Deena’s Story

Tears ran down my face as I walked up the garden path towards our new house. Blinded by the sadness, I couldn’t find the keyhole as the key scraped over the brass lock. My shoulders shuddered while I let out another cry for help. “Toby!” The door opened and I fell into the arms of my love.

“Fuckin hell... what’s up with you, Rainy Face?”

I didn’t know how to tell him. So I just spilled the words from my mouth. “I lost it. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.”

“Lost what?”

“My job.”

“What..? H... How?”

“They’ve sacked me before my probation finished.”

“You confronted them, didn’t you? About their fraud. I told you not to, because I feared this would happen.”

“I had no choice, I couldn’t start my accounting career by getting involved in such a corrupt company. I have my pride, as well as my morals.”

“I know, but I want to keep my legs... Come on. Let’s talk about this over a brew.”

Inside the living room, I sat slumped on the couch as Toby placed a hot mug onto the coffee table. I leaned forward and shoved the tear filled tissue into my pocket. “Thanks.”

“Can you claim against them?”

“Of course. But it could take years to settle. Never mind a load of money.”

“What are we going to do, then..? We need to pay Mickael his ten grand back... on top of all the other expenses.”

“I know, I know.” I picked up the mug and sipped the hot tea through my lips. “I just... I just don’t know what to do.”

“We’ve got to do something... Mickael told me I’ll lose the use of my legs, if we don’t pay him back the damages.”

“I can’t believe you crashed his car, and got us into this mess.”

Toby tightened his fists. “It was an accident... how many times will I have to tell you.”

“I know... the dog came out of nowhere, you swerved to avoid it, then ploughed the car into a tree.”

“I didn’t even want to drive his fucking Merc. Look, we need to do something... he’s not just my boss, he’s a fucking psycho.”

“Toby, stop telling me things I already know. I need solutions, not a lecture.”

“You’re Dad?”

I watched as Toby sat opposite me. “No, we can’t.” The disappointment on his face saddened me more. “We can’t go begging to Paps again, not after what he’s been through. Our wedding almost killed him.”

“I can always go and ask my parents.”

I sighed, and glanced at Toby. “We both know why we can’t go there, don’t we?” We weren’t on talking terms with his parents after a disastrous family holiday a year back, but that’s for another story.

“I know.” Toby held his face in his hands. “Well you’re just going to have to go and get another accounting job.”

“It won’t happen in time to save your legs, though. “

“You have an ACCA, you must be highly in demand.”

“I know, but I have just been sacked... A lot of firms won’t even look at me. It will take ages to find another position that pays as well.” I reached out and grabbed Toby’s hand. “Look... if he does disable you... I promise to stand by you. In sickness and in health, remember.”

“You can’t leave me out to dry.”

“I know... But I dread to think where all this is going to lead too.” I noticed the soiled tissue on the coffee table. I could have sworn that I placed mine in my pocket. I shoved my hand in the pocket and, sure enough, felt my tear filled tissue. “Toby?”

“What?”

“You’ve been wanking.”

“No I haven’t.”

“Yes you have.” I picked up the soiled tissue and threw it at him. “Indian cuckold videos again?”

Toby slumped his shoulders while he hung his head. “Guilty as charged your honour.”

“You disgust me.”

“The girls remind me of you, my Indian Princess.”

“I’m British Asian.” I stood from the couch. “And never going to sleep with another man... No matter how much porn you watch.”

Toby’s Story

I had just left the apartment for work. The fresh air of the winter cleared my head and allowed me to think straight. With Deena sacked, it was just my income supporting us. And because I smashed up my boss’s car on the way to the car wash, I had ten grand to find... in six weeks. Let’s just say I had a lot to think about.

I manage a bar in a strip club. I have always told Deena that I work in a casino bar, which was true, but there is a strip joint upstairs, and for the past six months I have been working the upstairs bar.

The whole building is run by an Albanian businessman called Mickael Asharvin, I stress the word businessman. Mickael is one ruthless fucker. He once paid for my silence after I accidentally walked in on him rearranging an employee’s face after he had caught him pinching from the cash register. That’s why I know he wasn’t lying when he told me he would kneecap me, if I fail to find his ten grand.

I thought I would have left this job long ago, it was supposed to just get me through uni. But graduated a year ago, and yet I’m still no closer to fulfilling my dream as a journalist. After working at the club for five years I’m now on first name terms with Mickael, and regarded as one of the more senior members of staff. Still barely paid more than the minimum wage, mind.

