Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Adaptation - Chapter One

Warning: The following story describes events that are illegal, immoral, and just generally a very, very bad idea. Nothing in this story should be emulated. Nothing in it is a good idea. Nothing in it actually happened, either -- it's a work of pure fiction. If you are underage, easily offended by things that probably should offend you, or unable to differentiate between fantasy and reality, you should probably piss off right now.

Andrea was not having a good morning.

It was supposed to have been a happy day; the day that their new television would be installed. Truth be told, Andrea didn’t really care about the television at all. Her husband Chris told her that it had all the newest bells and whistles, spouting off acronyms she didn’t know and numbers she didn’t care about, but Andrea couldn’t really see it as anything more than just another flat screen. What she did care about, however, was that it would put Chris in a good mood for at least a week, and when Chris was happy things were generally a lot easier for her.

The morning had started out positively enough. The installer from the custom electronics house (Chris refused to shop at a big box store, viewing it as beneath him) arrived at 7:30 on the dot, just as promised. He introduced himself as Caesar, and seemed professional enough. Andrea expressed concern that he might have difficulty installing the new 55" television on his own, but Caesar assured her that televisions had gotten much lighter over the years and that he would have no difficulty lifting the set without help. Andrea believed him, but she wasn’t sure how much of that was due to the weight of their new flat screen and how much was due to the fact that Caesar seemed to be in remarkable shape – though he wasn’t exactly bulging with muscles, his trim figure implied that he worked out routinely and would have little difficulty lifting a heavy object.

After putting on a pair of disposable cloth booties, Caesar followed Andrea into the living room. Caesar had Andrea sit on their sofa while he positioned a 55" cardboard rectangle against the wall where the television would be mounted, moving it up and down until Andrea assured him that he had the right height for her comfort. He made a faint marking on the wall at the top of the cardboard with his pencil and informed her that he was ready to get started. Everything was running smoothly.

And that’s when Chris entered the picture.

Chris had a remarkable talent for making himself look like a pompous asshole, a talent that seemed to be strongest when he was dealing with people that he viewed as his economic inferiors. Everything had been so pleasant up until that point, and Andrea wanted to keep it that way. She said a silent prayer in the hopes that Chris might restrain his inner-douchebag just this once, but sadly, the gods didn’t seem to be listening.

Do you even speak English? Chris asked, speaking very slowly and over-enunciating each syllable.

It seemed like such a ridiculous question to Andrea. Granted, Caesar’s tan skin and sharp facial features implied a possible Latino ancestry, but Chris had no reason to doubt that the man spoke English. Additionally, the even that he had thrown in the middle implied that speaking English was the easiest thing in the world, suggesting that Caesar must be particularly ignorant if he couldn’t even manage such a simple feat. With one simple question, Chris had managed to take a polite and professional television installation and turn it into an extremely awkward and potentially hostile situation.

I assure you, sir, Caesar answered emotionlessly, I speak English fluently.

His words and tone were professional enough, but his body language implied that he was more than a little offended by Chris’s question. Still, it wasn’t the end of the world. If Chris left things as they were, Andrea believed she might be able to salvage things with a simple apology. Unfortunately, Chris had fifteen minutes to kill before he had to head off to work and he clearly wasn’t planning on leaving anything in a salvageable state.

Apparently feeling the need to make things as bad as possible before heading out, Chris proceeded to take Caesar on a tour of the house under the pretense that Caesar would need to know the site that he was working on. Andrea could forgive Chris’s implication that she had done a poor job of showing Caesar what needed to be done in order to install the television – she was, unfortunately, used to Chris casually implying that she was incompetent – but the tour was little more than an opportunity for Chris to belittle and demean Caesar. The tour was hardly limited to the living room in which Caesar would be working; Chris showed him every single room on the bottom floor of the house. In each room, he showed Caesar the more expensive furnishings; exaggerating their value while not-so-subtly implying that Caesar could never afford such luxury. Caesar managed to maintain a professional attitude, though Andrea wasn’t sure how. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he had called Chris out as the arrogant douchebag that he was acting like – in fact, she might have backed him up.

Eventually, eight o’clock rolled around and it was time for Chris to head off to work. By that point things were probably beyond salvage – after a good fifteen minutes of condescension it seemed unlikely that Caesar would view Chris in a positive light – but Chris just needed to make sure. He simply couldn’t head off to work without knowing for certain that Caesar fully understood that he viewed him as a lower form of life.

I’m off to work, Chris had announced. Try not to fuck up my home – I would hate to have to call immigration on you.

Caesar responded with an obviously feigned laugh, but Andrea wasn’t an idiot. She knew how he felt. She knew that he despised Chris; she knew that Caesar was only being professional because he had to. She also knew that Chris either didn’t know or didn’t care about just how hostile he was leaving things, and why should he? He would be out of the house until well after Caesar was finished; he wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of his actions. Once again, it would be on her to deal with the inevitable fallout of her husband’s shit.

And so she had confined herself to their bedroom; far away from Caesar, far away from any obligation to account for her husband’s actions. She hated it. It was stupid and childish; acting as though she could absolve herself of her husbands’ sins simply by keeping out of sight. She wanted to leave – she had things to do, after all – but every time she thought about opening the door she imagined seeing Caesar and feeling like the world’s biggest asshole, just for being associated with Chris and the things that he had said.

This is bullshit, she told herself. I’m a grown woman; I’m not going to be imprisoned in my own home. I didn’t even do anything wrong here; I was polite to him the entire time. It’s not my fault that Chris was an asshole, and I don’t deserve to suffer because of it.

Riding out her burst of courage, Andrea exited her bedroom and headed downstairs into the living room. Caesar was working at the moment, though he looked up when she reached the bottom of the stairs. It wasn’t a good thing. The look on his face didn’t say oh look, here’s the homeowner checking on my progress – it said oh look, here’s Mrs. Douchebag, probably here to spell out just how much better than me she is in terms even a simpleton like me can understand just in case I had forgotten. Andrea felt her courage waver, but she couldn’t just turn around and head back to her bedroom. She was already downstairs, and she had to deal with the situation.

Listen, she opened, her voice as apologetic as could be. I’m sorry about my husband. He has a very stressful job, and he occasionally takes it out on the wrong people. The things he said to you this morning were out of line, and I sincerely apologize.

Okay, Caesar shrugged.

His body language clearly conveyed that he wasn’t moved by her apology in the slightest. Andrea could see that he still viewed her as nothing more than Mrs. Douchebag, and that bothered her. She knew it probably wouldn’t make a difference in the long run, but it was important to her that he understand that she wasn’t like Chris; that she didn’t look down on him or view him as subhuman. She knew that she should probably just let the issue drop and move on with her life, but she decided to press it.

No, you don’t understand, she pressed. I know how my husband is, and I know that isn’t okay…

No, I understand just perfectly, he interrupted. Listen, lady, your husband might think that I just came to this country yesterday and this is my very first job here, but I’ve actually been doing this a very, very long time. I’ve worked for you and your husband before, and I know exactly how you are.

