched Ashley with Clayton.
"Come... come back inside," he whispered.
"Now that she's gotten what she needed I'll send her right in," Clayton's voice cut through, smug and satisfied. "Although you may want her to shower first. She's already leaking." He laughed at his own joke. "I guess it was an even bigger load than I expected."
The line went dead. Chris backed away from the window, his legs still shaky after his unexpected orgasm. A million things were running through his head, but he was unable to focus on a single one. Instead, he stuffed himself back into his pants and collapsed onto the sofa. He tried to make sense of what went wrong. This morning they had a plan. Ashley would go to Clayton's they would... things would happen, but then she'd have time to search a little to see if there was anything they could use to get Chris out of this mess.
Outside, he could see Ashley climbing back over to the passenger seat, adjusting her dress so the neighbors didn't see just how much Chris had lost control of the situation. Clayton was saying something to her, she nodded, her head hanging low like she realized just how fucked up the entire situation was.
While he was wallowing in post-nut clarity, Ashley walked through the door. If he hadn't just watched her performance through the window he would have had no idea what just happened. Her dress was put back in place, her makeup still mostly put together, although he could still see some redness on her cheeks and neck. She looked... normal. Maybe this was what their new normal looked like?
"Hey," she said, softly, standing in the doorway looking at her feet.
"Are... are you okay?" Chris asked standing from the sofa and rushing over to her. The second he did, she threw her arms around his neck pulling her body tight against his.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. It sounded like she was holding back tears. "I really thought it would work. But then the second I got outside everything just... It's like I lose my mind when I'm with him."
Chris ran his fingers up her back and through her hair. "I know," he said, softly. "It's okay. Everything will be okay."
"How can you still think that after... after all of this." Ashley pressed her legs together, Clayton's seed was dripping down her leg reminding her exactly what she'd just done.
Chris pulled back from her, his eyes searching hers. "Because I still have you. And that's all that matters." He pulled her back into his body, her tears soaking through his t-shirt. He brought his lips to her ear so no one could hear. "I'll find a way to get in contact with Holbrook. We'll figure it out."
***
Yesterday's encounter between Ashley and Clayton played on repeat in Chris's mind as he drove mindlessly through the city streets. He left work just after lunch, telling Katie he had a doctor's appointment. The lies seemed to be stacking up, becoming easier with each passing day. He hadn't even seen Clayton that morning. He was locked behind a closed office door from the minute he got in. Chris would have believed he snuck out the back if it hadn't been for the occasional shout and slamming of the phone coming from behind the door.
Chris pulled into the parking lot of Riverside Medical Plaza, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air blasting from the AC vents. He'd chosen this location carefully, wanting his movements to appear believable if Clayton was tracking his phone. The park where Holbrook wanted to meet was less than a five-minute walk from here. He was fairly confident he could slip in and out without being seen.
The walk to the park took longer than it should have. Each step Chris found himself looking over his shoulder to see if he was being followed. More than once he ducked behind a tree or building just to be sure. He chastised himself for acting so dramatic. He felt like he was in a spy movie, a profession he was now confident he'd never be able to pull off. When he finally spotted Holbrook, he was sitting on a bench facing a pond. He wore a light colored t-shirt, jeans and a baseball cap. Just a normal everyday person sitting in the park feeding the ducks.
"Beautiful day," Holbrook commented without looking up as Chris approached. "Have a seat."
Chris lowered himself onto the bench, keeping distance between them. "Thanks for meeting me."
"It sounded important." He continued feeding the ducks, his eyes never once glancing toward Chris. "Where'd you find a payphone anyway? I didn't know there were any still in service."
When Chris decided to call the special agent, he knew he couldn't do it from his phone. He'd remembered seeing one outside the grocery store a few blocks from where they lived. He'd been lucky to find that it still had a dial tone, he wasn't sure he'd trust another smart phone.
"You were right," Chris said, glancing around to ensure no one was listening before leaning forward. "Clayton is using BitGuardian to access information it shouldn't have access to."
Holbrook nodded, just the slightest movement of his head. Chris nearly missed it, as the large man tossed another piece of bread into the water watching the ducks swarm to it. "Go on."
"The software, as you know, is designed to scan any device on the same network. That's its legitimate function, identifying security vulnerabilities." Chris paused waiting for some type of reaction. He never got one. "But Clayton has a backdoor. Once BitGuardian is installed, he can access any connected device."
"And you have proof of that?" The last crumb of bread sank into the water. Holbrook dug his thick hand into his pocket, pulling out another piece.
Chris's jaw tightened. "Not... exactly." He swallowed hard. "Yesterday, my wife and I were... discussing something private. In our bedroom." He saw Holbrook grinned and Chris felt his cheeks turn red. He wasn't completely sure exactly how much the FBI knew, but he knew it was more than he cared for. "Anyway, within the next hour Clayton knew exactly what... what we'd discussed. I mean, details that would have been impossible to know unless you were listening."
