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Chapter 1A
“And here we go” you thought to yourself. You took your headphones out of your ears, and smirked at your partner, Special Investigator Tayla Hughes. “Gross” she said. “Uh, the worst part of the job!” you feigned.
Let’s take a step back. Well, let’s just say you’re a cop. And for what feels like an eternity, your unit has been conducting 24/7 covert surveillance on this King Pin, let’s call him Fat Tony. He’s not physically fat, but his wallet is fat, the fattest in the city. And he’s probably broken every law imaginable.
So, here you are, sitting in an unmarked police car, being paid to surveil his whole life, every detail. And right now, it’s basically a porno in his office. You put your headphones back in and imagine this whore on her knees, tits out, under his desk, being turkey slapped by Fat Tony’s cock. You try not to enjoy it. You try to be disgusted. But your cock is throbbing, wishing you could give it the attention it needed. Or, better yet, maybe Tayla would reach over? No, you’re married, you think to yourself. And, Tayla, she deserves to feel respected in her workplace. But you couldn’t stop your mind wandering to the backdrop of this slut, now sucking and slurping, groaning and gasping. You turned to Tayla, to see if she’d noticed your horniness, your embarrassment. If she had, she did very well to hide it. And if she was turned on, she hid that too. But, how could she not be, you continued to think. Her pussy must be dripping, her nipples hard, wishing she could touch herself, or maybe wishing you would touch her. Or, did she want to be on her knees before this King Pin herself. No, perhaps she would have her head down and ass up, begging to be taken. Now you’d really crossed the line, you thought as you glanced again, this time looking at Tayla’s tits trying to try catch whether she was horny too.
You snapped out of your daydreaming when you heard the whore speak for the first time. It was somewhat muffled, but the words were distinct “Uh, my husband just does not compare” she exclaimed. That really sent you into overdrive. You could feel the pre-cum leaking out of your cock now. You were surprised at how turned on you were. You knew you weren’t satisfying your wife at home, but this really sexualised it. What was wrong with you, you thought, as you now visualised your wife in a way that matched the scene you were hearing. Your wife, on her knees, worshipping a cock double the size of yours.
“Paint me with your cum” she begged, “Mark me!” she gasped. All you heard was Fat Tony chuckling.
“Well, what a way to end the shift.” Tayla smirked back at you. “Mhm” you acknowledged. “I really feel sorry for the husband, do you think he knows?” She asked. You paused to think… “I mean, if she sounds like a slut, looks like a slut and quacks like a slut…” you replied. Tayla looked at you somewhat quizzically, before she saw the regret etched on your face. “What I meant was, he’d have to really love her” you corrected yourself. But there was no digging yourself out of this hole. “You idiot sexist pig” you thought to yourself.
5:08am, you saw on the bedside table as you crawled into bed. You gave your wife a peck on the cheek and tucked yourself in. “How was your shift?” she sheepishly asked, as she moved her hand down to your groin. Luckily, your pre-cum had time to dry while you’d travelled home. But, less fortunately, your horniness had not yet subsided. With only two short tugs, you’d spilled your load. “Baby!” She groaned. “I’m sorry” you exhaled. “It was, uh…” was all you could get out before she cut you off. “Nevermind”, as she rolled over
You dozed off to sleep, in a pool of your own embarrassment, thinking about the two disappointing pumps you could have had in your wife’s pussy.
Chapter 1B
“So” your wife started “we need to talk” she continued. You gulped. “The other night, well… to be honest… we both know you’ve not been up to the task for a while, but that was particularly embarrassing.” She didn’t even try to sugar coat it. You interjected “It was, uhh…” you stuttered. “Ok, it was Fat Tony. Well, not Fat Tony. But Fat Tony’s, uhhh, mistress. We were listening to them, and it turned me on a little. Honesty, right…?” You confessed. “Oh” your wife paused. “Oh, well, maybe tell me about it?” Surprised, you started with the turkey slap. “And that made you hard, huh, thinking about her pretty face and his big cock?” she asked as she started to touch herself.
She was getting off on this… your wife… she was thinking about Fat Tony’s cock. “Tell me more” she said. “Tell me about Fat Tony” she demanded, as she pulled reached under her skirt and pulled her panties to the side. You described him, he was strong, tall, Italian. She started to heave. You played into whatever this was and continued to tell the story. “And then, she said her husband just doesn’t compare” you began to embellish “she said her husband has a tiny little nub of a cock, she said he’s not allowed to have sex with her anymore.” You watched as your wife closed her eyes, clearly trying to visualise. You just didn’t know if she was trying to visualise Fat Tony, or the humiliated sexless husband. Well, the latter she didn’t have to imagine. That was right in front of her. She gripped your arm as she neared an orgasm. “Tell me” she panted “Tell me where Fat Tony came.” But you didn’t know, you’d have to make it up. You paused, eager to give your wife that one line that would send her over the edge. You lied “in her panties, coating the outside of her cunt, Fat Tony told her it was a gift for…” you paused as your wife moaned in ecstasy. As she came down from her climax, you finished the line “a gift for her husband.”
As she recovered, she glanced down at you, and then looked back up. The outline of your erection through your pants seemed to amuse her. But it also appeared to fuel her confidence. It was like your erection was a little tiny tick of approval.
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