Doing a weekday shift drags. The club is dead until ten. So for the first two or three hours it’s just me and the girls, all of which hardly speak a word of English. Still good to look at though.

I spotted Mickael pacing towards the bar. He didn’t look too impressed. So I made myself busy by wiping the black marble surface. “Evening, Boss.”

“I’ve seen more life in a morgue.” Mickael spoke with a thick Eastern European accent, and I always had to concentrate when he spoke. “Toby. You have face like smacked arse. No wonder no one stays. What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“Money problems.”

“You English are lazy, back in Tirana, I pay barman less than half. He work twice as hard, and smiled all the time. I pay you more, yet you have face like mother-in-law’s backside.”

“Deena lost her job.”

Mickael snorted a laugh and waved his finger in my face. “You very clever man, Toby. Trying to make me feel sorry for you. You think me a fool, huh? I asked you take my car to be cleaned, not to be scraped. You will pay for the damage, one way, or the other. Even if it’s with your legs.”

I felt the mood change and my arse began to bite my boxers. Mickael is temperamental at the best of times, so it’s best not to piss him off. “I promise, I’ll find the money.” I held my hands up. “Do you need an accountant, by any chance?”

“No... I’m always in need of new girls though.”

“Deena isn’t the type.”

Mickael’s leather coat crumpled as he folded his bulky arms. “Your girl is really hot. I love spicy women, they’re hard to come by. Brown skin makes good money.”

“Deena is quite a conservative girl, though. It had to propose to her, before she let see her naked.”

“Innocent girls are the best. Get her here. She is the only way I will get my money, and you will save your legs.”

“I’ll see what she says, Boss.”

“Good.” Mickael slapped me on the back, sending me down to the bar. “Don’t let me down...Or else.”

Mickael loves Deena. When he spotted us in shopping in the city a few months back, he literally gawped at her tits for the whole time we were talking. He was that obvious that Deena told me she could feel his eyes burning a hole in her chest. Made her feel really uncomfortable, meaning she’s hated him ever since. So there was no way I could ask her to come. Plus how the fuck would I explain about never having told her I work in a strip bar?

After a long shift I got back home just as daylight broke over the dark horizon. In the kitchen, I opened the fridge door and took out the cheese. Slamming the door, my eyebrows arched as a disheveled Deena stood wearing my old football shirt. “What are you doing awake?”

“Can’t sleep for worrying.”

“I’m sorry.” I leaned forward and kissed Deena’s forehead. She might have looked like she had been through more hedges than a fox on the run, but I would still definitely ravage her. “I still have just enough energy felt for a quickie, Dee.”

“You have to be joking.”Deena groaned and rubbed the back of her neck. “I feel sick.”

“It was worth a try.” I leaned over the counter and took out a slice of brown bread. “So, you have been busy filling out applications?”

“More than I care to mention. But I need a quick fix... I have a friend who told me about webcam modelling. Can earn quite a bit from it, and they pay weekly. But the internet is shit around here.”

“Isn’t that stripping?”

“I know, I know. But I’m desperate. I’ll do anything.”

I began buttering my bread. “I was talking to Mickael today.”

“Oh, that dirty bastard.”

“Yeah, well, he has just opened a strip joint upstairs and looking for new strippers.”

“How much?”

I slammed the knife through the hard cheese. “Some of the girls earn a grand over a weekend... not sure what they exactly do for that... I work in the casino after all.”

“I’ll come with you tomorrow. Seeing as he’ll take the use of your legs if I don’t.”

“Fuck me... really?”

“We’re desperate... I’m desperate.”

Deena’s Story

Despite the fact I was going to a strip club, I dressed formally as it was still an interview. I wore a tight fitting ivory sleeveless blouse and a short black pencil skirt. Every girl likes heels and I’m no exception, I stood tall and proud on my six inch black stilettos.

I knew this was the quickest way of earning money. It might sound arrogant, but I knew I was more than just a head turner. Men craved me. So I was more than confident about being a stripping success.

The club is situated on the edge of a tech park. Probably far enough from the city centre to avoid generating headaches for the city council, but close enough to attract the clientele who had wallets fat enough to keep the revenue flowing in.

The low sun cast long shadows across the car park. Despite my earlier confidence my heart began to flutter as we stepped up the concrete steps towards the double glass doors.