When did you work for us? Andrea asked, legitimately confused. She couldn’t remember having ever seen Caesar before in her life.

Not literally, he explained, but I’ve met enough people like you two that you all kind of blend together. Look, I’ll prove that I know you. We’ll start with your husband.

Your husband, he continued, believes that he has some kind of powerful job with real authority – in reality, he’s little more than a glorified middle manager. He mistakenly believes that his career somehow makes him a member of humanity’s elite, and he assumes that because he’s one of the chosen few that it’s his job to shit on every single person whom he views as beneath him. He’s abusive to his employees, condescending to anyone who he thinks earns less than him, and has probably spat on the homeless at least a handful of times. He’s almost universally hated by the people who know him, but he thinks that’s because they’re jealous – in reality it’s because he’s an objectively terrible human being.

Andrea grimaced a bit. While his description of Chris was mildly vague, it was dead-on accurate for the most part. The only part she wasn’t sure about was Chris literally spitting on the homeless, which as far as she knew he had never done. She wasn’t about to correct him, though. She suspected that he meant it as hyperbole, and more importantly she couldn’t be certain that it had never actually happened – though she had never personally witnessed it, she realized it wouldn’t exactly be too character for him.

So that’s your husband, he stated. Now, let’s do you. You’re what we call the enabling wife. You spend most of your time cleaning up his shit – apologizing to people on his behalf, making lame excuses about how he’s just under a lot of pressure with his very stressful job, and insisting that he really didn’t mean the things that he said. When you’re not justifying his behavior to others you’re rationalizing it to yourself so that you can go on pretending that your husband really isn’t the arrogant, pompous douchebag that everyone knows he absolutely is.

Andrea didn’t like what he was saying. She wanted to get defensive and tell him that he was wrong, but she found that fairly difficult on account of the fact that she knew that he was much more correct than she would have liked to admit. Mostly, she wanted him to stop talking – his words were making her think of things that she really didn’t want to be thinking about. Unfortunately, it seemed like Caesar was far from done.

Now to be fair, though, he continued, you don’t just forgive his shitty behavior when other people are the victims – you excuse and explain his shitty behavior when it hurts you directly. You insist that he really does care about you; he’s just under too much pressure to show it. You tell yourself that it’s not a big deal when he forgets your birthday – I mean he has so many dates to keep track of already, right? You pretend that it’s actually romantic when for your anniversary he e-mails you some sappy poem he plagiarized off the web, complete with words that you know he doesn’t know the definition of. Hell, you even forgave him for the affair – after all, he’s only human and who amongst us hasn’t accidentally tripped and fallen into a strange woman’s vagina, right?

Andrea felt her stomach dropping. She had no idea how Caesar knew about the affair – she realized that it was probably just a lucky guess – but it was entirely too accurate for her liking. Chris’s mistake was not something that she regarded as a high point in her life, and she still had plenty of negative emotions associated with it. It wasn’t something that she enjoyed thinking about, much less talking about – especially with someone who seemed eager to paint her as an enabler that at least partially deserved the pain and humiliation that Chris’s actions caused her.

Shut up, she growled through clenched teeth. That’s none of your business, and it’s over. Handled. Won’t happen again.

Sure it won’t, he laughed dismissively. I doubt he’d risk facing your wrath again – he probably still wakes up in a cold sweat every now and then, terrified by the memory of how you unconditionally forgave him the last time. Please. If he hasn’t cheated on you again since – and that’s a real big if right there – it ain’t because he’s afraid of what would happen, or because he loves you, or because he respects you. It’s because he just hasn’t had another opportunity yet.

It was way over the line. Andrea wouldn’t have tolerated a close friend saying the kind of things that he was saying, and wasn’t about to allow a complete stranger who was supposed to be working for her get away with being so disrespectful. Focusing on the anger she felt for his inappropriate behavior while ignoring the anger she felt towards herself for letting Chris get away with his affair so easily, she stepped forward and slapped him across the face with all of her might.

It felt more like slapping a brick wall than slapping a human face. Her hand stung like hell; the pain was actually difficult to ignore. Looking up at him she found that the pain was apparently not mutual – although he wore a faint pink outline of her hand on his cheek, he seemed otherwise unfazed. Coming down from the adrenaline and realizing what she had just done, Andrea began to panic.

I’m so sorry, she whimpered. I swear to god, I didn’t…

Just stop, he interrupted. I don’t want you to be sorry – sorry doesn’t help either one of us. What would help you, however, is to be aware. Be aware of the fact that what you just did to me is far, far worse than what you did to him. Ask yourself how it is that you get angrier about someone mentioning your husband fucking around on you than you ever did about your husband actually fucking around on you in the first place. Oh, and lady? You’re going to want to figure that out sooner rather than later. I’ve met enough of your kind to know what your future holds, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.

What’s that supposed to mean? Andrea asked hesitantly. She was a bit worried about encouraging him to continue talking – the things that he had said so far hadn’t exactly made her feel great – but she was legitimately curious about what he thought her future might be.

I’ll tell you, he shrugged, but remember that you asked. So here’s the thing – you know all those prized possessions that your husband took such pride in showing off to me this morning? He doesn’t actually care about what they are; he cares about what they say about him – specifically that he can afford a level of quality that others cannot. It’s like this TV – it has dozens of features, and he probably doesn’t know what any of them actually do because the only feature he cares about is the fact that it’s seen as the top of the line, meaning that he can invite your neighbors over and show off how his stuff is so much better than their stuff.

What’s your point? Andrea challenged. He wasn’t exactly telling her anything she didn’t already know (even if the things he said were things she didn’t like to think about) and she didn’t see how it related to her.

Haven’t you figured it out? he shot back. You’re just another one of his possessions. He likes having you as a wife because he can show off how he has this smoking hot, intelligent, and above all subservient woman who will follow him around and clean up his shit. Thing is, in a couple decades you’re going to be just like this TV – top of the line in its day, but now woefully obsolete to the point that he feels compelled to trade it in for a newer model, lest he suffer the shame of being seen with something only a commoner would have. When that happens to you, well – what are we doing with your old TV again? I think the work order said that we were to haul it back and toss it in the dumpster.

Andrea again felt sick to her stomach. The things he was saying weren’t new ideas to her at all. Truth be told, she had often worried deeply that the only thing Chris actually liked about her was being able to show off his hot young wife, though she had never mentioned it to anyone else. She hated thinking about it, hated thinking about what would happen when she inevitably aged to the point where Chris no longer valued her body, but she knew that what he was saying was in all likelihood true. Eager to think about something else, she searched his words for something – anything – that she could latch on to in order to change the subject.

You think I’m smoking hot? she asked shyly. She felt immature, shallow, and foolish for saying it, but it was better than thinking about what her future with Chris might hold.

I don’t think you’re smoking hot, he replied quickly. I know it. That’s not opinion, that’s objective fact. Still, you’re not really my type. I have nothing against submissive women or anything, but I tend to look for partners – not doormats.