"Or without someone else telling him. Your wife perhaps?" His tone was neutral, but Chris couldn't help but feel like there was something accusatory there. Like Holbrook knew something he didn't.
"No. Impossible." Chris shook his head emphatically. "And it hasn't only been once. Once I started really thinking about it... He knows things, intimate things, about our conversations, our plans. Things only the two of us should know." He leaned closer. "The software is built to scan other systems on your network for security threats. But he must have altered it. Made it where it self-installs or something without permission."
Two ducks started fighting over a large piece of bread, their wings flapping against the water, causing a spectacle before the smaller one flew away in defeat causing Holbrook to smile. "An interesting theory. One that aligns with our suspicions." He turned to face Chris directly. "But completely inadmissible in court."
"What?" Chris's voice rose slightly before he caught himself. "He's literally spying on us in our own home."
"And without tangible proof, it's nothing but conjecture." Holbrook exhaled and for a second he almost looked sorry for Chris. "Look, in these cases, an accusation like 'he knew what my wife said in the bathroom' doesn't hold up against a team of corporate attorneys. They'll say she texted him, or hold up the picture I showed you in the diner and say she told him in a moment of passion."
Chris's stomach flipped, for a moment he thought he may vomit. He couldn't let those pictures, those details show up in court. The things people would say about him, about Ashley. He ran his hand through his hair trying to calm himself down.
"So what the hell am I supposed to do?" He tried to keep his voice low, but it was near impossible. "I feel like I'm walking on eggshells in my own home."
"What we need are files. Actual recordings he's made. Financial records linking him directly to the offshore accounts." Holbrook's eyes never left Chris's face. "We need the kind of evidence his daddy's expensive lawyers can't explain away."
"And how exactly am I supposed to get that?" He shook his head like this was all just some sort of bad dream that he would soon wake up from.
Holbrook remained silent for a moment, watching a child throw a ball for a dog across the park. "That's not my problem, Mr. Parker. My job is to follow the evidence, and right now, it points to you."
"You know I'm being set up."
"Knowing and proving are different things in my business." Holbrook stood, pushing his hands into his pockets. "My superiors are pushing for arrests. They want results. I know you're not the guy, but I can't stall forever."
Chris felt like he was drowning, like he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. "So we're on our own."
"Not entirely. But you need to give me something to work with." Holbrook winced then leaned down closer to Chris. "If I were you, I'd lean into the opportunities I've got. The special kind of... friendship the three of you have."
Chris's hand balled into a fist. How much worse would it be for him if he assaulted a federal agent? "You're saying I should let him keep fucking my wife? And what if I can't get on board with that?"
For the first time since Chris arrived Holbrook seemed to care about people hearing their conversation. His eyes darted to the left before coming back to match the fire in Chris's eyes. "Then I suggest you start looking for a good lawyer."
Chris watched the agent walk away, the warning hanging in the air like a guillotine blade. He remained on the bench long after Holbrook had disappeared, trying to process what he'd been told. They needed evidence, hard, undeniable proof that Clayton was the one behind everything.
The trip back to the car was much faster than when he arrived. He was no longer concerned about people seeing him, he was too preoccupied with where he was supposed to go from here. He wasn't sure he could trust Holbrook, the man seemed to be giving him half truths, but then he didn't have anywhere else to turn. Without concrete evidence, they were treading water in a sea that Clayton controlled.
As he approached his car he again thought about the events yesterday in his front yard. Ashley had certainly enjoyed herself, and didn't seem to be in any real danger, but still... the thought of sending her back into that situation made his stomach churn, but what choice did they have? Time was running out.
Chris retrieved his phone from under the seat and powered it back on. The screen lit up with notifications, but he barely registered them. His mind was already racing ahead, trying to formulate a new plan. Preferably one that wouldn't end with Ashley climbing into bed, or anywhere else for that matter, with the person who brought the FBI into their lives.
The car felt suddenly claustrophobic, as if Clayton might be listening even now. He started the engine, and rolled down the windows, letting the warm air rush in as he pulled out of the parking lot.
They needed a new approach. One that would give Ashley the upper hand this time. One that wouldn't leave them exposed and vulnerable. One that wouldn't end with him watching helplessly through a window as everything spiraled further out of control.
The question was: did such a plan even exist?
***
Steam rose from the bathroom faucet, fogging up the mirror as Ashley tried to apply her makeup.
"You don't think this is a bit overkill?" Ashley asked a little too loudly for Chris's liking, trying to be heard over the faucet running at full blast. Chris took a step toward her, running his forearm over the mirror as a peace offering.