Stepping through the open glass doors, the club was empty. A tinny echo of a radio played music from the sixties. Only two middle aged women dressed in scrubs busied themselves with a mop and bucket. On the stage was a mountain of bin bags filled with empty plastic bottles and glasses.

I held Toby’s hand as he led me through a side door and followed him up a narrow staircase. Toby stopped and knocked on a heavy secured door. Mickael’s asked us to wait. Hearing his think Eastern European voice set off my nerves. I squeezed Toby’s fingers and stared into his brown eyes. “Are you coming in with me?”

“Do you want me too?”

“Yes... But then again it’s not professional.”

“You’re right.”

“After all, I’m a big girl now.”

“I’ll be right outside. The blinds are open and I can see what’s going on in there.”

“That’s good.”

“I promise not to wank if you have to strip.”

“You think...” Right, it might sound daft seeing as I’m at an interview to be a stripper. But I just thought he would take one look at me and make me sign the dotted line. “Crap.”

Suddenly the door opened, and there stood the muscle bound, bald headed brute. I loathed Mickael... but he was the only man who could save us from our financial cliff. “Mickael, how lovely to see you again.”

“Deena... As gorgeous as ever. I see you have come dressed for the occasion, with your lovely long legs out for everyone to see.”

“Thank you.” The fact he was already ogling my figure repulsed me. “I find your charm most flattering.”

Mickael wore a grin as he nodded at Toby. “You’re a lucky bastard.”

“I know.”

“See you in a half an hour, Toby.”

My heart fluttered and I felt my skin clamed up. I glanced at Toby with desperate eye, before stepping into Mickael’s office.

The office was softly lit and the walls were painted in maroon. Large paintings of exotic vistas hung in simple frames that were subtitled with motivational phrases. Mickael gestured for me to sit on the two seater leather couch. He sat behind his neatly kept desk which seemed far too organised for a man of his apparent background. Leaning forward from his chair he smiled, showing a gold tooth, no doubt the result of some backstreet brawl. He stared at me as he spoke. “Toby has told me about your situation. I’m sorry about your job.”

“He told you that?”

“This not true?”

“Yes, it is. Just I thought some things were private. That’s all.”

Mickael leaned back and opened his drawer. He brought up a carved glass decanter filled with what appeared to be whisky, and then followed it up with two crystal tumblers. Wearing an unnerving smiled, he muttered, “I drink while I do business.”

“Isn’t that bad practice?”

“It works for me. I’m not exactly broke, am I?”

“No... Not your not.”

“Join me.”

It sounded like an order, rather than a token of Mickael’s generosity. “Just a small one thanks.”

“Good, I like a girl who drinks.”

I stood from the couch and took the tumbler off Mickael. We touched glasses before I sat back on the couch. “Cheers.”

Mickael lent forward and rested his elbows on his highly polished mahogany desk, then placed his hands together as if he was about to pray. “I’ve always treated Toby like a son.” His smile again unnerved me. “But you know what your husband did to my brand new Merc.”

“I know.”

“But as always, I’m willing to help. Deena, this is an easy way to earn a lot of money... In process, repaying your husband’s debt to me.”

“A man might think it’s easy.”

“I bet there are a million shelf stackers that would think there job is harder.”

“What can I expect to earn then?”

Mickael stood from his leather chair. “For a girl like you.” He walked around his desk before sitting on its edge, then stared at me. “Limitless.”

“I need figures.”

“I’ll have many fingers in many pots.”

“Come again?”

“I own this gentleman’s club, the casino downstairs. But I run an exclusive escorting agency, and an adult film studio.”

I arched my eyebrows and felt I was getting involved with someone that I shouldn’t be. I downed the whisky in one. “Here’s me thinking I’m here to be a stripper.”

“You need ten grand in a month, not five.”

“I know, but... Can’t we extend the loan?”

“No... I’ve been generous enough.”

“I have morals.”

“I did once. But life robs you of them, one, by one.” Mickael crunched an ice cube in his mouth. “You either fuck a few guys, or I fuck up Toby’s legs. It’s as simple as that.”

“I hate you.”

“Funny. It still amazes me how women really think that hurts me.”

I felt like spitting at Mickael’s fat ugly face, “I hope you rot in hell.”

“I probably will. That’s why I’m making the most of things.”