Andrea was at her wit’s end; emotionally devastated by the cold things that Caesar had said and hurt by the fact that even his compliments had barbs in them. She wanted to prove him wrong, needed to be able to tell herself that he didn’t know nearly as much as he thought he did. She wanted to force him to admit that she wasn’t just another submissive suburban doormat of a housewife, gratefully accepting her husband’s abuse and cleaning up the fallout after him. She wanted to make him acknowledge that she was so much more than the meek little girl he was painting a picture of; that she did in fact have a spine and didn’t need to take shit from anyone. Confused, hurt, and panicked, she gave into her instinct and did what it demanded by stepping forward, pressing her lips against Caesar’s, and sticking her tongue into his mouth. It might not have been the best plan in the world, but she was overwhelmed and couldn’t think of anything else.

Caesar kissed back. Feeling his tongue against her did little to calm Andrea – if anything it only intensified the chaos that she was already feeling. His kiss felt alarmingly good, but that only filled her with guilt. Realizing what she was doing, realizing that she was cheating on her husband and that was absolutely not okay, she broke off the kiss and took a few steps back.

Oh my god, she panted, overcome with guilt, shame, and lust. I can’t believe I did that. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m not…

Caesar cut her off, though not verbally. Stepping forward, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back into him before resuming the kiss that she had aborted. Although she felt horrible about what she was doing, Andrea kissed him back – not because she wanted to prove a point, not because she wanted to get even with or even punish Chris, but simply because she wanted to. She knew that what she was doing was wrong, but it felt entirely too good to stop.

I shouldn’t be doing this, she gasped when the kiss finally ended. I really, really shouldn’t be doing this. This would destroy Chris.

Fuck Chris, Caesar replied emotionlessly. I don’t give a flying fuck about him; it’s you that I’m interested in. Now if you want me to stop because you legitimately don’t want this, that’s fine – I’m not a rapist and I’m not going to force you. If, however, you want me to stop because you’re worried about your piece-of-shit husband’s feelings, then I have to ask you this: what would he do if he were in your situation? Would he be worrying about devastating you?

Andrea felt herself feeling sick again. She knew exactly what Chris would do in her situation – hell, she knew what he had done in her situation in the past. Thinking about it made her feel weak, worthless, and undesirable, but that led to something else: anger. She felt angry about how Chris treated her, angry about how he treated other people, and angry at herself for letting it go on as long as it had.

Finding that feeling angry was far preferable to feeling worthless, Andrea latched onto it. She ignored the voice in her head screaming about two wrongs not making a right and focused only on her desire to get even – along with her desire to get off. She told herself that she had spent far too much time putting what Chris wanted in front of what she needed, and it was time to fix that. It was time for her desires to take priority, and at the moment her desire was standing right in front of her.

Without saying a word, Andrea leaned back in and kissed Caesar. It was all the encouragement that he needed; once he saw that she was interested he took care of the rest. Running his hands over her body, he explored her flesh in a way that Chris never had. His actions felt strong and confident – nothing like Chris’s artless fumbling. Although she knew that she should feel guilty about what she was doing, she just couldn’t seem to feel too bad. It had been so long since Chris had engaged in anything close to making out – let alone foreplay – that she had forgotten how much she enjoyed it. The fact that she found Caesar to be tremendously attractive didn’t hurt things, either.

Caesar skillfully unbuttoned Andrea’s blouse and helped her out of it, tossing it aside on the floor. Returning the favor, Andrea helped him out of his work shirt. The differences between Caesar’s chest and Chris’s were stunning – though Caesar was hardly muscle-bound, his athletic build stood in stark contrast to Chris’s bloated form. Caesar had defined pectoral muscles where Chris had sagging man boobs; Caesar had six-pack abs where Chris had a keg. Andrea didn’t want to think of herself as a shallow person who would put looks above character, but just looking at Caesar made it hard for her to continue pretending that she was above physical attraction.

Not here, Caesar stated. Let’s move this to your bedroom.

That’s Chris’s bed, Andrea warned. He’d kill me if I did anything in it.

I don’t think Chris is going to be too happy with you regardless of where we do this, Caesar pointed out. I don’t think he’ll kill you, though. I’ll tell you what – if Chris finds out, you let me handle this. Like I said, I know how people like him are, and I can handle this.

Under different circumstances, Andrea might have written off Caesar’s claim as little more than empty boasting combined with a bullshit promise in order to get sex. The confidence in his voice, however, made her feel like it was safe to trust him. Deep down she knew that it was extremely unlikely that he’d be able to handle things if Chris found out, but she didn’t want to think about it too much and lose her nerve to continue. Again ignoring the voice in the back of her head that told her to stop, she eagerly led Caesar to the bedroom with both parties shedding clothing along the way.

By the time that they reached the bedroom they were both completely naked. Spinning around, Andrea kissed Caesar deeply on the lips as he wrapped his arms around her. Holding her tightly, he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bed. Andrea was impressed – Chris couldn’t seem to carry a couple of grocery bags into the house without being winded, yet Caesar didn’t seem to struggle in the slightest. Laying her on her back, he quickly climbed into bed and joined her.

Caesar grabbed her ankles and spread her legs wide apart. Andrea cooperated fully – between the taboo of what she was doing and the intensity of the make out session downstairs, she was more than ready to go. To her surprise, though, Caesar didn’t just climb on top of her and stick it in. Instead, he maneuvered his head between her legs, running his tongue along her inner thigh until he reached the middle.

It had been so long since Andrea had received oral sex that it took her a moment just to realize what he was doing. Chris was never a fan of going down on her, and often made things so awkward that she had simply stopped asking. As Caesar’s tongue worked its magic, however, she found herself quickly realizing just what she had been missing. It felt extremely good – although she didn’t think she’d be able to reach orgasm from his tongue alone, she knew it would get her very, very close.

At least she assumed that she wouldn’t be able to cum from oral alone. Once Caesar introduced his fingers into the mix, she started to question that. Although Andrea had never had an easy time reaching orgasm, it was feeling more and more like she might climax just from the foreplay. It wasn’t something that she was in any way used to, but it certainly wasn’t anything she objected to either. Enjoying herself far more than she felt she had a right to, she moaned openly as Caesar drove her closer and closer to the edge.

She was almost there when he stopped. In fact, she was so close to orgasm that it was almost physically painful to be denied. Frustrated, she let out a quiet groan. She doubted that Caesar would leave her hanging, but she really wanted him to finish what he started.

I was so close, she complained as Caesar brought his face up to hers.

I know, Caesar smiled. And I don’t want you to worry too much – I will get you there, eventually. Just, not until I feel like it.

But I want to cum now! Andrea retorted. She felt a little childish making such a demand, but she really hated being sexually frustrated.

I know you do, Caesar consoled as he ran his arms underneath her body and up her back. I need you to understand something, though – I am in control of your orgasm. You’ll cum when I want you to, and not a moment sooner – or later, for that matter.