"We have smart devices all over the house." He looked around the bathroom, confirming there wasn't something he missed. "And after the car... it's obvious he's listening."
"Yeah," she said in almost a whisper. And my slut doesn't wear any panties. The phrase replayed in her head causing her hands to shake as she applied her foundation, the room suddenly much too warm for her liking. Was Clayton really listening in on their conversation, or was he right? Was the fact that she wasn't wearing panties obvious to Clayton because she was a...
Chris shifted uncomfortably. "Holbrook thinks we should lean into our... arrangement with Clayton. He's unwilling to help us... me, unless we are able to get hard evidence." Chris felt the bile raise in his throat, but pushed it down. He wasn't sure what was worse: the fact that the FBI all but said Ashley should keep sleeping with Clayton, or the fact that despite it all, his cock still swelled at the thought of it.
"I know the last time didn't go as planned." Ashley watched Chris's reaction through the mirror as she put on her earrings. "But I think next time will be easier. I'll... I'll do better about controlling myself around him."
Chris shifted uncomfortably. He saw his wife's eyes travel down his body, her gaze stopping on the swell of his pants, a smile forming on her lips.
"Maybe..." Chris adjusted his stance. "Maybe, there won't have to be a next time. We have that dinner with Dave and Jen this weekend." Ashley's expression shifted, just briefly. Was that disappointment, or was he just imagining things? "I've got those files ready that Dave needed." He handed her a small thumb drive. "Make sure Jen gives this to him when you see her tonight."
"And what happens if he can't find anything? Shouldn't we keep appearances up just in case?"
The casual way she said it made Chris's stomach churn. "I... guess, but I have the Seattle trip next week and I really want to talk about..."
Ashley looked at her watch, an old silver Timex, her mother gave her. Chris insisted she wear it instead of carrying around her phone so much. "Oh shit, I'm late." She spun around and kissed Chris on the mouth. "Sorry love, let's talk about it later. Okay?"
She turned off the faucet, the silence a final kill shot to whatever conversation Chris wanted to have. "I'll see you in the morning. I love you." As she brushed past him, her fingers trailed across the front of his pants. "Mmm stay ready for me," she whispered giving it a squeeze as he watched her leave out the bedroom door.
---
One thing Ashley never got used to when working nights was just how quiet everything was. Her footsteps seemed to echo off the walls as she made her way to the nurses station. The patients doors were all closed for the night making the only other sound she heard the soft tick of the clock as she rounded the corner.
When she got there, Jen was sitting with her feet kicked up on the desk, nursing a cup of coffee, auburn hair spilling over her shoulder as she scrolled through social media.
"Geez, don't get up or anything," Ashley said with a sarcastic smile.
Jen looked up from her phone, green eyes sparkling as she broke into a grin that made the freckles across her nose crinkle.
"I didn't know you were working tonight! I thought it was tomorrow." she leapt from her chair, pulling Ashley into a hug.
"Amy called out and they needed a replacement. I figured we have a party to plan, so why not." Ashley returned the hug with equal enthusiasm, happy to have a minute where she didn't feel like she had to watch what she was saying.
"Dave is so excited about it. I swear I think he just misses basic human interaction." She released Ashley from her grasp, going back to the desk to sit.
"I don't know how he can do it," Ashley said, reaching over her head to store her purse, with her phone inside, into the overhead cabinet. "I would go nuts not being able to talk to actual people all day."
Jen watched as Ashley put her things into the storage space above. Her scrubs rose as she stood on her toes, causing her anklet to catch the light. "Yeah..." she tore her eyes away as Ashley straightened back up. "He's been a whole new person since our dinner together. I think remembering what it was like to talk to people who aren't just boxes on a screen really helped. Maybe it will help remind him to buy me something nice for my birthday."
Ashley nodded absentmindedly as she scrolled through the list of new admissions. "Like that anklet. It's beautiful. What was the occasion?"
It took Ashley a second to compose herself, thankful she was staring at her computer so Jen couldn't see the blush the colored her face.
"Oh um... nothing special. He just likes to keep me guessing I guess." She bit her lip, running her hands over her thighs.
"Dave never buys me jewelry anymore. He says it's overpriced." Jen looked Ashley over, remembering her conversation with Dave. "What's the key represent?"
"Oh... um. Just that I have they key to his heart, I guess," she said with a nervous laugh. Her eyes stayed glued on the computer screen in front of her, a familiar name appearing.
"Oh, Mrs. Johnson's back?" She hoped she could steer the conversation back to work.
"She was admitted this morning," Jen said, taking the hint. "She's buzzed me at least a dozen times already asking for meds."
Ashley laughed, reaching into her pocket. "The poor thing." She handed the thumb drive to Jen. "Chris wanted to pass this along so you can give it to Dave. Something about the upcoming audit."
