08/19/2016 08:30 in interracial
Eric Collins - Eric is a 38 year old man. He is six feet tall and a 180 lbs. He wears his hair professionally short; both his eyes and his hair are brown. Eric is a teacher at a high school, where he spends most of his weekdays. Him and Sharon have been together since they were in high school themselves, almost twenty years.
Sharon Collins - Eric's wife. Sharon is two years younger, at the age of 36. She has a small figure, topping in at only 5'6" and 130 lbs. Her hair is naturally blonde and she wears it down to her shoulders. She has bright green eyes. Sharon is skinny, with B cups and a flat ass. Her and Eric had a daughter when she was 18, Carolyn, and have been together ever since.
Carolyn Collins - Eric and Sharon's daughter. She is eighteen years old and currently taking classes in real estate at a local college.
Arthur - Arthur is a career criminal. He was Eric's booky for nearly two years, although he partakes in many different enterprises. Arthur is 29 years old. He is an imposing figure, standing at 5'4" and 190 lbs. He is in good shape, if not completely muscular. His black hair is buzzed down to a medium length, and his most notable feature are his piercingly blue eyes.
Chapter 3 -
Eric stared down at his plate, the food only half eaten. It wasn't that his wife hadn't made a good dinner, as always she had. No, the problem wasn't the cooking, the problem was that it was Friday. It had been exactly one week since Arthur had forced himself upon Eric's wife. He had maintained their Friday dinner plans, and it so far it had been a complete mockery of the others.
Arthur insisted on keeping up small talk. Sharon no longer gleefully joined in though, now she was taciturn, each reply remorseful. Eric didn't fume quietly, wishing for the dinner to end. Instead, he found himself speaking more, if only to prolong the inevitable. Most noticeably though, Arthur had bought his wife something to wear, much as he had done on that first dinner of theirs. It wasn't a nice dress this time though, instead, Arthur had purchased Eric's wife lingerie. She sat at the dinner table in a black and red bra that pushed her breasts up, and a pair of black, lace panties which tapered down to mere strings at her hips. Oddly enough, there hadn't been a fight over whether or not she should where them to the dinner. When they had opened that box the night before, they had both known that she would.
"Well that was an absolutely delicious meal Sharon.", Arthur said. "What dressing was that on the salad by the way? It tasted like Caesar, only different."
"It was uh, Mexican Caesar.", she quietly replied. "Like normal Caesar I guess, but with cilantro."
"I'll have to pick some of that up myself. What about you Eric how did you like the dinner your wife made us?"
"It was good. Great job honey." The compliment was deflated, almost resigned.
"Sharon, how about you come suck my dick now."
She started at the bluntness of his demand. Eric's fist clenched around his fork at Arthur's sheer audacity, that he would feel entitled to just demand that of her.
No one spoke out against him though.
Sharon obediently got out of her chair and knelt down in front of Arthur, who was now standing. She fumbled with his belt, before pulling his pants down around his ankles, releasing his semi-erect cock to bounce in front of her face. Sharon stared at it for a second, mentally accepting what she was about to do, before taking it into her mouth.
"Now Sharon, I don't mean to be critical, but the last time you blew me it wasn't exactly the best blowjob I'd ever received. I know, it was new, and you were nervous, especially since your husband was watching, but I expect you to step up your game."
Sharon's response was delayed, but she began to suck on the head of his cock, flicking the sensitive underside with her tongue. Then she would change it up, and began moving her head farther down his shaft, taking it deeper and deeper into her mouth. She would lock her lips around him as she moved down, then drag her tongue along his cock as she pulled it back. Her tongue circled around his tip before she plunged once more down his length.
"Oh shit Eric, your wife really knows what she's doing down there. She's using her tongue and everything." Both Eric and Sharon pretended like he hadn't said anything.
Arthur began to stroke her hair as she continued to suck him off. He let this go on for a little, enjoying the feeling of her mouth on his cock, of her tongue working around his length. Then, he gently pulled her head off.
"Lean your head back Sharon." She obliged, tilting her head back and opening her mouth. Arthur then took a small step closer, and lowered his balls into her mouth. Sharon closed her lips around his sack and gently began to suck on it. Arthur smiled, letting Eric know he liked the feeling of Sharon tonguing his balls.
"Sharon, can you deepthroat?" he asked.
A small delay, then, "Mhmm". Her reply was muffled by the nutsack in her mouth.
"Show me." Arthur demanded.
She released Arthur's balls from her mouth, and replaced them with his cock. Her head began moving up and down, taking more and more into her each time. At a little more than halfway down, Arthur could feel himself hitting the back of her throat. Sharon put her hands on his upper legs for support, and then slowly began to take him down her throat. She would pause, hold his dick inside of her, then come off of him to breathe before returning. Each time she would get him a little deeper down. She struggled with the last inch, and some tears welled in her eyes as she fought to hold her breath, but with sudden force she managed to get his whole length into her mouth. When she came up for air, she was gasping.
She went to put him back in, but he stayed her, placing a hand on the back of her head. Instead, he pushed his cock into her mouth himself. Holding her head still, he began to thrust into her.