Andrea was somewhat intrigued by the idea of him having full control of her orgasms, but she wasn’t quite sure that he could pull it off. In her experience, men were quick to boast about their ability to make their partners cum, but rarely had the ability to back up their claims. Still, she reminded herself that this wasn’t Chris she was dealing with. Chris might have been unable and uninterested in getting her off, but Caesar seemed far more capable and willing.

Questions as to whether or not Caesar could actually manage what he was claiming quickly evaporated as he kissed her again deeply. While he explored her mouth with his tongue he pressed his cock against her vaginal opening. He hesitated for a few seconds just to tease her before forcing himself into her, his movements slow and deliberate, yet suggesting tremendous power.

He was bigger than Chris. That alone didn’t come as a surprise – it wasn’t like she neglected to sneak a look earlier, after all – but the extent of the size difference was far more than she would have expected. From the looks of things she might have guessed that he was only an inch or so longer than Chris, and maybe just a little bit thicker, but the difference felt like night and day. Chris’s entries had always been noticeable but uneventful; Caesar felt almost as though he was stretching her out.

She knew Chris would have a problem with that. Granted, Chris wouldn’t be happy about any part of what was going on at all, but she knew the size issue would come up if he found out. She suspected that it would be the first question he asked if she were to confess to him, and she knew he wouldn’t want to hear that Caesar was bigger than him. Strangely, though, she felt less guilty about that than she would have expected. On the contrary, she almost felt good about the fact that it would hurt Chris, good about the fact that he might suffer the way that she had suffered after his affair. She didn’t really like thinking in such a sadistic way, but she couldn’t pretend that the thought of hurting Chris back wasn’t a major factor in the pleasure that she was feeling.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to focus on potential issues with Chris finding out for long. Caesar’s forceful strokes were enough to thoroughly clear her mind of anything other than just how good it felt to be fucking him. She quickly found herself once again on the road to a powerful orgasm but she held herself back; remembering Caesar’s claim that she must not cum a moment sooner than he wanted. It felt strange to deny herself pleasure that she knew she wanted, but not necessarily bad.

Not yet, Caesar ordered, clearly sensing how close she was. I want you to hold on; deny yourself the pleasure until I tell you it’s okay.

I can’t hold it much longer, Andrea moaned back. She wasn’t lying – she knew she might be able to delay her orgasm a few more seconds, but it was only a matter of time until her lust overpowered her will.

You won’t have to, Caesar promised. I’ll give you permission soon, but first I need you to tell me that you understand that you are not to cum unless – and until – I tell you to. Got it?

I do, Andrea insisted, desperate to cum and willing to say pretty much anything he wanted.

Say the whole thing, he corrected, punctuating his demand by ramming into her hard. It didn’t hurt her (much) but it made it a whole lot harder to delay her orgasm.

I won’t cum unless you give me permission! she cried out, worried that if he made her hold off much longer she’d prove herself a liar right away.

Good girl, he grinned, never breaking his stride. That wasn’t so hard, now was it? Now, cum for me. Cum for me hard.

He didn’t have to ask her twice. Frankly, he didn’t even have to ask her the first time – Andrea had held on for as long as she humanly could, and simply couldn’t have delayed her orgasm a second longer. With permission granted she broke into an orgasm so powerful that it made every single one which came before it seem insignificant. Every muscle in her body seemed to violent contract, her moans were loud enough that she was amazed the neighbors hadn’t called the police. Wrapping her legs tightly around Caesar, she realized that at that moment she didn’t even care if Chris caught her – it would have been worth it.

After what felt like an eternity, Andrea’s orgasm finally began to die down. She was amazed that she had managed to maintain consciousness – throughout most of it she felt like she might pass out due to sheer exertion. Gradually coming back down to Earth, she realized that she had just promised full control of her orgasms to Caesar. While the idea still seemed hot, she suspected it might be a bit difficult in practice.

You didn’t really mean that, did you? she moaned, still riding out the aftershocks of her orgasm. About me only cumming when you tell me to?

I did, he assured her. I wouldn’t have had you say it if I didn’t.

But how would that work? she argued. I hate to remind you, but I have a husband – and you aren’t him. Am I even going to see you again after today?

I had planned on it, he replied, sounding almost offended that she would suggest that what they were doing was a one-time thing. And don’t worry about your husband – again, I can handle him.

Andrea wasn’t quite sure what he meant – it didn’t seem like the situation with Chris was something that could be handled – but she didn’t pay too much attention to it. The idea that she might be able to fuck Caesar again (with the same explosively orgasmic results) was desirable enough that she didn’t want to think too much about the logical repercussions of what she was doing. Besides, he wasn’t done fucking her yet, and she really didn’t want to ruin the mood by talking about Chris. She could already feel another orgasm building up inside of her, and it felt like it might be just as powerful as the last one.

High on sexual energy, Andrea slipped into an almost trance-like state while Caesar fuck her with a degree of skill and force that she had forgotten existed. She was vaguely aware of switching to different positions, but everything seemed to blur together in her mind. By the time that he finally came deep inside of her she had long since lost track of her own orgasms, though she knew she had asked – and received – permission before each one.

Physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted she fell asleep in Caesar’s arms shortly after he finished. She knew that falling asleep with a strange man in her bed was potentially dangerous, but she was willing to take the risk. Chris wouldn’t be due home for several more hours, and besides, she lacked the energy to get up even if she had wanted to.

Continue reading with chapter two.

Adaptation - Chapter Two

Warning: The following story describes events that are illegal, immoral, and just generally a very, very bad idea. Nothing in this story should be emulated. Nothing in it is a good idea. Nothing in it actually happened, either -- it's a work of pure fiction. If you are underage, easily offended by things that probably should offend you, or unable to differentiate between fantasy and reality, you should probably piss off right now.

This is part two of the story. If you haven't read part one yet, you should probably do that first.

Andrea found herself lying in bed, still mostly asleep. Everything seemed so unreal to her, so much so that she wondered if everything that had happened had just been a dream. Her behavior was so out of character for her. She wasn’t the one who cheated; she was the good one, the one who took her vows seriously and always played by the rules. She couldn’t cheat on Chris, the guilt alone would destroy her – and yet, she felt virtually no guilt at all.

Her theory that it had all been a dream was slightly undercut by the fact that she could still feel Caesar’s body lying beside her. She tried to tell herself that it was probably just Chris, but that didn’t seem very believable at all. There was no mistaking Caesar’s firm, toned chest for Chris’s flabby belly – the feel alone made it very clear that the man she was lying with was most certainly not her husband. She knew there would be issues arising from that, but at the moment she didn’t really care. It felt very good lying there, and she was more than willing to put off dealing with the fallout until later if it meant prolonging what she was feeling at the moment. Time seemed to dilate, but that was okay – she was happy where she was, and didn’t want to change anything.

Eventually she heard the sound of Chris’s heavy footsteps climbing up the steps. Still in a dreamlike state, it didn’t register with her that that would be a big problem. She told herself that she could ignore it – sure, Chris might not be happy that she hadn’t started dinner yet, but he’d get over it. It wasn’t until she heard the bedroom door swing open that she realized she had far more pressing concerns than the evening meal.