“So, go on then. What’s quickest to repay you? And ending this nightmare”

“Royalties from films will earn you the most over time. But you need instant cash, so escorting. My girls earn 800 a night. But I reckon I can squeeze a grand out of you. But it’s low season, unfortunately. So your mine for at least a month... Then you can leave.”

My heart sank. I stared down at my heeled shoes while feeling a sense of darkness descend on me. “I have no choice but to agree.”

“Right.” Mickael climbed off the desk and stepped up to a cupboard. “So let’s begin the interview.”

“Oh, haven’t we already?”

“All models have to be casted.”

“Casted?”

“Yes. It’s common industry practice.” Opening the door Mickael pulled out a tripod and what I took to be a camera bag. “I’ll send the video to my trusted contacts.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be comfortable with that.”

“If you want to succeed in this industry, then you have to cast. What clients are going waste time and money if they don’t know who they are... working with? Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“But I’m a professional. What if the video is leaked?”

Mickael fixed the expensive camera to the tripod. “It’s up to you. You want to walk, fine. Leave.” The bastard nonchalantly shrugged. “Want the money, and your husband’s legs. Stay, and take off your clothes.”

I couldn’t believe what I was doing. My knees trembled as I stood from the couch. Toby was the only man to have seen my naked body. Yet here I was about to undress for a man I detested. All in the hope entering the sex industry.

Whatever had happened to my dignity, where was my life going?

Mickael’s Story

I am a bastard, I admit it. But I don’t exploit women in the sense of treating them like slaves.

They are rewarded well and offered protection should they need it. I am merely a talented business man. I must be, I have a large portfolio of businesses and investments across Europe. Call me arrogant, but I see myself as the Richard Branson of Albania. Although my empire couldn’t be called Virgin, obviously. Slut would be more apt.

As for Deena, it’s her fault for marrying such an idiot. It’s a case of his legs or her dignity, she’s made her choice. The wrong, one, but I’m not complaining. Plus, I really like my car. I had to go without it for a month, because Dickhead had wrapped it around a tree.

Sitting my on my leather desk chair, I picked up the remote control for the CD player and pressed play, filling the office with seventies Mo-town. I grinned at a nervous Deena. “You like..? I don’t have any Bollywood music.”

“Thought that would be the case... No, that’s Ok”

“I can change to something a bit more... hip, though.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Good. Let’s get started.” I switched the camera on and trained the viewfinder on the Deena’s beautiful Indian body. “Strip to the music.”

On the few times we had met, Deena had always portrayed an obvious confidence and commanded an air of authority that her looks deserved. But as she slowly began to unbutton her blouse she appeared most awkward and trembled like a virgin. I wore a wry smile while I offered my advice. “Relax, you’re the most gorgeous girl that I have ever casted. Ignore me, and dance like you would for Toby.” Deena offered an awkward smile as she continued her less than convincing routine.

However, a minute later my words... or the whisky, seemed to have an effect, her once rigid hips began to sway to the rhythm of the music. The confidence suited her, and I could begin to imagine the girl making me a ton of money.

I have casted, I don’t know, as many as a thousand girls or more. But a confident Deena, stands above every single one. It’s not just about her looks, I’ve probably casted better looking women. But there was just something about this girl. She possesses a class and sophistication that girls in this industry lack. The girls that do have classy looks tend have more attitude than a cat caught in the rain. So far, I’m yet to see Deea throw a tantrum... I suppose Toby must deal with all hissy fits. Talking about my long serving barman... Why the fuck Deena is with him? He’s a nice enough guy. But this chick is top, top dollar.

Deena had unbuttoned her blouse and let it slip down her long slender arms. Her stomach was flat and her ribs were just about visible. Not enough to call her skinny, but just enough to show she took a certain pride in her body. I now wanted to see her tits.

She didn’t disappoint. She dropped her black and silver plunge bra, revealing a small but fulsome rack. They were probably too small for a for a good tit wank, but big enough to hang on to. The kind of tits that will still look good when she hits her menopause.

Deena ran her fingers through the waist band, signalling it was time to lose the platted pencil skirt. She reached around to her back and pulled the zip before guiding it down her smooth brown legs. Now, I have never been much of a leg man, but fuck me, I was converted. They were longer than the Trans Siberian railway and smoother than my baldy scalp. “Now, Deena, turn your back to me and lean over the couch.”