Eric sat down at his dinner table, watching his wife get face fucked. Arthur had even been thoughtful enough this time to make sure Eric was facing his side, so that he could watch Arthur's dick disappear between Sharon's lips, and watch her face as she sucked him off. The sound of her deepthroating Arthur's cock echoed through the otherwise silent house, the slurping sound as he pulled out, the muted grunts as he slammed back in. If Eric had looked away, which for some reason he didn't seem to want to, and even if he had left the room entirely, which he got the impression he wasn't allowed to, he couldn't have escaped what was happening to his wife.
He remembered back to last Friday, when Arthur had first made his move on Sharon. After he had left, leaving the couple in complete disarray, it had been some time before Sharon had gotten off her knees. Her face had been a mess; her eyes were hooded, her hair strewn about, and there had been a small bit of cum caked onto her lower lip.
He hadn't known what to say back. After all, what was there to say? He had simply walked over to her, and embraced her. It took a moment, but she leaned into it, resting her head on his chest.
"Just tell me...", she had asked. "Just...tell me it was worth it."
"It was worth it." It had felt wrong to say that. Even if it had been worth it, it wasn't fair that she was the one paying the price, and yet here he was justifying it. It had been what she needed to hear though, so he had swallowed any qualms.
"I don't want to know any specifics." she continued. "I...can't. Not yet at least. I just need you to promise me that this is necessary. If you say it is, then I trust you."
In response he held her more tightly, protectively resting his hand on the back of her head. He held her like that for some time before he said anything again. "I'm sorry Sharon. I love you."
"I love you too." she whispered back.
After that she had been exhausted and had went off to bed. Eric didn't follow though. He wasn't going to sleep that night.
Eric was brought to when he noticed that the sounds of Arthur face fucking his wife had stopped. Arthur was helping her stand back up, but didn't let go of her hand when she regained her footing. Her hair, normally straight, blonde, and beautiful, was tangled where Arthur had been grabbing onto it. Her face, cute and round, had spit dribbling down her chin.
"Come with me," Arthur said. He began to lead Sharon back further into the house, then stopped and turned to Eric. "That means you too."
Eric didn't want to. God, did he not want to. Making a scene though, forcing Arthur to up the ante, wasn't going to help Sharon. Instead of resisting, Eric simply followed after them.
Arthur led Sharon by hand over to the couple's bedroom. "Take a seat Eric." he said, motioning to a chair in the corner of the room. He then went to stand behind Sharon, and in a quick motion undid her lingerie's bra, letting it fall unceremoniously onto the floor. He reached around, and lightly took one of her breasts into his hand. His other hand went to her hip, and he slid a couple of fingers between her skin and her panties. He began to gently play with her nipple, while his fingers traced the lines of her hip.
Slowly, he slid his hand around until it was on her lower stomach, then slid it further down onto her mound as he cupped her breast. His fingers trailing, he continued pushing his hand down until it finally arrived at her sex. He gingerly stroked the outside, applying pressure to her clit as he did. Finally he hooked his thumb into the side of her panties and pulled them down, leaving her fully exposed.
"Lay down on the bed." Sharon complied. Arthur sat down in the only other chair in the room before continuing. "Now, masturbate."
A quizzical look crossed her face, but seeing that he wasn't going to add anything else, she placed her hand down between her legs. She began rubbing a finger against her slit, trailing it up and down. Then, the finger disappeared as she slipped it inside of herself. Sharon sat there, pushing her finger in and out.
"You can do better than that." Arthur chided. Sharon grimaced slightly, then pushed a second finger in with the first. She let herself acclimate to the second finger for a little, then a third joined them. A slick sound now began to be made as she fingered herself. She closed her eyes, and Eric noticed her face starting to turn a little red. Her palm began to press down on her clit each time she pushed her fingers in and he was surprised to see her pushing her pubis up, almost imperceptibly, to meet the friction.
Arthur let her continue to masturbate for several minutes, his eyes trained on her spread legs and the fingers darting between them, before he stood up and took the rest of his clothes off. He climbed onto the bed and positioned himself over Sharon. One of his hands reached down and took the place of hers, his fingers slipping inside her. She was wet; not soaking by any means, but it was enough.
He leaned down and kissed Sharon. Knowing what was expected, her lips parted as his tongue entered her mouth. He swirled it around her own and, after a somewhat forceful squeeze of her arm, she reciprocated, if with some reluctance. Without breaking the kiss, Arthur removed his hand from between her legs and positioned his cock in front of her entrance. In one fluid motion, he was inside her.
A throaty sound of surprise passed between their interlocked lips as Sharon felt him fill her up. Arthur responded with a low moan. He slowly worked his way in and out of her, feeling the warm, slick sensation of her enveloping his dick. He would push up tight against her, hold for a second, then slowly draw himself out almost to the tip, before repeating. Arthur began to pick up speed, pushing himself in and out faster. Before long he was pounding her, each thrust met with a meaty slap. He watched her small tits jiggle with the impact, wrapping his arms under her shoulders for purchase.
Arthur slowed his rhythm down, then pulled out and lied down next to her. "I want you to ride me." he told her. Obediently, Sharon got up and moved to his lap. "The other way.", he corrected her. Sharon looked at him, her eyes pleading. She found no softening in Arthur's expression though, and so she turned around to face Eric.