You motherfucker, Chris growled, his voice awash in rage. Get the fuck out of my bed, you piece of shit.

Andrea woke up quickly. Glancing to her side, she saw that it most certainly was not a dream. Caesar was still lying there; his nudity providing incontrovertible evidence of her infidelity. She began to panic, racking her mind for a solution to the very severe problem she found herself in. Strangely, Caesar didn’t seem worried in the slightest – he looked calm, wide awake, and entirely too confident for the situation that he was in.

Fair enough, Caesar shrugged, his tone of voice suggesting that nothing at all was out of the ordinary.

Tossing back the blankets, Caesar stepped out of bed. He was still completely nude, which was a pretty severe issue in Andrea’s mind. For one thing, it killed any chance of her explaining away what had happened as some bizarre series of innocent events that didn’t include infidelity. For another, the way Chris’s eyes seemed to gravitate towards Caesar’s crotch didn’t bode well. Andrea wasn’t sure if Chris’s fixation was due to the fact that even though he was limp Caesar was still clearly bigger than him or due to the fact that Caesar’s cock still glistened with her juices, but she knew that neither explanation would work in her favor.

You are so dead, Chris threatened. The instant you’re out of my house I’m going to call your job and let them know exactly what happened.

Seriously? Caesar laughed dismissively. That’s how you want to play this?

You think this is a fucking joke?! Chris screamed, his voice breaking from stress. They’ll fire your spic ass, and then you’ll be deported right back to fucking Mexico where you belong.

I was born in this country, Caesar sighed, as were my parents before me, for that matter. I have about as big a chance of getting deported to Mexico as you have of being shipped back to Italy, but that’s not really the point. The point is that I just clearly fucked your wife – in a way far superior to what you could ever hope to manage – and you’re reacting by threatening to tell on me. If you’re wondering why your wife was so eager to stray, you might want to consider just how manly the way that you’re handling this isn’t.

Andrea held her breath. It almost sounded to her as if Caesar was trying to bait Chris into a physical fight and she really didn’t want that to happen. Not only would fighting only make things worse, she worried that Chris might get seriously hurt – Caesar was younger, much stronger, and far more coordinated that Chris; any combat would be laughably one-sided. Things were complicated enough already without having to cart her husband to the emergency room.

Unfortunately for her, Chris didn’t seem to grasp just how outmatched he was. Quivering with rage, he walked up to Caesar and brought his right fist crashing into Caesar’s face with all of his might. Andrea experienced a bit of déjà vu – although Chris was grasping his hand in pain, Caesar seemed to have barely noticed the blow.

That’s a little better, Caesar praised condescendingly. Society might frown on violence, but I think it’s a far more dignified solution than empty threats to go crying to my boss. Still, I’m not sure it’s right for you. I mean, and I apologize if this sounds insulting, but your wife hits way harder than you do.

Fuck you! Chris shrieked, bringing his left fist into Caesar’s face with the same anticlimactic results as the right had yielded.

Too afraid to intervene in any way, Andrea pulled the covers up to her chin and simply observed. The sight of the two men before her seemed almost surreal. Although Caesar was completely naked he didn’t appear vulnerable in the slightest – if anything, he looked relaxed and confident facing down Chris. Chris, on the other hand, was hunched over slightly and panting for breath after throwing only two punches. The two men seemed like polar opposites in every way – where Caesar was strong Chris was weak, where Caesar radiated stamina Chris was exhausted. She found the juxtaposition deeply troubling, as while she knew that she should be on Chris’s side, she couldn’t stop thinking about just how much she preferred Caesar.

Are you done yet? Caesar yawned, casually demonstrating just how intimidated he was not be Chris’s assault.

Letting out a primal scream, Chris charged at Caesar and swung his foot up towards Caesar’s crotch. Unfortunately for Chris, Caesar was a bit too quick for him – he easily sidestepped the attack and grabbed Chris’s foot with his hands. Off-balance, Chris fell to the floor awkwardly and painfully, though Caesar maintained his grip on Chris’s foot. After twisting his foot a bit in order to force Chris to let out a pained whimper, Caesar pressed his left foot down on Chris’s throat. Andrea worried that Caesar might choke her husband to death, but it seemed that Caesar wasn’t pressing down hard enough to prevent breathing.

I’ll fucking murder you! Chris screamed, his threat’s intimidation value significantly undermined by his prone position.

I know, I know, Caesar patronized. Let it all out, little buddy. Go ahead, it’s okay.

His words did nothing to soothe Chris – if anything, they only further enraged him. He thrashed about, howled, and made all kinds of threats, but he did not manage to break free of Caesar’s hold on him. After a minute or so of tiring himself out, he was able to do nothing other than simply lie there pathetically. Andrea felt bad for him, but she didn’t dare intervene. She figured his situation was humiliating enough without having his wife rescue him, and besides, although she felt bad about it she did like the fact that Chris was pacified and less likely to get himself hurt.

Are you done? Caesar asked, still holding Chris down with his foot. Did you get it all out of your system?

Chris glared at Caesar with the fury of a thousand suns, but he did not struggle. Andrea suspected that was more due to exhaustion than anything else. The look in Chris’s eyes made it clear that he’d love nothing more than to slowly torture Caesar to death, but his heavy breathing and sweat-soaked skin suggested he simply didn’t have the energy. He clearly didn’t want to accept it, but he knew that he was beaten.

Okay, little fella’, Caesar smiled. I’m going to let you go now, but a word of warning first: I expect you to behave yourself. You will refrain from throwing any further temper tantrums, you will use your indoor voice, and you will speak only when spoken to. Do you understand, boy?

Chris didn’t answer, preferring simply to glare at Caesar as if he thought he might be able to murder the man with his eyes. Andrea suspected that Chris was simply hoping to save face; hoping that Caesar would release him without forcing him to verbally agree to his demeaning terms. Unfortunately for Chris, Caesar didn’t seem okay with that particular deal. Twisting Chris’s ankle slightly, Caesar forced another pained yelp out of the man.

I asked you a question, little buddy, Caesar reminded him. If you’d like me to release you then you’re going to have to tell me that you understand the rules. If you need to think it over, though, that’s fine – I can hold you here for as long as it takes.

I understand, Chris whimpered. The pain, humiliation, and hatred in his voice were palpable.

That’s a good boy, Caesar grinned, removing his foot from Chris’s throat and reaching down to pat him on the head. So, this violence thing? It really isn’t working out for you – I think we should stop before you get yourself really hurt. How about we sit down and talk about this like adults instead?

Chris looked confused. He clearly wasn’t sure what was going on, but seemed to understand that Caesar was in control of the situation. Sheepishly crawling to his feet, he walked over to the bed and began to sit down. Before his butt could make contact, however, Caesar grabbed his wrist and pulled him away.

Not on the bed, Caesar warned before sitting down on the bed himself. The bed is for grownups, Chris, and after that little spat of yours I don’t think it’s right to pretend you’re a grownup. You may sit on the floor.