My voice broke her from her routine and robbed her of her confidence. The awkward girl returned. “You want me to..?”

“Yes, back to me, place your hands on the cushions and stick your arse in the air... And lose the knickers.”

“But...”

“Your arse and pussy are the tools of your new trade.” I unhooked the camera and stepped towards Deena while she had her brown backside stuck up in the air. Her black laced knickers separated pert rounded cheeks. “Obviously your clients will be interested in what you’re packing.”

My eyes widened with glee while Deena slowly pulled down the black laced knickers over her nubile thighs. I leaned forward holding the camera, recording her inner details on HD. My mouth moistened as the glow of the camera’s light painted her succulent tight pussy a pale blue. She smelt good and obviously took great care of her hygiene “Part your legs and spread your cheeks.” I listened to her groan under her breath while she did what she was told. Poor Deena must have been tense as her arse hole winked at me.

My dick was ready for business. “Sit back now, and relax.” Like all the girls do, Deena made a B-line for her clothes. It has always surprised me how easy it is to get girls naked, even the clever ones like Deena. Every girl has an inner slut. If only I had realised this fact when I was at high school. I would have never been the need to worry about being a virgin. Smirking I watched as Deena covered her tits with her blouse. “No, no. Not finished yet.”

“Please.”

The panic on Deena’s face made my heart cry. But work is work. “It’s now time for the physical.”

“No. You can fuck right off.”

The disrespect alarmed me. “Don’t tell me to fuck off. You’re mine, don’t forget that.”

“Sorry.”

“You need to prove you can do this. I can’t have you embarrass me.”

I noticed a uncomfortable looking Toby on the other side of the window. I’m not worried about him. After all there was a reason why I had left the office blinds open. A few weeks ago we all had a right laugh when security found a shit load of cuckold porn on his phone. So today the three of us have a vested interest in the next hour being a success.

Deena looked like a worried virgin who was about to be busted. She lifted her doe eyes, and glanced at me. “Can I have another whisky?”

“Sure.”

“In fact, make it a double.”

I felt like being generous. “There are cigars in my draw for afters, if you want.”

“No thanks, I seem to have enough dirty habits at the moment.”

Deena was damn right.

Deena’s Story

There was a brief period just after I found out about Toby’s cuckold fantasy when I used to whisper stories to him while we made love. They usually consisted of me getting fucked by a black man. Never once did I mention an Albanian porn baron. None of these stories ever tuned me on. While I endured this nightmare, I suppose Toby’s dream has come true.

In an effort to ignore the degrading situation, I emptied the double whisky in one. The strong taste burned my throat and sent a shiver through my bones. My mind raced.

But when Mickael stepped in front of me with rubbing cock through his slacks, I offered him the best whorish smile I could muster.

The couch leather stuck to my bare skin. I sat with my legs crossed, hiding my naked pussy. Slightly bent at the waist, I hid my tits with my crossed arms. A bit daft I suppose as Mickael had documented everything with his bloody camera.

My stomach churned and my heart leapt into my mouth as Mickael undressed. Naked he stepped up to me while holding his cock close to my face. I nervously muttered, “You want me to give you a blow job?”

“Suck it.”

Despite portraying a smile, I felt like giving the cheeky bastard a slap. I held Mickael’s cock in my hand and pulled his foreskin back, watching as his purple cockhead emerge from his rolls of skin. As I leaned forward, the smell of piss polluted my nose. I gave it a brief lick before recoiling back in horror. The taste was bitter and made me wretch.

Feeling embarrassed I glanced up and saw the disappointment on Mickael’s face. “Sorry.”

“You have to get rid of those nerves, Deena.”

“I have only been with one man... Sorry.”

“You won’t be saying that any longer.” Mickael stroked his fingers through my hair while he continued to talk softly. “Nervous girls don’t make good money. You have to find that inner whore. Every girl has one.”

I sighed as I knew the quickest way of getting out of here was just to succumb to his wishes and demands. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Toby peaking through the half closed blinds. He was wearing his wanking face... I left like breaking his legs, myself.

Rubbing his cock, I slowly leaned forward and opened my mouth. I closed my eyes and took his dick into my mouth. His putrid taste made me want to gag. He tasted like rancid milk. But I still sucked, and did my best to expel groans of satisfaction.