The two locked eyes as Arthur aligned himself with her opening. Looking at her husband, Sharon lowered herself down onto Arthur's cock. She struggled to find a rhythm at first, but soon she was bouncing up and down on Arthur's dick. Sharon couldn't bear to look at her husband, to have him see her like this. She let her eyes close, lowering her head to avoid his gaze.
Arthur watched her ass moving up and down, watched as she brought him in and out of her pussy, riding him. Her lips were spread open, wrapped around his shaft, and the angle she was leaning forward at gave him the perfect view of her opening. Her flat ass didn't hide her asshole, which twitched each time she thudded down onto his length.
Eric too was watching, looking between his wives legs at the place where Arthur's cock disappeared into her. Watching his wife ride another man was painful. Why was he hard then? Why couldn't he look away? Sharon's face was scrunched up in shame. What was his face like? He had a sickly suspicion that it was a cross between worry...and leering. His eyes tracked upward, to Sharon's breasts, which would jiggle each time she descended onto Arthur's cock.
Just then, Arthur grabbed onto Sharon's hips and held her halfway down his length. He began thrusting up into her, quickly, each thrust resulting in a slap as their two sexes met. Moans began to escape his lips before he slammed her down onto him and held her there. Sharon felt a warmth leak out of her, around Arthur's cock, as he emptied his cum into her.
Arthur let go, allowing Sharon to get up off of him. His dick made a sloppy, sucking sound as it left her, a thin spindle of cum connected her opening and the head of his dick. "I'm sorry, I've gone and made a mess." he said. "Sharon, would you mind cleaning me off?"
She knelt down on the bed in front of him, slipping his mostly hard dick into her mouth. She could taste herself on him as she used her tongue to slurp up the drop of cum still on his tip. She bobbed her head down further onto him, applying pressure with her tongue to work out anything still left inside, before swirling it around his shaft to make sure the job was done.
Arthur made a sound of contentment before he said "Eric, your wife does a great job of following orders. She's really making sure I'm all clean down there."
Hunched over Arthur's crotch as she was, Eric had a straight on view of Sharon. Her ass was raised up into the air, her position spreading her ass cheeks to reveal her asshole and below it her pussy. A small amount of cum was beginning to well up at her entrance and slowly leak out of her. Eric wanted to stand up and take her right then, to pound into her like Arthur had just done. But he couldn't. Cursing silently, he chastised himself for even thinking that. Sharon was going through...well, what she was going through, and here he was thinking about fucking her. How could he do that? What kind of husband was he?
When Sharon was finished, she sat up and looked at Arthur. He gave her a nod and she quickly got off the bed, raced to her closet, and donned a bathrobe. Arthur laughed at that. "What, modesty? Both of the other people in this room have been inside of you dear." He stood up himself and began putting his clothes back on.
Eric tracked him across the room. Now that the action was over his head was a little clearer. Rage was beginning to find purchase among his emotional turmoil. Arthur was off his guard now. Eric could just get behind him and...and what? Eric's rage died down as it gave way to impotence. He wasn't a fighter. Arthur could probably kick his ass any day, even if Eric got in a sucker punch. He could try and hit Arthur with something, but then what? If he did that he would have to end it right here, right now, in this room. If he didn't Arthur would come back tenfold. Lets say he did manage to do it. He'd be facing murder charges. Maybe a jury wouldn't convict him, the situations were certainly extenuating. Unlikely though. Besides, the fact of the matter was, Eric didn't have it in him. He just wasn't a violent man.
When Arthur was finished getting dressed he walked over to Sharon and wrapped his arm around her waist. Pulling her in, his lips found hers, his tongue delving deep into her mouth as he embraced her. "You were wonderful." he told her. Sharon found herself taken aback by the sincerity in his eyes.
"If uh...if you need it," Arthur continued, "there's some Plan B on the counter. If you're not on birth control, I would fix that." He kissed her one last time, nodded goodbye to Eric, then left.
"I'm fine. I just want to sleep." She looked over at the bed, at the tangle of sheets and blankets where she and Arthur had just fucked. "I'll be on the couch. Goodnight Eric." With that she left the room.
Eric sighed. What had he gotten himself into? No, what had he gotten Sharon into? What was happening to them? There was time to think on the big questions. For now, he filled his mind with more menial affairs, easier things to deal with. He took the sheets off the bed and put them in the washer, then grabbed a blanket for himself from the garage. On his way back to the bedroom he stopped to look at Sharon. Now that she was asleep she seemed peaceful. She was just as beautiful as she ever was. She hadn't bothered putting anything but the robe on, and it had parted, giving him a partial view of her naked body. Once more he had to resist the urge to go over and fuck her. He wanted her so badly.
He let the thought go though and walked back to their bedroom. He spread the blanket over the mattress, laid down, and tried to go to sleep. The one thing he remembered thinking before he passed out was that he knew, absolutely, that he still loved Sharon as much as ever before.