"Oh, I'll make sure he gets it," she said, reaching for her purse under the desk. "He's been talking about it since dinner. He's like a kid at Christmas with this stuff."
Ashley laughed, getting to her feet. "I'm going to go check on Mrs. Johnson. You got things here while I'm gone?"
Jen exaggerated looking up and down the empty hallway. "I think I'll manage."
As Ashley walked toward the end of the hall, heat flooded her body. The conversation with Jen had gotten more personal than she'd expected. Why did she suddenly seem so interested in her anklet, and why did talking about it give Ashley such a rush?
***
Ashley knocked on the door of the room at the end of the hall before pushing it open. The glow of the tv lit up the room, laughter from the Tonight Show filling the air as Mrs. Johnson sat up in her bed giggling. Her eyes lit up when she saw Ashley.
"Hello, dear," she said, her voice more hoarse than normal. "I was just watching a little late night tv. This Fallon guy sure is a looker." She nodded toward the TV where the host was doing his monologue. "Do you think he has a granny kink he wants to live out?"
Ashley giggled, pulling the covers off her favorite patient slightly to check her vitals. "If he does, I'm sure you'll be the first to know," she said, frowning at the low oxygen reading. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Just a little under the weather." She waved her hand dismissively.
"Your chart says you took a pretty bad fall while you were home. Bumped your head pretty good." She stood at the foot of the bed reviewing the notes. Mrs. Johnson's condition was deteriorating. The cancer in her liver had spread throughout her body making her significantly weaker.
"Enough about me, dear. What is it you kids say? Spill the tea?" Mrs. Johnson laughed, reaching for Ashley's hand. "How's your situation been?"
Ashley hesitated, glancing toward the door. She had other patients to check on, but Mrs. Johnson was the only person who knew her dark secret, and she had lots to get off her chest.
"It's been... intense," she said, chewing on her lip as she relived the last few weeks. "I recently went to his house, just me."
"Oh?" Mrs. Johnson perked up. "It's always so liberating not worrying about how your husband will react to what you do, isn't it?" She released Ashley's hand, too weak to keep it outstretched. "The first time I went alone without my Robert, the sex was out of this world."
A gentle throb blossomed between Ashley's legs at the thought of that night. "Yeah it was... good. Really good actually" She smiled, and sat on the corner of the bed. "In fact, it was so intense, he gave me a present."
"Oh?" Mrs. Johnson's gaze drifted downward, watching Ashley raise the leg of her scrubs.
"Isn't it beautiful?" She asked turning her ankle from side to side to give the older woman a better view.
Mrs. Johnson's expression shifted. Gone was the warmth in her eyes, replaced by something more alarming. "Sweetie, do you know what that anklet means?"
"I don't follow. It's just an anklet," Ashley said, though something in Mrs. Johnson's tone made her defensive.
Mrs. Johnson was quiet for a long moment, trying to figure out exactly how to phrase what she was about to say. "In certain... communities, an anklet like that has a very... specific meaning."
Ashley's stomach dropped, her face going pale. "That's ridiculous. It's just jewelry."
"Sweetie," Mrs. Johnson broke into a coughing fit, reaching for her cup of water on the bedside table. "That anklet lets people know you're... in the lifestyle."
"Lifestyle?" The warmth Ashley felt spreading through her body earlier evaporated, replaced by an anger that made her legs shake.
"A hotwife. It means you're married but... like to play around." She reached for Ashley's hand but she snatched it away. "You're advertising to the world the type of relationship you're in."
The blood drained from Ashley's face as the implications hit her. Every time she'd worn it in public, to the restaurant with Chris, to work, shopping. She'd been sending a signal she didn't even know existed. How many people had seen it and understood what it meant? The room started to spin, she was dizzy.
"He wouldn't do that," Ashley said, but her voice lacked conviction. "Why would he—"
"When you get in relationships like this," Mrs. Johnson's eyes were glossy. "You have to be careful about the partners you select. People like to take advantage"
"Don't do that," Ashley snapped, standing abruptly. "I'm not some naive girl being taken advantage of. I know exactly what type of people are out there. And I know exactly what Clayton is. But he—"
"Is manipulating you. He's making this about his entertainment. You're just a conquest to him. It's not about you." Mrs. Johnson said quietly. "If you were truly partners in this, why keep you in the dark about something so significant?"
Ashley's hands trembled. The memory of the man at the bar, his confidence, the words that had stung more than she'd admitted. Had he seen the anklet? Known what it meant?
"I've seen men like this in my day. It's best to stay away from them." Mrs. Johnson broke into another cough.