An anguished look came over Chris’s face; he clearly wasn’t okay with being forced to sit on the floor in his own bedroom. He hesitated for a second, seemingly considering another physical attack on Caesar for the most recent act of disrespect. Apparently deciding that it wouldn’t likely go any better than the last one did, he reluctantly sat down on the floor cross-legged. He clearly hated it, but didn’t seem willing to risk the further humiliation that would likely result from objecting.

So, Chris, Caesar began, pitching his voice as if he were addressing a small child. I’m going to cut straight to the chase here. Andrea and I now dating. I understand that you’re not too happy about this, and I feel bad for you, but…

That’s my wife! Chris interrupted, unable to keep quiet.

Legally, yes, Caesar agreed. And she’ll remain like that – as far as the law is concerned, you two will still be married. Nothing has changed there, but…

Not for long, Chris interrupted again. If I ever see this scumbag again, Andrea, I’ll divorce you so fast your head will spin.

Chris, Caesar sighed while shaking his head, that’s the second time that you’ve interrupted me. I let the first one slide, and that was clearly a mistake, but if it happens again you will be punished. Be a good boy and wait until it’s your turn to talk, or I’m going to have no choice but to put you in timeout. Do you understand?

Chris again hesitated, obviously searching for any option that he could find other than to agree to Caesar’s terms. Letting out a heavy sigh, Caesar began to rise back up to his feet as if to remind Chris how easily he could physically overpower him if pressed to do so. Remembering how outmatched he was, Chris quickly nodded in agreement.

There’s a good boy, Caesar smiled as he sat back down. Now, as for your impotent little threat – you’re bluffing, and we both know it. Sure, you could try to divorce her, but she’s not the only one who broke your marital vows – or even the first. Furthermore, court testimony is public record, and I’m pretty sure that you don’t want her explanation of just how sexually inadequate you’ve always been to be public knowledge. Might make finding the next wife a bit tricky, and that’s on top of the whole being a middle-aged pudgy dickbag thing that you’ve got going on. Your threat doesn’t scare me, but I’m concerned that you might be making my girlfriend here anxious. I’d like you to tell her that it’s just an empty bluff.

It’s just an empty bluff, Chris admitted after a pause, his voice reeking of shame and his eyes directed straight at the floor.

To Andrea’s amazement, Chris sounded like he was actually telling the truth. She heard the fear, the humiliation, and the misery in his voice – but she heard sincerity as well. It made some sense to her – Chris wasn’t the type who would willingly accept the humiliation of losing his wife in such a shameful manner well – yet she still worried. It occurred to her that if Caesar overplayed his hand it would be her that suffered, not him.

At the same time, however, she refused to stop him. She wanted to believe that that was due to a sense of caution; the fear that if she were to interfere with Caesar’s plans she might accidentally sabotage them to her own peril. She knew that wasn’t the real reason, though. The real reason, as much as she hated to think about it, was that a part of her really enjoyed seeing Chris suffer for once. The fact that Caesar’s confidence and control were a major turn-on for her didn’t hurt things either.

Much better, Caesar praised. I’m glad we cleared that all up. I don’t mean to get all overly-protective here, but I would really prefer it if you refrained from making my girlfriend unhappy in the future. I understand you’re angry and looking to take it out on someone, but that someone really shouldn’t be her. Besides, you really don’t have anything to be angry about when you think about it.

You fucked my wife, Chris reminded him, before shrinking back once he realized that Caesar might view his statement as a challenge.

I did, Caesar agreed matter-of-factly. I fucked her hard, and I’ll fuck her again – though that really isn’t any of your business. You’re looking at this all the wrong way, though. Think about it, Chris – Andrea has been disappointed with her sex life throughout your entire marriage, and things weren’t getting better on their own. You might not like to think about it, but I think we both know that you’re not only incapable of getting her off – you’re incapable of even caring enough to try. The sad reality is that this kind of long term frustration is exactly the kind of thing that ruins marriages, but then I came along and fixed everything for you. Your wife is sexually satisfied for once in her life and you didn’t have to waste your time trying to learn how to get her off – which would have been a futile task for you anyway. It’s win-win.

That’s the kind of thing that ruins marriages? Chris asked sarcastically, apparently having gained some courage after not having been punished for his earlier comment. And here I thought it was some dude fucking my wife.

Watch your tone there, Caesar cautioned. And no, if infidelity on its own ruined marriages then you’d have been divorced long ago. Look, little man, you have to stop seeing me as your enemy. Honestly, you should be grateful that I’m here.

Chris simply glared silently. Andrea could tell he wanted to say something, but he was too afraid to do so. She felt bad for him, but at the same time couldn’t help but think that the way he was acting was deeply pathetic. She didn’t like that she felt that way – he was her husband, and she knew that she should have been supporting him – but she just couldn’t pretend that at that moment she viewed him as anything other than inferior. The way that he cowered before Caesar, submissively keeping his eyes down seemed like the exact opposite of manly behavior.

Poor Chris, Caesar sighed, sounding surprisingly sympathetic. Listen, I know how unhappy you are – trust me, little buddy, I know you way better than you think. Here, let me paint a picture for you:

Somewhere along the line you got it into your head that you need to be the big man, the Alpha Male – or whatever it is that you personally call it. Maybe you admired powerful men and wanted to be like them, maybe your parents convinced you that if you’re not in charge then you’re worthless, maybe you just read something idiotic on the Internet and took it to heart. Whatever the reason was, you just knew that you had to be the man in charge and did what you assumed men in charge do. You got yourself a pretty young wife, a job where there are people working under you, et cetera.

Only thing is, this isn’t who you are. You’re not a leader and you know it – being in a position of power makes you feel awkward, confused, and anxious; you know you don’t belong there and it shows. Unable to accept that you are the source of your problem – this all stems from you trying to be something you’re not, after all – you take it out on everyone around you. Your employees despise you and routinely mock your incompetent and abusive style of leadership; your wife tries her hardest to respect you but deep down you know it’s all an act. This feeds the cycle; making you more and more uncomfortable with your own inadequacy. This hurts you.

So here’s the thing: there’s good news and there’s bad news. The bad news is that your situation isn’t salvageable. You’ll never be the man you want to be; all the time and help in the world would get you nowhere. That might sting a bit, but the sooner you accept it the happier you’ll be. The good news is that it’s okay – you don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not. You might not be the leader of the pack, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a place in it. Once you find and accept that place you’ll be much happier, and I’m generously going to help you get there.

Andrea was nervous. The things that Caesar were saying might have rung true to her, but not on any level that she cared to admit. More importantly, she worried that Chris might view Caesar’s speech as a challenge that he couldn’t back down from and end up doing something regrettable. After seeing how easily Caesar was able to incapacitate Chris the last time she had no doubt in her mind that the only thing sparing Chris from serious injury was Caesar’s mercy, and she didn’t know just how merciful Caesar might be if Chris tested him again. Afraid of what she might see, she turned her attention to Chris and attempted to gauge his mood from his body language.