* * * *
Eric had to get this homework graded. He had promised his students that they would get it back before the quiz tomorrow. He'd had them turn it in on Monday and here he was on Tuesday still staring at the untouched pile. The problem wasn't just the boredom that always accompanied grading. These days, he was finding it harder and harder to concentrate. He felt exhausted all the time. The stress that now dominated his life made it almost impossible to get any work done.
Thoughts of Sharon, or Arthur, just would not leave him alone. The picture of his wife bouncing up and down on Arthur's cock, of her pushing her face into his crotch, of her masturbating for him...they were seared into his mind. The emotions they raised weren't simple either. Anger, of course, was well represented. Guilt was there too. Sharon was paying for his mistakes, after all. Helplessness underlined it all, his complete inability to do anything about it. Coursing through all of this though was arousal. He couldn't deny it. Seeing his wife treated like that, watching her do those things...there was something erotic about it. And that brought him to the last emotion: self-loathing.
Countless times each day he would cycle through this emotional merry-go-round: anger, guilt, helplessness, arousal, self-loathing. It was more than he could take. It was beating him down. He felt like he was simply floating through his life, as if he were detached from everything around him. He didn't know how he'd keep living like this.
A month ago, Sharon would have been how he'd cope. That wasn't really an option now though. That first night that it really started, the first time she had sucked Arthur off, things had been different. Even after what had happened she had relied on him for strength. She had come to him for support, for affection. As time went on though she was becoming more distant.
It wasn't just physical distance, although all sex had stopped completely since then. It's not like he could blame her. Being used by Arthur had to be causing turmoil inside of her. How could she be expected to compartmentalize her sex with Arthur from her sex with him? The two of them having sex would almost certainly bring back the memories of what she and Arthur had done together. Still, Eric missed being close to her like that. Ever since that night, they hadn't so much as kissed. A few embraces, sure, but that wasn't the same.
She was growing more emotionally distant as well. Maybe it was a defense mechanism. Maybe she was just closing herself off to the world and not necessarily to him in particular. There had been a definite change though. She didn't confide in him, or turn to him for support, or really come to him with anything. There was a gulf between them and it was growing.
Sharon had said she didn't want to know details, that if Eric told her it was necessary then she would trust him. Did she though? What if the reason she didn't want to know more is because, deep down, she felt like it was probably his fault? Things were hard enough, the last thing she could take would be losing the man that was supposed to always be by her side. If that were the case, she could be distancing herself in preparation for when she finally learned that it was, in fact, Eric's fault. It would make it easier to accept, to cut off ties with him, if she had spent some time growing apart.
That was one of the worst thoughts Eric had ever had. The idea of losing Sharon was unacceptable. She meant everything to him. Short of perhaps his daughter, there wasn't another person alive who was as important. There wasn't even anyone close. Without her, he'd be lost. What would he do? Who would he be? Sharon was such a cornerstone of his life, and had been for so long, that he couldn't even think of what his identity would be if she left him.
Just then, Eric's phone vibrated in his pocket. Speak of the devil, it was Sharon calling. The class was working amongst themselves, so he decided to take it. Besides, he really wanted to hear her voice.
"Hey honey. I was wondering if - ugh - you could pick up some - ugh - eggs on your way home?"
"Sure. Is that all you called about?"
"Well I - ugh - just needed some more eggs - ugh - for dinner."
"Sharon? Is everything all right over there?"
"Yeah everything is - ugh - fine." There was a pause then, and some muttering in the background. "Arthur is just - ugh - fucking me right now."
"Oh. I see." Eric suddenly felt cold. He could hear it now, the rhythmic slapping, echoing over the line.
There was a pause before she continued. "He's got me - ugh - bent over that chair in our living room. The - ugh - nice one. He's fucking me - ugh - from behind right now."
Eric was at a loss for words. "I'll just...let you get back to that then..."
"Wait! Arthur was really clear - ugh - that I can't let you hang up until I - ugh - finish him off."
"Please Eric - ugh - ..."
Eric stopped and looked around his classroom. The students were all talking amongst themselves, supposedly working together on their in-class assignment. None of them were paying any attention to him.
Still, he wanted to hang up. He didn't want to sit there and listen to this. The somewhat faint sounds of Arthur fucking his wife, the slap as their crotches met, the grunts of impact from Sharon, punctuated his thoughts.
It occurred to him that he had no idea what exactly, other than the obvious, was going on over there. She was pleading with him to stay on the line. He could only assume there was a good reason. If sitting there and listening to this would help her, or at least minimize how much she was hurt, then what choice did he have but to do it?
"Ok." he told her.
"Arthur apologizes. He says it - ugh - shouldn't take too long. I've - ugh - gotten him pretty close."
Eric was silent. He sat there listening to the two of them fuck for a few more seconds before he heard some more muttering.
"He says he - ugh - wants you to know that - ugh - my pussy is very tight. That - ugh - you picked a good wife."
Eric was on the verge of crying. He looked up from his desk to check the room once more, but none of the students seemed to have noticed his call or the effect it was having on him.
"We're doing something different now. He's moving me off the chair and pushing me onto my knees. I'm going to start - ". The rest of Sharon's sentence was cut off, her words coming out only as mumbled, guttural noises. A slurping sound was coming through the call now. When it stopped, he could hear Sharon take a deep breath, before she continued, "- sucking him off."