"Just because you were taken advantage of doesn't mean that I am." Ashley's voice cracked slightly. She watched Mrs. Johnson's face crumple with hurt and felt a stab of guilt, but pushed it aside. "I know what I'm doing."
"I understand what it's like to get caught up in the excitement and lose sight of who's really in control." She took a sip of water, her hands shaking. "You're being manipulated, dear. You need to be more—"
"I'm in control," Ashley shot back. She started backing toward the door, desperate to escape the conversation.
"Ashley, please. I'm trying to help you before—"
"Before what? Before I end up like you? Alone in a hospital bed with nothing but bitter old memories?" Ashley's hand found the door handle.
"I need to check on my other patients."
Before Mrs. Johnson could get another word in Ashley slammed the door shut behind her. She stormed down the hallway to the stairwell, pushing the door open and allowing the cool air to slap against her face. She slumped against the cool concrete, bursting into tears. The second the words left her mouth, she immediately regretted it. Mrs. Johnson was just trying to protect her, to make sure Ashley didn't make the same mistakes as her.
She picked herself off the ground, wiping her tears with her scrub top. But she wasn't the same person as Mrs. Johnson. She wasn't making the same mistakes, or being manipulated. She was the one in control. Sure, Clayton may have pushed some boundaries, but she went along with it. She liked it.
But with every step that rattled off the empty stairwell walls, memories pushed their way into the front of her mind. Men checking her out, offering to buy her drinks, that knowing look in their eyes. Shame washed over her, doing little to quench the anger burning inside. She needed to take back control, to prove to herself and everyone else that she made the rules. She wasn't anyone's pawn.
***
Ashley's tears had dried by the time she reached the third floor, but the shame and anger were still there, fueling her to take back control in her life. She found exactly what she was looking for as soon as she walked out of the stairwell.
You're just a conquest to him.
The words still echoed in her mind. She replayed every encounter with Clayton in her head, each decision that was made. Was it really her making it, or was she being manipulated? This entire thing started because of Chris. She was doing it for him, but along the way she started calling the shots... didn't she?
The uncertainty gnawed at her. Mrs. Johnson's words had stripped away the confidence she'd built, leaving her feeling exposed. She hated the thought that all of this was just a game to Clayton. Like she was just some prize to be won. Her fists clenched and unclenched as fragments of every encounter with Clayton flashed through her mind. Had any of those moments truly been her choice?
The third floor was all but abandoned. They were going through a remodel and all the patients on that floor had been moved to other areas of the hospital. Ashley wandered onto the floor, trying to clear her head after her fight with Mrs. Johnson. A familiar tingle shot through her body as she spotted the mop bucket sitting outside the door of room 312. She knew exactly how she would take back control.
If she had her phone, she would have sent Chris a text and... no, she didn't need his permission. Besides, he would just freak out that Clayton could see those texts. He'd just have to hear about it when she got home. She smiled to herself, stepping past the wet floor sign and casting a casual glance over her shoulder to ensure the hallway was empty before she slipped into the room.
The Janitor was on the other side of the room, back to the door when Ashley entered the room. His dark hair was lighter in the back, specks of gray she'd never noticed before, his large frame moving from side to side, as he coated the floor with water.
"You missed a spot," she said hoping to startle him. Instead, she watched as his movement slowed, and he stood up a little straighter.
"Looks pretty clean to me," he said, his accent more pronounced than before. He set the mop to the side and turned to face her. His eyes were dark, wrinkled around the edges. Had she ever noticed that before? The lines at the corner of his mouth grew into a toothy, yellow smile that must have taken years of smoking to achieve.
Ashley stepped deeper into the room, her stomach knotting with each step as she let her gaze drift toward the front of his overalls. "Trust me, I'm not sure how you missed it." She licked her lips, smiling to herself as she saw the sudden movement in his mid-section. "Right there, in front of you."
"And what, you came all the way up here to help me with it?" He reached up, unsnapping the first few buttons of his uniform. Each snap seemed to send a pulse through her body that made her nipples ache.
"Just making sure everyone gets the... attention they deserve." Her smile grew larger, the tent in the front of his overalls now unavoidable.
"Does your husband know you're here, princess? He hoping for another game of telephone?"
"I don't need his permission to do anything," Ashley shot back, feeling heat rise in her cheeks.
"That didn't seem to be the case before."
Ashley let out a huff of air. "I can leave if you'd like."
The Janitor chewed on his lip, there was something going on here. This wasn't the same timid nurse he'd spent months breaking down. She seemed more determined this time, like she had her own agenda. "Nah, just don't want to see anyone getting in trouble is all."
"I make my own decisions."
"That so?" He reached out to touch her, but she swatted his hand away. "Ya'll sure are somethin." His laugh was low and had a gravel to it that made what she was about to do feel all the more wicked. "And what choice is that exactly, princess?"