To her surprise, Chris actually looked calm – well, calmer than he had been, at least. He was still out of breath and still obviously emotionally distressed, but Caesar’s words almost seemed to have had a soothing effect on him. She doubted that it would be so simple – Chris had a history of being extremely stubborn – but she could clearly see that Caesar was somehow making progress with Chris. For the first time she began to realize that what Caesar was describing to Chris might not be all too unrealistic, and although she felt mildly ashamed of it she realized that it was something that she wanted.

What about my needs? Chris asked timidly, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor.

They’ll be met, Caesar assured him. Like I said, you might not be the leader of the pack, but you still have a place in it. Do your part and you won’t go hungry.

No, I mean, Chris stammered embarrassedly, what about my, you know… needs?

Andrea understood exactly what Chris was asking, and she found herself surprisingly disgusted by it. He was actually trying to ask Caesar for permission to have sex with her, which she found deeply offensive. She wanted to believe that it was exclusively due to the implication that Caesar could consent on her behalf, but she knew that wasn’t it. The main cause of her disgust was the fact that Chris would stoop so low as to beg another man for the right to have sex with his own wife. She didn’t want to kick him while he was down, and she wasn’t at all comfortable with the shallowness she felt about being repulsed by the situation, but she silently prayed that Caesar would refuse him outright. The thought of taking Chris’s dick under such pathetic situations simply turned her stomach.

I’m going to pretend that I don’t know what you’re asking, Caesar responded, sounding no less repulsed by the question than Andrea was. On what we’ll pretend is a completely unrelated note, a quick word of advice: it is absolutely never a good idea to ask a man if you can fuck his girlfriend. That’s the kind of thing that gets your ass kicked, Chris.

But I have needs! Chris insisted, sounding like a pouting child. I have a right to be with my own wife! I’m not agreeing to any of this!

Letting out a heavy sigh, Caesar again rose to his feet. Chris shrunk back, but it was of little help. Reaching forward, Caesar slapped Chris hard across his face with an open palm, sending Chris to the floor with a pathetic yelp.

Andrea was torn. On the one hand, she was grateful that Caesar hadn’t hit him much harder – she knew that he could easily do some serious damage to Chris, and she was glad that he was being merciful. On the other, she kind of felt like Chris was getting off too lightly. She was disgusted by the petulant way in which he begged, and worried that a single slap to the face wouldn’t be enough to dissuade him from further disgracing himself. She felt guilty about the fact that she wasn’t on her husband’s side, but the pathetic, groveling way he was acting made supporting him impossible.

That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about, Caesar reminded Chris as he sat back down on the bed. You do not have a right to her body, nor have you ever. You don’t even have needs, you just think you do because you’re still under the mistaken impression that you’re the leader of this particular pack. Let me clear things up for you, Chris – your role does not include mating. No woman in her right mind would consider taking your genetic pollution, and that’s just something you’ll have to accept.

Chris crawled back up to his knees. He seemed to consider arguing for a moment, but eventually thought better of it. He didn’t look happy with the situation – in fact, he looked utterly miserable – but he seemed to understand that fighting with Caesar would not end well. She felt bad for him, but not nearly bad enough to intervene on his behalf.

Don’t look so glum, Caesar encouraged. It’s not the end of the world, Chris. I know what you’re thinking – you’re worried that you won’t be able to make it without sex – but once you understand and accept your place you’ll see things differently. When that happens you’ll be grateful – no longer will you have to worry about making silly excuses for your failure to once again satisfy your wife; it’ll be just one more thing that you don’t have to worry about. And hey, just because you won’t be fucking anyone anytime soon doesn’t mean that you can’t participate in some ways. Play your cards right and I might just let you watch. If you’re really good, I might even let you help get her ready for me, just so you feel that you’re a part of our team.

Andrea wasn’t crazy about letting Chris watch – much less help – but she didn’t dwell on it. She didn’t want to interfere with Caesar and risk saying something she might regret later, and besides, she was a bit distracted by Chris’s reaction. He still looked upset, but he had an almost relieved look in his eyes, as if he was willing to accept the conditions Caesar was spelling out. She found herself wondering how she managed to ever sleep with Chris is the past without vomiting as the idea of being with him seemed so tremendously vile at the moment.

I realize that this is a lot to take in, Chris continued after a pause, but I promise you it will get easier with time, once you realize how much simpler your new life will be. Why don’t you take a walk and think things over? It might help.

Chris rose to his feet. His body language still suggested that he was unhappy, but he at least seemed significantly calmer. Turning away, he walked towards the door. He was halfway there when he paused, apparently realizing something, and spun around.

You’re going to fuck my wife while I’m gone! he protested, sounding less like a husband defending his marital bed and more like a small child being denied a treat.

I am, Caesar shrugged, his voice suggesting that Chris had just stated the most obvious thing in the world. I have a lot of pent-up energy after your little tantrum back there, and I think it’s better for everyone involved if I release it sexually with her than if I were to release it violently with you. Trust me, Chris – this might hurt your pride, but at least we won’t have to rush you to the emergency room afterwards.

But I don’t want to leave you alone so you can fuck my wife! Chris whined.

I know you don’t, Caesar sighed, but you’re going to have to adjust. Look, I’ll tell you what, little buddy. I’m hesitant to do this, as after your poor behavior you clearly don’t deserve a reward, but if you promise to stay completely quiet I’ll let you hang around and watch. I don’t want you getting used to this – we don’t want you getting spoiled, after all – but I’ll make an exception just this one time.

What if I don’t want to let you fuck her at all? Chris challenged, sounding frightened yet slightly bolder.

Let me? Caesar smirked, rising to his feet. Well Chris, that’s actually very simple. If you don’t want to let me fuck my girlfriend, I’ll use half of my pent-up aggression to beat you into a state where you can’t interfere, the other half to fuck her anyway, and then I’ll probably end up having to drive your broken ass to the hospital. Everyone involved will fare noticeably worse – the sex won’t be quite as good for me and Andrea, and you’ll suffer a bit more humiliation while watching me have my way with my girlfriend from your broken and bloody position on the floor. You will, however, get some souvenirs of the event to remember it by, in the form of slowly healing broken bones and bloodstains on your nice – almost certainly expensive – carpet.

Now I hate to be short with you, little buddy, Caesar menaced as he approached Chris with his chest out, but I’m a bit low on patience at the moment. Try to see it from my perspective – I could be fucking my girlfriend’s brains out, but instead I’m here arguing with your whiny bullshit – so I’m going to have to stop this right here. You can accept my charity and watch, you can go for a walk, or you can challenge me and make things worse for everyone, but I need you to decide right now. What’s it going to be, little man? Do I need to beat some sense into you before fucking my woman?

Andrea watched in suspense as Caesar towered over Chris, tapping his foot impatiently while waiting for an answer. She hoped to god that Chris would submit and avoid a violent outcome, though her motivation bothered her. She wanted to believe that her desire stemmed from a want to keep her husband safe, but she knew that deep down she just really wanted to fuck Caesar again. She felt like the worst wife in all of history, but she just couldn’t seem to bring herself to root for Chris.