I breathed a sigh of relief as Mickael removed his cock from my mouth. Mickael placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me backwards, so leaned into the backrest of the couch. “Let’s see how good you are and deep throating.” He knelt onto the couch, ant towered over me, resting his hands on top of the backrest.

I reluctantly opened my mouth. The bastard then thrust his cock to the very back of my throat. I aligned my neck in hope of opening up, but still coughed and gagged.

My chocking seemed to drive Mickael into a lustful rage. He pushed deeper and harder. I grabbed his hips with my hands in the hope of controlling his thrusts. But I had no hope of slowing him. What’s more, my head had nowhere to go and I just had lay there and let him fuck my throat. I felt my head was explode.

Finally Mickael pulled his cock out, the stepped back. In a fit of coughs I lunged forward and fell to the red carpet, tipping a gallon of spit and saliva from my mouth. I spluttered and gasped while I tried to breath.

Standing over me, Mickael began to wank his cock. “Good. Well done. You took a right battering and survived.”

“Just.”

“You’ll enjoy the next one.”

I brushed my face with my forearm, wiping the saliva from my chin.“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Lie on the couch with your legs open, facing me”

Climbing on to the couch I laid back and rested my head on the crux of the backrest and seat cushion. I held my legs behind my knees and pulled them back while Mickael knelt down in front of my vulnerable pussy. After what the bastard has just put me through, a good licking was the least he could offer me. A little bit of me hoped he would smother himself to death. Now there is wishful thinking... a girl can dream.

I tensed up and my heart pounded inside my chest. Mickael’s fingers spread my nether lips. His tongue pushed deep inside, before he dragged it over my clit. He then rested his tongue on top my bean, before wagging it like a tail.

For the first time that day I felt myself begin, ever so slightly, to relax. I rested my legs on Mickael’s rounded shoulders and spread my arms across the couch. He was obviously a man of vast experience because despite me hating him, his tongue was making me shiver with sensual pleasure.

I closed my eye and dreamt it was Toby.

My pleasure came to an abrupt end when his chubby hands slapped down on my breasts. Mickael proceeded to knead my breasts as if they were bread dough. He pulled, stretched and flicked my aching nipples. Not moving his mouth from my pussy, he grunted, “You need to be whorish to earn money, Deena. Scream.”

I never felt confident enough to be a vocal lover. Even when I was in an orgasmic rush, I would only offer a quick burst of excited yelps. So to scream down the house would not come natural. But I suppose this was work, not love. So I began to groan.

“Louder.” Mickael slapped me across my breasts. “Scream.”

I yelled out as I felt his tongue cleaned out my pussy. My insides clenched up and I gave a genuine scream as his tongue passed over my anus. “Hey! No one has done that.”

“They should have, you taste great.”

“You repulse me.”

“Not he first to say that.”

Mickael was clearly an expert, and must had hundreds of women. The fact notches on his bed post had more zeros than my bank account, pissed me off. I hated him.

Mickael rose to his feet. His knees glowed red after kneeling on the carpet for so long. He pulled me up by my hands and led me across the office. With one swipe of his arm, he cleared desk of his paperwork into an open drawer. Then he tossed his laptop on his desk chair. Taking the camera off it’s tripod he placed it on the desk. I ruefully asked, “Is that still running?”

“Of course.”

“Are we?”

Mickael smiled as he rolled a condom over his cock. “Yes. Show them that you’re a a full blown whore, who is worth thousands.”

Putting his hand on the back of my neck he thrust me forward and bent me over his desk. I gazed at point blank range into the black lens of the camera as I felt his cock against my outer pussy. Myself respect vanish as his cock broke its way in before sinking deep inside. I felt dirty and used.

Despite the fact I felt like crying, I screamed like the whore I had become.

Mickael’s hands grabbed onto my shoulders, and pinned me to desk which rattled under every thrust. The camera recorded everything. Smiling in between every groan, grinning after every scream, I put on the performance of a lifetime.

Toby’s story

As you already found out, I’m a wannabe cuckold. So the fact my boss was fucking my beloved wife over his desk filled me with a degrading excitement.

I had only expected Mickael to ask Deena to dance for him, maybe ask her to strip to her lingerie. But this was insane. Don’t get me wrong, I know what goes on behind his office door. Every girl in here has the same story about how she got the job. But Deena is my wife.

Still, this is the best wank I have ever had. So I’m just going to keep quiet and rub myself silly.