She sank to her knees in front of him, her hands reaching into his overalls. Her nails raked through coarse body hair as she worked another button free "I told you. You missed a spot, I'm just here to make sure it gets properly cleaned."
"It was too bad we were interrupted in the stairwell last time. We didn't get a chance to finish what we started." His breathing was becoming more ragged as Ashley's fingers worked their way further down his gut.
She looked up at him through her lashes, maintaining eye contact as another button gave way. "It did seem awful rude of me not to return the favor. After all you were such a gentleman." She laughed at her own joke, her fingers finding the waistband of his briefs. "Mmm what do we have here?" she asked, his length already poking through the top of the band.
"Why don't you get a closer look and find out?" he growled, running his fingers through her hair.
A shiver ran up her spine, feeling the man's rough hands on her head. His touch was different than both Chris and Clayton. She shrugged his hand away, this wasn't about him. "Good things come to boys who wait," she teased. The fire in her core continued to build as she freed him from the confines of his overalls.
"Ooohhhh." She couldn’t suppress her surprise as she slid his briefs down his legs. He was far more impressive than she'd anticipated. His cock was thick and heavy, the dark, curly hair around it, making it seem slightly smaller than Clayton's, though she couldn’t quite tell. The head was a deep shade of pink, slightly swollen and glistening at the tip with the hint of pre-cum. A faint scar ran just below the head, an unexpected mark that added uniqueness to its otherwise flawless appearance, making Ashley wonder how it had come to be. Her fingers wrapped around it, drawing a soft gasp of approval from him. They didn’t quite touch as she stroked him at a slow pace, watching his large, hairy testicles lift and tighten with each pull.
His head fell back against the wall, his mouth opening into a silent moan.
"You've thought about this for a long time haven't you?" Her grip tightened, her mouth starting to water as she watched another bead of pre-cum leak from his angry looking tip. "Of me on my knees with your hard cock in my hand?" She licked her lips. "You should have told me it was this impressive. Maybe I would have done this sooner."
"I'm not so sure hubby would have liked that," he sighed. "Although, I have to admit, I do like the view."
"I told you," her grip tightened. "I can think for myself." Before he could say something else that would only piss her off, her mouth wrapped around his thick, veiny shaft, silencing him completely. "Mmm," she hummed, her fist still stroking the bottom half of the massive member while her jaw ached at being stretched.
She pulled her lips off it with a loud pop, her hand working the top of his shaft, collecting her spit in her palm to better lubricate the rest of his cock. "Still think I need permission?" she asked, a surge of confidence rushing through her. She sat back on her heels, admiring the girthy appendage in her hand. She scraped her fingers across his sac, allowing her tongue to run along the length of his shaft.
His scent was musky, it should have given her pause, instead, it seemed to drive her. She took his sac into her mouth sucking gently while she stroked him. "Holy shit," he gasped, reaching behind him to find a ledge or something to hold onto. He wasn't sure what had gotten into this woman, but she was going like someone possessed.
"You know, I really should be thanking you," she said, pulling off his large sac, her free hand coming to rest on her inner thigh. "If it wasn't for you, Chris and I would have never tried anal." She swirled her tongue around his crown, letting it glide over her slit. The taste of his precum made her press her close her thighs around her hand. "Now, it's probably my new favorite thing."
"Well then maybe I sh..."
Half of his cock disappeared into her throat, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. She tried to relax and allow more of it in, her eyes watering at the sensation. "Mmmmm," she hummed, drawing him deeper into her mouth.
The Janitor pushed his hips forward, watching in awe as more and more of his member disappeared past her lips until her nose was pressed into his matted pubes. "You look so fucking perfect like that," he said, pulling his hips back slightly then ramming them forward.
A noise from the hallway broke the spell. It sounded like someone was trying to come into the room. Ashley pulled up from the thick shaft, spinning her body to look at the door, the thrill and embarrassment of getting caught made her core ache.
"Probably just the wind," The Janitor insisted, turning her attention back to his spit covered manhood.
The thought of going to check eased from her mind, she wanted to finish what she started. Her hand replaced her lips as the base of his shaft, pulling her mouth off completely as she gasped for air. "Are you going to cum for me, big boy?" She could feel her makeup running down her face, but she didn't care. She needed this, needed everyone to know she did things as she pleased. She didn't need permission, wasn't being used.
"Jesus Christ", he groaned, trying to catch his breath. "You've turned into quite the cock sucker haven't you?"
Ashley smiled, the hand between her legs applying just enough pressure to her clit to give her some small amount of relief. "Just doing my part to keep things clean," she said before stretching her jaw to accommodate him once again. She felt his knees buckle, before catching himself, his entire shaft engulfed into the wet inferno of her mouth.