The slurping started up again. Thanks to Arthur, this wasn't the first time that Eric had heard the sounds of his wife sucking off another man. The other times though, he had been there, watching it happen. There was something worse about hearing it over the phone. At least then he had been...included. Now though, his wife was doing it without him even there. He wasn't involved at all. The message from Arthur was clear: I don't need your permission. I'll take her whenever I feel like it.
"Oooi uvv oo." Sharon's muffled words snapped him back to what was happening on the other end of the line. There was a pause, some more muttering, and he was pretty sure he heard Arthur say something forcefully to her. When she finally spoke again, her tone was flat. "I'm sorry honey, you probably couldn't hear me because of the cock in my mouth. I said I love you."
The squelching noises began again almost instantly, and Sharon would make a grunting sound in between each one. Eric had a pretty good idea of what was going on. Arthur was probably pounding into her mouth right now.
Sharon was gasping for breath. "He says he's close, I'm going to finish him off onto my face now." Eric could hear the distinct sound of someone jerking off. The vivid picture of his wife appeared in his mind: on her knees in front of Arthur, her head tilted back with her mouth open, working his dick. He shook his head to get it out but it wouldn't leave.
The jerking slowed and there was a very faint series of splats.
"We're done now. I'll see you when you get home." And then she hung up.
A few seconds later his phone buzzed again. Was she calling back? No, she was just sending a text. He opened it up and was met with a picture of Sharon's face. A large rope of cum had landed on it, trailing from her eye down across her nose. There was also a large blob of cum on her lips, and some of it was beginning to drip down and off of her chin. A few small strands had even managed to get caught up in her hair.
Eric was furious. Forcing her to blow him was awful in and of itself but making her narrate it to her husband? To send him a picture of her cum drenched face? He was going to kill Arthur the next time he saw him.
Just like that though the guilt was back. If he was going to be angry at Arthur he would have to admit that he deserved to be angry at himself just as much. It was his fault that his wife was doing it and it was his fault that there was nothing he could do to stop it. Kill Arthur? There was no way he had it in him. His wife was miles away, in their family's living room, being plowed. Eric was here, in the classroom.
For the first time, Eric noticed that at some point during the ordeal he'd gotten hard. The image of Sharon bent over the chair, Arthur pulling her arms back behind her, slamming into her, popped up into his mind. It was followed by the picture of her quickly jerking him off, his dick still wet from her blow job. He could see it as she brought Arthur to climax, leaning her head back to await the ropes of his cum that would follow.
What was wrong with him? He was every bit as bad as Arthur. He had an equal share of the blame in creating the situation, and just like Arthur, he was turned on by it. Kill Arthur? Maybe he should just kill himself.
After that, Eric couldn't remember anything about the day. None of it stuck. He dreaded going home; he had no idea what he would say to Sharon when he saw her again. Instead, he worked as late as he could justify. He managed to get that homework graded. Afterward he stopped by a sports bar, watched some game that he had no interest in, and drank. When he got home, he was finally forced to think of what he would do when he saw her. He had nothing. Eric needn't have worried though, because by the time he walked into the house she was already asleep on the couch.
* * * *
When Eric got home on Wednesday, all he wanted to do was sit down and stare absent-mindedly at the television. Unfortunately for him, the couch was taken; Arthur was sprawled out over it. Sharon was sitting in the recliner opposite him. Eric stopped to take a look. He wasn't used to Arthur being in his house without, well, having sex with Sharon. His confusion was compounded when a man he'd never met crossed out of the kitchen and down the hallway opposite.
"Who the hell was that?" Eric asked.
"Him? That was Juan. My security guy." Arthur replied.
"Security? Are we in some kind of danger?" There was a hint of real alarm in Eric's voice. He had no idea what businesses Arthur was involved in outside of gambling but he knew they were the kind that came with inherent risks. It was possible that somehow Eric's family had gotten dragged into that.
"No, no. Nothing like that. You're both perfectly safe. I only called him in because he's good with cameras."
"You really like doing that don't you."
"Answering questions while trying to confuse people even more. Why in the hell are you installing cameras in my house." It took just about as much composure as Eric could muster to keep his voice as level as it was.
"Well I mean, it would be really difficult to enforce the rules without them." Arthur took a small pause, then added "Alright, now I see what you mean about how I answer questions."
"So why don't you just get out with it and explain how you're trying to fuck us this time." Eric winced at his own poor choice of words.
"I will, but first, you've just come home and you haven't even said hello to your wife yet."
Eric swallowed. Arthur wasn't wrong. In his anger he'd been made to look like he was the asshole. "Hey Sharon. How was your day?"
"Uneventful. How was class?"
"Tedious. As usual."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
The conversation between the couple died then, and Arthur let the silence stretch on just long enough to be uncomfortable before he said, "Well ok then, now that we're all caught up on our days I have some things to talk about. Eric, why don't you take a seat. Good. There are a few rules I am instituting and, as I said earlier, the cameras are here to ensure they are followed. Sharon, most of these rules apply to you, but Eric some concern you as well. You are not to interrupt me until I am finished. Any concerns you have can be raised then. Agreed?" Sharon nodded, and after a moment Eric gave his word too.