Deena screamed loud and proud, yelling while she slapped her hands on the desk. I watched with glee as Mickael took a fist full of her long black hair as he continued to pound her slender body. She arched her back as he pulled on her hair and continued to slay my love with his cock.

I felt on the on the verge on the cumming, so slowed the pace of my wanking. As Mickael pulled his cock out of Deena, She flopped onto the desk like an empty sack. He leaned over and picked up the camera and placed it back on the tripod.

Pulling Deena to her feet, he spun her around so she faced him, then placed his bulky arms around her slim thighs and lifted her on to his mahogany desk.

Deena slumped back onto the desk like a ragdoll. She seemed empty and unable to take anymore. Her skin glowed and glistened under the sweat. Mickael stepped in between her spread legs. I flinched as I heard her yelp as he pushed himself back inside her. Pre-cum spurted from my cock over the cream wall.

Mickael placed both of her long brown legs over one of his shoulder, then folded her in two. Ball deep in Deena, he then began pummeling my sweet wife. Deena’s tits rocked as she continued to be stretched beyond recognition.

Deena’s orgasmic cries were a joy to hear. It might just have been me, but she never sounded so animalistic. I couldn’t take anymore and pulled a tissue from my pocket. My knees then buckled as I shot my load.

It was a good five minutes before Mickael did the same. Only being a dominant male, he did it on his own terms. He pulled out, leaving Deena’s stretched pussy showing its healthy pick innards. Unsheathing his cock from it’s condom, he walked around the desk and stood by her panting face. Second guessing Mickael, Deena opened her mouth and poked out her cherry tongue. His dick then showered her face with his thick putrid sperm, not finishing until her pretty face lay under a web of cum.

My highly conservative wife had been turned into a cum loving whore. And I loved her even more

Fully dressed, Deena opened the office door and walked right passed me. I hurried along behind her as she walked towards the staircase. I wasn’t sure how to act. I mean, what do I say to her after that? I went for the politely ignorant. “How do you think the interview went?” She ignored my question... she knows me too well.

“Enjoy your wank, Toby?”

“I... Yes, yes I did.”

“Get me home, I need a shower.”

Back at our apartment we stood naked under the shower. I had my arms around the woman I loved. Under the hot running water, I whispered into Deena’s ear. “I love you.” I rested my chin on her shoulder and waited for her to reply. But had to fill the silence myself. “Honest, I knew nothing about that, Dee.”

“I don’t suspect you did.”

“I hope you do... Are you OK?”

“As good as I can be after that.”

I placed a kiss on her soft fulsome cheek. “I’m deeply sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am.”

“Don’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy watching me.”

“That’s not the point though.” I began smothering the skin on Deena’s back with soap. I could see faint bruises on her shoulders from Mickael’s hands.

“Still, I saved your legs.”

“Thank you, you’re my hero.” Filling my hand with extra sensitive soap, I placed it between her legs. She jumped as it touched her tender nether lips. “I guess you’re sore.”

“It’s burning.”

“He was pretty big, wasn’t he?”

“He was at least an inch bigger than what I’m used to.”

I glanced at my sad looking cock. “Thanks”

“Oh, by the way, Mickael told me he’ll burn you a copy of the interview.”

“He did?”

“No... I’m just Joking.” I was less than deserving of such a gift. Deena stepped out of the shower onto the rug. “Come on, you can dry me quick then put me to bed. I’m shattered.”

I woke in bed to find the light on, and Deena rooting through the wardrobe. “You OK? it’s...” I checked my mobile. “Nearly midnight.”

“Mickael has been on the phone. He told me it was a good job and I could literally earn thousands in extras.”

Despite being half asleep, I felt my dick throb under the sheets. “I dread to think what you’re going have to do.”

“I’m the entertainment at a party.”

“A party? What sort of party?”

“Some rich footballer’s. City have just won a cup to something.”

“City... They just won the league title... You’re dealing with young millionaires here.”

“Exactly, why do you think I’m taking the job? Might pay of the debt in one night.” Deena threw a shirt at me. “Now get ready, you have to get me to the club quick.”

“Right. You sure you have the energy?”

“Money motivates me. Plus the quicker I earn, the faster I get out of this shitty mess.”

“You’re the better halve of this relationship. I’ll never know how repay you for this. You’re amazing... you’re a gift that just keeps on giving.”

“Sssh... I’m late. Get ready.”