His moans fueled her even more, pushing her hips forward for more pressure. Mrs. Johnson had it all wrong. The man moaning and losing balance before her was proof that she was the one in control. Each gasp and jerk of his hips confirmed she was the one with all the power.
"Cum for me, big boy. Let me taste how bad you want it."
His breathing grew ragged, his hands bracing against the wall as Ashley maintained complete control of the encounter. She could feel his body tensing, responding exactly as she intended. This was her choice, her power, her moment of reclaiming what felt stolen. Her hand and mouth worked as a unit. With each pull from her wrist, her cheeks would hallow out, desperate for the proof that she had the power. Her gags were replaced by wet, slurping noises as The Janitor's eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hips tilting forward as he grabbed the back of Ashley's head.
Cum shot like a rocket straight to the back of Ashley's throat. She wrapped her hands around his legs, pulling him closer, his pubes tickling her face as she struggled to swallow it all. She moaned against his throbbing member, desperate not to allow a single drop to exit the vacuum seal of her mouth. Rope after rope hit the back of her throat, she must have swallowed half-a-dozen times before she finally heard him sigh, the grip on the back of her head loosening.
"Mmmm, I'd say now we're even," she laughed, his deflated cock slipping from her mouth. She licked her lips clean, her gaze still pinned on the wet length that flopped against his leg. Even soft it looked impressive, making a thrill shoot through her core.
"I can't wait to see what happens next time," he said, slumping against the wall as Ashley made her way to her feet.
"We'll see if I let there be a next time." She adjusted her scrubs, still acutely aware of the throbbing between her legs. "See ya around..." she glanced at his name tag, then decided against it at the last minute. "Mr. Janitor."
Walking away, Ashley felt electricity in her veins. The encounter had been entirely her doing, her initiation, her rules. She wasn't scared of The Janitor, Clayton, even the FBI.
***
Jen played another round of Candy Crush, tapping her foot against her leg. It had been nearly an hour since Ashley went to make her rounds, far longer than it should have taken. The last time they'd worked together she'd disappeared too. She tried to dismiss the thought. She was probably just caught up talking to Mrs. Johnson. Those two seemed to have a strong connection.
Dave's words echoed in her memory: "Keep your eyes open at work. I bet you'll notice some signs."
"There's no way," Jen said to herself, attempting to dismiss the thought. But she was acting so odd lately. Even the way she talked about her anklet seemed off. After waiting a few more minutes, she pushed herself away from the desk, she would just take a quick lap and make sure everything was all right.
Mrs. Johnson's room was at the end of the hall, just around the corner. When Jen peeked through the small window in the door, she saw the elderly woman fast asleep, TV still flickering silently in the background. Jen's stomach dropped. If Ashley wasn't here, where could she be?
She remembered finding Ashley in the stairwell last time, flushed and disheveled. What had she been doing there alone? Dave had told her to look for signs, maybe this was one of them.
The elevator ride to the third floor felt endless. Jen wasn't entirely sure why Ashley would be on an abandoned floor under renovation, but something pulled her in that direction. Her palms grew sweaty as she pressed the button, heart racing with anticipation. What exactly was she hoping to find? If Dave was right about Ashley's arrangement with Chris, was there another man involved? It seemed risky to bring someone to the hospital, but then again, an empty floor under construction would provide privacy.
Was it someone they worked with? One of the on-call doctors? Jen couldn't stop her mind from spinning with possibilities as the elevator doors finally opened.
As expected, the floor looked like a ghost town. Jen walked the floor slow, peeking her head into the window of each room just to make sure there wasn't something she'd missed. She'd almost given up completely and turned around to check the stairwell when she heard the faintest noise at the other end of the hall. Excitement washed over her, along with a sense of angst as she inched closer to the source of the noise.
At the end of the hall she spotted the "Wet Floor" sign sitting just outside one of the rooms. Her body pulsed with nervous energy as she drew nearer.
She wouldn't... there has to be an explanation.
Her hands trembled as she looked through the glass, the voices all but gone. But what she saw, made her cover her mouth in shock.
Through the window, Ashley was on her knees, her back to the door as the maintenance man leaned against the wall, his overalls already half open. "What the..." Jen felt heat flood her face, unsure if she should stay or if she should leave.
Jen pressed her back against the hallway wall, heart hammering. She should leave. Mind her own business. Ashley was her friend, her colleague. But Dave's words echoed: "Keep your eyes open... I bet you'll notice some signs." He'd been right. About everything.
Despite every rational thought screaming at her to walk away, Jen found herself drawn back to the window.
"It did seem awful rude of me not to return the favor," she heard Ashley say. "After all, you were such a gentleman."
Return the favor? Had this happened before? Was that why Ashley kept disappearing when they worked together?