"Now," Arthur continued, "the first rule is dress code. Sharon, I expect you to apply makeup every day, as well as to style your hair. The choices on these are up to you. You may do whatever you think makes you look best. As far as clothing goes, you are to be naked whenever you are home. The exception is, of course, if company is over. When you leave the house, you are not permitted to wear any underwear, including bras. You will wear a skirt, a dress, or an extremely short pair of shorts. Within those confines how you dress is your decision to make.
"The second rule is that, Sharon, you are always to refer to me as 'Sir'. Eric, you are allowed to call me 'Sir' if you so choose but I will also respond to 'Arthur'.
"The third rule concerns masturbation. Sharon, you are to masturbate at least once a week. You will bring yourself to climax when you do. Eric, you are not to masturbate whatsoever. Should you find yourself needing a sexual release, raise the issue with me and I will find a suitable solution.
"The fourth rule applies only to Sharon. Whenever you finish a man off, including me, you are to notify your husband. A call, picture message, even a text. Whatever works for you.
"That brings us to the fifth and final rule. From this point on, there is to be no intimate contact between the two of you. There are exceptions. You may kiss, but without tongue. You may hug, embrace, or spoon as you want to. All other more intimate forms of contact are strictly forbidden.
"That is it. Those are my rules. Only five, so not that hard to manage."
Eric spent a moment fuming. "Just who the fuck do you think you are? Telling us what we can wear in our own house, what we can do with our own bodies, with each other? We aren't going to - "
"Yes you are." Arthur cut in. "You know exactly why you will too, so I'm not interested in having this fight. Sharon, do you understand the rules?" When he asked her this, Arthur did not break eye contact from Eric, who was trying his best to hold up under the stare.
Sharon took her time before she responded. "Yes...Sir."
Hearing her say that deflated any sense of resistance Eric might have been clinging on to. His shoulders slumped back down, his gaze fell.
"Good. Thank you Sharon. Eric, what about you? Will you follow the rules?"
"Yeah." In his tone, complete defeat.
"I'm sorry, I know all you must have wanted to do when you got home was relax, and instead you find someone doing work on your house. I have a way to make it up to you though. You know Indigo Park right? Just down the road a ways? I want you to go there. In the bathrooms, go to the second to last stall. You'll find something there. You are to use it - oh don't give me that look, you'll like it, honestly - and after you are done, I want you to go over to the last stall. It's a really weird set of instructions, I know, but I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."
Eric looked over at Sharon. She met his gaze and simply shrugged her shoulders. Sighing, Eric took his keys back off the counter. "I'll see you tonight then Sharon. Bye." He didn't wait for her to say goodbye back before he shut the door behind him.
It wasn't a long drive to Indigo Park. Five, maybe ten minutes down the side streets. He had no idea what Arthur had in mind but did it really matter anymore? He had lost. He made the drive in silence.
When he got to the park he got out of the car and started making his way to the bathrooms. The park was large, boasting two baseball diamonds, a basketball court, a field, and a playground for the younger kids. He had only gotten home in the late afternoon so the park was still populated. Kids screamed as they played on the jungle gym, families strolled by as they enjoyed the weather, men yelled at each other in their pickup basketball game. As large as it was though it only had one bathroom. He came to it and, after taking a quick moment to enjoy the fresh air, walked inside.
They were poorly maintained to say the least. The reek of sewage and refuse washed over him almost immediately. The concrete floors were damp and puddles had formed in the floor's uneven surface. The drain they had installed in the center of the floor was not doing its job. Cheap, blue, plastic stalls lined the right side of the bathroom and a single large urinal lined the right. Only a few stall doors were shut, but from what he could tell they were empty. He went into the one second from last.
After he shut the door behind him the smell got worse, the humid air was doing it no favors. The stall itself wasn't pleasant either. Toilet paper was strewn over the floor. Crude writing had been etched into the walls. On the wall facing away from the entrance, a small hole had been cut at waist height.
A foot tapped twice on the other side of it. Was this what Arthur had meant? It had to be. There was nothing else in the stall. Eric suddenly felt the need to know who was on the other side of the wall. Was it his wife? Had Arthur set her up here? No, he was an idiot, his wife was at home. He'd just seen her. A man then? Was Arthur trying to humiliate Eric? It was possible he guessed, but unlikely. It didn't seem like his style. If Arthur was going to embarrass him like that it would be with something he had gotten Eric to knowingly choose.
The foot tapped again.
Eric had to decide. He could just leave now, but somehow he knew that Arthur would find out he hadn't gone through with it. If this really was supposed to be just a gift, a really strange gift, then it was within Eric's rights to turn it down. It was never that simple with Arthur though. Plus, if Eric was honest with himself, he was horny as hell. Sex had come to dominate his life recently and he hadn't been involved in any of it. Added to that was the fact that he apparently wasn't even allowed to take care of himself anymore.
Eric shook his head, not really believing he was about to do it, and then tapped his own foot twice. He undid his pants and to his surprise he was already starting to get hard. Gingerly, he slid his dick through the hole and into the other stall.
