Months passed. My secret became a dark routine, my escape and my prison. But the pressure grew unbearable.

One afternoon, Jack called me into his office. His expression was cold, calculating.

“We’re downsizing,” he said flatly. “Your position is on the chopping block.”

My heart dropped. I couldn’t lose this job. My family depended on me.

I pleaded, desperate. “Please, Jack. I have four kids. My husband’s business is barely surviving. Don’t fire me.”

He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with something cruel. “There is one way you keep your job.”

I swallowed hard. “I’ll do literally anything to save it.”

He smirked. “Spend the weekend with me, just one night. And you keep your job.”

I shook my head, fury and shame mixing in my chest. “I’m married and have kids. I’m not a slut.”

“Your choice,” he said. “But you have three days to decide.”

I went home, heart shattered. I looked at my husband, the man who loved me, trusted me and my kids playing innocently around us.

How could I betray them any further? But I had no choice.

Friday night, I told my husband I was going out with friends. He smiled, supportive, unsuspecting.

Instead, I drove to Jack’s mansion. A vast, lonely place that smelled of power and lust.

He greeted me with a deceptive gentleness, guiding me inside with a respect that barely masked the hunger in his eyes. We settled down, talking quietly, the air thick with unspoken tension. 

Later, a lavish dinner and endless wine loosened my defenses and I drank deeply, desperate to drown the nerves.

He held my hand, steadying me as he led me to his bedroom. Fear and anticipation churned inside me, a turbulent storm of doubt and desire. 

Deep in me, I was thinking, I am married to a loving husband but now I am entering another man's bedroom, with the intention of getting fucked. 

He pulled me close, lips meeting mine in a slow, demanding kiss. I melted against him as his hand slipped beneath my dress, sliding into the warmth of my pussy.

Fingers peeled down my straps one by one, freeing my breasts to the cool air. The dress clung by a thread at my waist as he hungrily kissed and sucked my nipples. 

Suddenly, warmth pooled unexpectedly, and I realized I was lactating. Blushing, I apologized, but he was lost in worship, drinking from me with an eagerness that made my shame ignite.

I got up and my dress slipped to the floor, leaving me naked in front of him, exposed and vulnerable. His hands circled my waist possessively, lips tracing a fiery path from my belly to my dripping pussy, tongue flicking over my clit and sliding inside as he devoured me with his hunger.

He spun me around, his mouth trailing from the curves of my back down to the curve of my ass, lavishing every inch with kisses and licks. 

When it was my turn, I got on my knees and yanked his pants down, his thick cock springing free and pressing hot against my face.

Though I’d done this many times by now, I’d never seen him this hard or this big. When I asked, he smiled darkly and confessed he’d taken Viagra to make it unforgettable for both of us. I pushed my doubts aside and began sucking him off, slowly and deliberately.

Perched on the bed, I kept up the rhythm while his fingers found my ass, teasing and sliding inside. 

It wasn’t my first time with anal play, but his touch was rougher and commanding. After a while, he told me to lie back and spread my legs wide.

I obeyed, taking deep breaths as he lowered his mouth between them. His tongue worked miracles, coaxing my body to a fierce climax that left me trembling. Through tear-filled eyes, I whispered, “I’m ready; do it now.”

He rose, locking eyes with mine, then entered my pussy slowly, filling me inch by inch, stretching me open. I felt every pulse and grind of his dick as he pushed deeper than I’d ever known possible, his size overwhelming yet intoxicating.

With shame flashing in my eyes, I looked to him for reassurance. His smile was gentle as he kissed me, urging me to take him fully. We moved together, kissing, the rhythm growing urgent and fierce.

Then he pulled out, and I gasped, drawing in a shaky breath. His hands gripped my waist, flipping me over. From behind, he slammed into my pussy hard and fast, each thrust a reminder of how far I’d fallen.

Just when I thought I could take no more, he pulled off his condom and plunged in raw, balls deep and shocked me with the rawness of his skin against mine.

The heat pooled and spilled inside me as he unloaded, filling me completely. When he finally pulled out, a little of his seed dripped out, mixing with the slick wetness between my legs.

We lay there naked, heaving and spent, the heavy silence broken only by our ragged breaths.

I lay with legs parted, cum seeping from my pussy, a bitter cocktail of regret and twisted satisfaction flooding my mind.

Turning, I curled into his side, seeking comfort in the warmth of his body, any solace I could find.

Then my phone buzzed.

It was my husband, calling on FaceTime.

I grabbed the nearby bathrobe, wrapping it around me, and answered with a trembling voice.

My legs were still spread, sore and tender, while I FaceTimed my husband. The camera only caught the top of my head and he had no idea my boss lay sprawled across my belly, arms wrapped possessively around my waist.

Shame churned in me, but I kept my voice steady as I spoke to my husband and kids. Once the call ended, I set the phone aside, closed my eyes, and simply gave in.

Jack latched back onto my breasts, suckling greedily. When he finished, he dragged me to the edge of the bed, cradled my head, and tilted it back. My mouth opened for him, no gag, no resistance and just submission.

With one knee braced, he started slowly thrusting, his cock deep in my throat. The bulge was visible, the stretch undeniable. I was tearing up, spit soaking my chin, and yet I moaned around his dick.

When he pulled out, his huge dick glistened with my saliva. Then came the lube. I knew what was next.

"Doggy," he said, and I obeyed, presenting myself, spreading my ass.

His tongue teased my hole, then a finger played before the cold slickness of lube poured in. No finger after that, just the head of his cock pressing against my tight ass.

It resisted. I screamed when he finally pushed through, and he held me close, whispering comfort. Slowly, the pain ebbed, replaced by something hotter, deeper.

Pleasure bloomed. He kept going, then flipped me onto my back, locking eyes with mine while fucking my ass hard.

It lasted longer than I expected. Exhausted, I felt him pull out, then slip inside my pussy again.

His body pressed against mine as he kissed me deeply, filling me again. I didn’t move. Just lay there, drained, as sleep claimed us.

Morning came. I woke in his arms, kissed him out of habit, until I remembered it wasn’t my husband. Guilt returned like a knife.

My body ached everywhere. I could feel how hard he'd taken me. I stumbled into the bathroom, cleaned out my sore holes, and soaked in the tub.

Then Jack entered, totally naked and hard. I couldn’t resist. I leaned over and took him into my mouth, warm and heavy. He came down my throat, and I just smiled at him from the water.

He climbed into the tub, wrapped around me, and held me while I laid my head on his shoulder. I closed my eyes, guilt softened by his touch.

We showered, dressed. I wore the sundress I brought. Over breakfast, he handed me $3000.

“One thousand for each session,” he said.

“But we only had two,” I replied.

He smirked. “Then one’s still left.”

Anger flared. “I gave you everything and my body. You used me fully. Why again?”

He leaned in. “To remind you—this is more than a transaction.”

Frustrated, I started undressing, but he stopped me.

“Not here. I want you fresh when you get home.”

We left in silence. He drove me back, parked under my building.

In the backseat, I climbed on and rode him one last time, letting him finish deep inside.

As he pulsed inside me, I whispered, “So my job’s secure now?”

He grinned. “Obviously. Especially now when I have a stress buster.”

I walked home, still filled with him. My kids ran to hug me as I stepped inside. My body ached with every movement. I collapsed onto the couch, onto my husband’s lap and I was ashamed, sore, and full of regret.

He looked at me with love. I looked back, overwhelmed with guilt.

One man had ruined my body…and here I was, playing wife again.