Jen's hand drifted to her chest, her heartbeat racing through her scrubs. She left it there, watching the scene before her unfold, her fingers gently squeezing her own chest. When had her nipples become so hard?
"You should have told me it was this impressive," Ashley purred on the other side of the window. "Maybe I would have done this sooner."
Jen found herself imagining what Ashley was seeing. Was he bigger than Dave? Her free hand slipped down to her hip, fingers splaying across the fabric of her scrubs as heat continued to build inside her.
Dave. She was suddenly imagining Ashley with him. Taking his meat into her mouth as Jen watched from the other side of the room. She bit her lip and rocked her hips as her fingers slid just under the waistband of her bottoms.
Maybe she could join Ashley. The two of them, working on her husband, their tongues meeting at the tip and sharing a salty kiss.
"Ahh," she breathed softly, her fingers finding the front of her panties already wet.
"Still think I need permission?" Ashley had sat back on her heels. Jen still couldn't get a good view of the tool in her hands, but given the way she was working it Jen could tell it was impressive.
She pressed her fingers harder into the wet fabric of her panties, her mouth opening in a silent moan as she felt the cloth push inside her. Her mind drifted to the fantasy of her birthday party. How far would things go? Would Dave actually fuck her?
"Oh God," her knees buckled, her fingers slipping inside her wet slit. Images of Dave between Ashley's legs filled her mind. Her free hand reached out, bracing herself on the closed door and causing it to rattle. In the quiet hallway, it sounded like a gunshot and Jen gasped spinning against the wall so she couldn't be seen from inside.
"Jesus Christ", came the sound from beyond the door. "You've turned into quite the cock sucker haven't you?" They hadn't heard her, thank God. Jen caught her breath, turning to look back into the room, her fingers now underneath her panties gently stroking her hard nub.
Dave was right. The thought sent another jolt through her core. She really is...
"Cum for me, big boy. Let me taste how bad you want it."
"Mmmffph," Jen tried to stifle another moan. Her thumb circled her clit faster as she imaged Ashley saying those same words to Dave. In her mind, Dave was fucking her from behind, his balls slapping against her wet lips as she begged Dave to cum.
She felt her walls squeezing her fingers, bringing her closer to the edge. Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of The Janitor's ragged breathing. He was going to cum too, she knew that noise well. Her eyes snapped shut again, visions of Dave fucking Ashley filling her head again. Only this time, Jen was under them, lapping the juices from Ashley's slit as Dave hammered into it.
Her fingers circled faster, her juices dripping onto her palm as she chewed on her lower lip. "Mmm fuck." Her moan wasn't more than a whisper, despite her need to cry out.
Jen pressed herself against the cool wall, her heart hammering as she fought to control her breathing. Through the window, she could see Ashley's head bobbing rhythmically, the janitor's hands gripping the wall behind him.
Through the glass, she watched Ashley's hands grip the janitor's thighs, pulling him deeper. The sight was simultaneously shocking and intoxicating. Sweet, professional Ashley, the friend she thought she knew better than anyone, was on her knees in a hospital room, begging a man far beneath her to cum in her mouth.
Jen's free hand pressed harder against the wall for support as her legs trembled. The fantasy shifted again: Ashley between her own thighs while Dave watched, that same eager tongue giving Jen unbridled pleasure.
The thought was enough to bring Jen to her breaking point. She could see The Janitor's body go stiff, Ashley's muffled moans filling her ears.
She didn't usually participate when she watched Dave with another woman, but right now that was the thought that was sending her crashing over a cliff.
"Ahhh. Oh ffff... Oh God," Jen slumped to the ground, her orgasm sent wave after wave of pleasure through her body. She kept her fingers buried inside her slit, her walls pulsed around her digits as she struggled to catch her breath. The fantasy felt so real, and caused her to completely forget about where she was.
"We'll see if I let there be a next time," she barely heard the words as she brought herself back to her feet. Panic settled in her chest. They must be done, which meant Ashley would be coming back out of the room any minute. She pushed herself off the wall, the elevator door closing just as the door at the end of the hall opened.
As the elevator descended, Jen leaned against the wall, her legs still shaky as she tried to process what she'd just seen. Dave had seen through it all, she couldn't believe it. She thought about texting him right away, but knew he'd just call asking questions she couldn't answer with Ashley near by.
The elevator descended past the second floor where patients were sleeping, normal people living normal lives. Nothing about tonight felt normal.
When the elevator dinged and the doors opened Jen stepped out looking just as normal as always, but she couldn't shake the image of Ashley on her knees, couldn't forget the hunger in her voice. She hurried back to the nurses station, glad to see Ashley hadn't beaten her back.
By the time Ashley returned fifteen minutes later, looking perfectly professional and composed, Jen had made her decision. The birthday party couldn't come soon enough.