A warm mouth engulfed his mostly flacid cock. The person's tongue massaged it as they applied gentle sucking. Eric's dick quickly started to grow harder, filling up the mouth that surrounded it. As it grew to its full length they were forced to let some of it out.
Now they were focusing on just his tip. The lips gripped it tightly as the tongue swirled around it. They would take breaks to gently flick his urethra before they resumed tongue bathing his head. A hand reached up and started to work the shaft slowly.
Eric let out a low moan and grabbed the top of the stall for support. He pressed his crotch further against the wall, pushing more of himself through the opening and into the waiting mouth. Taking it as a hint, they began to slowly bob up and down. Their lips sealed tightly against his shaft, as whoever it was engulfed the first half of his dick. Eric closed his eyes and leaned his head back, enjoying the feeling. Their mouth was warm and moist. Their tongue provided friction along the bottom, and their lips worked, gently applying pressure and releasing in cycles, as they moved up and down.
His dick was released from their mouth. He was disappointed, but not for long, as he suddenly felt them licking up and down his shaft. When they got to his head, they would plop it in their mouth, briefly using their tongue to toy with it, before they started licking their way back down to his base.
Whoever that was on the other side of the wall, they knew what they were doing. Eric was losing his mind. Each time they sucked on his tip it would bring him closer to his climax. Just as he was really starting to enjoy it though they'd resume the licking. It felt good, but it denied him the release that he really wanted.
Just then footsteps sounded from the entrance to the bathroom. The tongue on the other side of the wall stopped licking him. Instead, a hand reached up and slowly began to stroke him. Not enough to get him closer to cumming, but enough to maintain his excitement. He wanted to barge out of the stall, go over, and start slamming into whoever was doing this to him. He was so close, but they just wouldn't bring him to where he wanted to be. His precum was starting to drip, and the hand stroking him would slide a finger to collect it and use it to lubricate his hand job. More would follow; Eric needed a release.
Thankfully, the man had finished and Eric could hear his footsteps as he left the bathroom. The mouth in the other stall pounced, instantly wrapping itself around Eric's rock hard dick. It was moving fast now, quickly sliding up and down his length. It was if all of the energy they had bottled up in order to not be caught was now being released all at once. Eric couldn't help himself, he moaned, and his dick started twitching as he felt his orgasm coming on.
The person must have known what that meant as they released him from their mouth. The hand resumed jerking him off, but quickly this time. Their tongue darted across and around his head, and Eric was fairly certain that meant they had opened their mouth to take his load.
At last, Eric had the release he wanted. With a grunt, and one final push against the stall, he unloaded his cum onto whoever's face was there to catch it. He couldn't see it but he knew he had spent a lot of seed. It had been a while since his last climax and he had been horny for a week straight. He could feel rope after rope shoot out of his twitching dick onto the awaiting tongue and face of the stranger. His head felt light, his ears were ringing.
There was an audible swallow from the other stall. It was followed by the tongue returning to his dick as it gently lapped up the cum that was left there. A few final, quick licks up and down his length finished the cleaning. The mouth withdrew from his deflating cock after that.
Still gasping Eric pulled back from the wall and zipped up his pants. That was something he had never thought he would do. Arthur had been right though, he was surprised at how much he had liked it. That had been one of the best blow jobs he had ever gotten. Admittedly, the only woman he had ever slept with was Sharon, but still. The excitement of doing it in public, of maybe being caught, certainly had helped. Not to mention the mystery of not knowing who was on the other side, of knowing they didn't know who you were either.
Eric opened up the stall door and started to leave the bathroom. He stopped after a few steps and turned to look warily at that final stall. The door was still shut. He had remembered something: Arthur had told him that when he was done, he was to go into that final stall. His stomach did somersaults. Who was in there? Whoever it was, Arthur wanted him to know it, and whatever his reasons were Eric couldn't believe that they were in any way altruistic. Frankly, he didn't want to know. Whatever Arthur had planned for him behind that door was nothing he would like.
If he didn't do it though, Arthur would know. He would say something like 'How was the surprise?', Eric would have no idea what the suitable response was, and the gig would be up. Then Arthur would be forced to double down on whatever horrible experience he had originally planned for Eric and things would only be worse.
Every step was heavy as Eric walked over to the last stall door. He stopped in front of it, raised his hand, and knocked. The sound echoed through the empty, concrete room. There was a faint shuffle of clothing on the other side of the door, followed by a click as the lock was undone. Eric edged the door open and there, kneeling on the piss soaked floor, was his student, the one he had slept with for Arthur, Sarah.
Eric was at a loss for words. He could still see the wet ropes of his cum on her face, draped across her lips, nose, and eyes. She had been wearing mascara, but it had started to run in all of the cum (and possibly tears, he realized with horror). It wasn't just his own cum though. Older, more dried strands could be seen crisscrossing her youthful face. Globs of it had dried in her long, auburn hair leaving it hopelessly tangled. Her blouse was stained where some of it had fallen out of her mouth to dribble down off her chin. Eric had no idea how many men she must have sucked off in this stall to have become such a mess.
"Mr. Collins?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"
His mind raced for an answer. He couldn't tell this girl that he had pretty much only come over so she could suck his dick. He hadn't known that was what he was here for, but still, it wasn't an option. "I'm just, at the park. What...what are you doing here Sarah."
He could see her going through what he had just been. The difference was, there was clearly no way to deny that what she was doing here was blowing strangers in the bathroom. Her face fell to shame and she opted to not answer at all. Sarah averted her gaze and hiked her shirt up in a pitiful display of modesty. She reached down for her glasses. When she put them on though she realized that a drop of cum had landed on the lenses at some point. She took them off, spit on them, washed them off, then put them back on again. Crouched down on the floor like she was, with her mousy frame, she looked pitiful.
"Sarah, stand up from there." She took his hand and stood up, but made no effort to wipe his jizz off of her face. From the look of it, she had decided that cleaning cum off of herself was a losing battle.
"I have a question to ask you." Eric said. "Is the reason you're here...did someone tell you to do this? Blackmail you into it?"
She opened her mouth, but closed it without talking. After a second of thinking, all she offered was, "I can't say."
"The person who did it, were they a man? Short black hair, blue eyes, tall?"
"I...I don't know. I only ever talked to him over the phone. Why are you asking me this?"
Eric hesitated. He wanted her to trust him, so that maybe he could help her, and telling her the truth would certainly go a long way towards that. Nonetheless, his situation was a little much to unload on someone, and if he was honest with himself, far too embarrassing to be shared in its entirety. "The man who did this to you, I'm pretty certain I know who he is. I know, because he's...doing something similar to me. What does he have on you?"
"At first...it was a video. Of you and me. In your office." Eric's teeth clenched down painfully tight. He had done it again. First his wife, now Sarah. He had delivered her on a silver platter for Arthur to abuse. This was his fault. His fault.
Thinking back to that video, he remembered that Sarah hadn't been that good at blow jobs when he was last with her. With a chill, he realized that someone must have...trained her. How many men had she gone down on? How many men had Arthur made her service? If he could force her to kneel down in this decrepit, disgusting stall and soak herself in the cum of strangers, what else had he made her do?
Sarah continued, "But he destroyed that. In return for..." She looked up at him then, before flicking her eyes away, "well it doesn't matter. The other thing he did for me was set me up for college. He knows the dean at my number one. I'm getting in. Guaranteed. I just have to...make it through until I leave. That's it. I do that, and the rest of my life is set. I just have to make it through until then."
Eric could practically see her rationalizing this all away. "You don't have to do this. You can leave. You can just walk away. Here, let me help you - " Sarah slapped away his offered hand.
"Oh and you're one to talk. You got me into this. You did this to me." At the end she was practically screaming.
Eric could barely speak. "I'm sorry Sarah. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to - "
"To what? To turn me into a whore? A piece of meat that random men pump themselves into at a park bathroom? Fuck you Mr. Collins. I don't need your sympathy, or your help for that matter. You're the same as them. I swallowed your cum just like the rest of the men who came in here. You're no different."
Eric truly did not know what to say to her.
"Next time you see me in class, think of me like this. I don't know if you'll feel guilty or turned on, but either way you can take it and stick it up your ass. Now leave. I'll have more work to do soon."
Eric just turned around and left. He had nothing to add, certainly nothing that she'd want to hear. The stall door slammed shut behind him, the lock clicking back into place, and he thought he heard a quick sob before she managed to hold it back.
As Arthur walked out a man walked past him. The guy was short, maybe 5'9", and had a beer belly. Chilly from his hot dog had dropped down to smear across his shirt. His greasy hair was balding, and what was left was poorly combed over his pate. The waft of stench that accompanied his passing had Eric thinking that he couldn't have possibly showered any time this week.
Eric turned to go home, but stopped mid step. He turned back to face the restroom and watched as the man turned into the second to last stall. He waited, transfixed, unsure of what would happen. Sure enough, there was a small thud against the stall wall, followed by the man's moans. Slight slurping noises could be made out, echoing off the concrete walls.
In that stall, Sarah had her lips wrapped around his cock, her nose pressed into his unwashed crotch. Her tongue was darting across his tip as he pressed his fat stomach as far up against the stall as he could, getting as much of his dick inside of her as possible. He wasn't even trying to cover his moans, or if he was he wasn't very good at it. Eric could hear that he was obviously enjoying himself.
"Oh god yeah, suck my cock you bitch, you filthy whore."
The man's words were whispered, but they were clearly audible from where Eric was standing. Suddenly Eric heard the man make a series of grunts which Eric could only assume was him finishing. That was that then. His cum now covered Sarah's face right alongside Eric's. Right now she was swallowing down however much of his jizz had happened to land in her mouth.
Eric left as quickly as he could. He couldn't stand to have to see the man again, knowing what he had just done to Sarah, what Sarah had just done to him. Eric was angry now. This was different though. This wasn't the impotent, directionless rage that he had been feeling since Arthur started this chirade. No. This was cold, centered, focused. Arthur could not be allowed to do this. Eric had given him this whole thing, and he was going to take it away. Arthur needed to be stopped, and Eric had an idea on how to get the job done.