Continue reading with chapter three.

Adaptation - Chapter Three

cuckolding, humiliation, domination, creampie
Warning: The following story describes events that are illegal, immoral, and just generally a very, very bad idea. Nothing in this story should be emulated. Nothing in it is a good idea. Nothing in it actually happened, either -- it's a work of pure fiction. If you are underage, easily offended by things that probably should offend you, or unable to differentiate between fantasy and reality, you should probably piss off right now.

This is part three of the story. If you haven't read part two yet, you should probably do that first.

Chris hesitated for a bit, seemingly weighing his options. Andrea held her breath – she wasn’t completely sure what she would do if Caesar were to beat Chris into submission, but was fairly confident that she would act in a way that made her hate herself in the morning. She wanted to believe that she would intervene on Chris’s behalf and absolutely refuse to ever speak to – let alone sleep with – Caesar again, but she was almost positive she’d do the exact opposite. Fortunately, Chris seemed to eventually realize just how outmatched he was. Again lowering his eyes to the floor, he submissively shook his head no.

I’m glad, Caesar smiled, patting Chris on the head condescendingly. So, moving forward, a word of caution: I’m going to be pretending that you aren’t here, and I suspect that my girlfriend will be as well. Help us to preserve this illusion. I said that you could watch, and I’m not taking that back, but watch silently and with your eyes only. If you try to participate, if you try to draw attention to yourself, if you so much as clear your throat too loudly I can promise you that you’ll regret it. You know that I’ll make good on that promise, don’t you boy?

Chris nodded timidly, avoiding eye contact the entire time. He might have had some doubts as to whether or not he’d actually come to enjoy his new role in life as Caesar had promised, he might have believed that he would yet be able to sabotage Caesar’s plans and return things to how they were, but he knew damned well that disobeying Caesar at that moment would not end well for him. As Caesar turned to walk back towards the bed, Chris timidly backed up towards the wall.

Andrea felt extremely conflicted about what was going on. On the one hand, she did want to sleep with Caesar again. She felt incredibly guilty about that, but the last time had been so immensely enjoyable that she was eager to experience it again. Furthermore, watching the way that Caesar had confidently asserted his authority over Chris had been a major turn-on, even though she was wished that it hadn’t been. It seemed to her that a decent woman wouldn’t get excited watching a strange man emasculate her husband, and she felt a great deal of guilt over that. Still, as troubling as the morality of the situation was to her she knew that she wanted Caesar in the worst way.

On the other hand, she didn’t necessarily want to fuck Caesar in the way that he was suggesting. The sex might have been desirable, but she knew that doing it with Chris watching would be tremendously painful to him. Even ignoring Chris’s likely pain (which wasn’t nearly as difficult to do as she would have liked) the idea of him watching her with another man seemed a bit perversely voyeuristic, and that was assuming that he managed to keep completely quiet and out of the way – something she wasn’t sure he’d be able to manage.

Can you make him leave the room? she asked Caesar hesitantly.

She immediately regretted the question. She knew that Chris heard what she had asked, and she knew that he wouldn’t be happy about the fact that her biggest problem with what was going on was him, but she wasn’t sure that she could make any other argument. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want Caesar and suspected that if she were to pretend that she loved and was faithful to her husband then both men would see right through it. She hoped that Chris would think that a part of why she didn’t want him there was to spare his feelings, but the crushed look on his face suggested that he did not.

I could, Caesar answered, but it’s better this way. I don’t know about you, but I have no interest in sneaking around and doing things behind his back. This will help him to accept reality, which in the long run will make things better for all of us. Don’t you want to be able to fuck when you want to, rather than simply when Chris isn’t here?

What he was suggesting did sound tempting, but she still felt tremendously guilty about how she was feeling. The shameful reality was that she was much more okay with Chris being hurt than she wanted to admit – in fact; a part of her even seemed to think that his humiliation was hot. She tried to convince herself that she was just venting the frustration that had been accumulating throughout their entire marriage, but she knew that was a lie. The truth was simply that as much as she hated herself for it, she was getting off on the idea of Chris being humiliated.

I just don’t want him to get hurt, she lied, mostly for Chris’s benefit. Even if it wasn’t the truth, she felt that it was a good idea to lead Chris to believe that she was concerned with his well-being. In a way, she was – she didn’t want him to get seriously hurt, she just liked the idea of him suffering a little.

He won’t get hurt, Caesar smiled as he climbed into bed next to her. Well, at least not too much – assuming he manages to keep his mouth shut. What pain he will experience is constructive, too – it will help him to learn and accept his place.

That said, he continued, I think I’m done talking about Chris for the night. The little guy’s been hogging all the attention, and he’s just not that interesting, you know? I can’t imagine that you really want to spend the whole night thinking about your loser husband, not when I can think of much more enjoyable things that you could be doing instead.

Running his fingers through her hair, Caesar guided Andrea’s head down towards his crotch. She knew that she could resist – she knew that she should resist, what with Chris watching from the corner – yet she did not. Chris was out of her line of vision, and besides, Caesar was right – she really didn’t feel like thinking about Chris anymore for the night. She knew that she should be ashamed of what she was doing, she knew that she should be protesting loudly, but she just didn’t see the point. The damage was already done, so she might as well enjoy herself.

By the time her head was inches away from Caesar’s semi-hard cock she had almost completely forgotten about Chris. She couldn’t see him from her angle, and Chris had so far managed to remain silent as per Caesar’s instructions. Besides, she was a bit distracted. She could smell the evidence of her infidelity on Caesar’s genitals; the scent of her own sex combined with his sperm filled her nostrils. Strangely, she found herself extremely turned on by that. She had never been a huge fan of the taste or smell of cum, but at that moment it struck her as bizarrely animalistic in a very good way.

Opening her mouth, she ran her tongue down the length of Caesar’s cock, feeling it grow slightly stiffer under her touch. The taste of her fluids mixed with his filled her mouth, further repressing any sense of guilt or remorse in what she was doing. Enjoying herself far more than she knew she ought to be, she gave it a few more licks and coated it in her saliva.

By that point Caesar was legitimately erect. Andrea felt a brief tinge of guilt for that – she remembered how much bigger he had felt than Chris, and worried that seeing him erect would be devastating to Chris’s pride. Strangely, however, that guilt was tempered with excitement. A cruel part of her almost enjoyed the idea of Chris’s pride being laid to waste; taking great pleasure in the knowledge that Chris might suffer in seeing how he was no match for Caesar. Troubled by her own thoughts, she opened her mouth wide and impaled it on Caesar’s dick.

Unfortunately, having Caesar’s dick in her mouth did little to distract her from the knowledge that she was humiliating Chris. Hoping that a little discomfort might fix things, she forced her head down until she found herself gagging on Caesar’s cock. It didn’t help much – she realized all too late that Chris would probably note that she had never gagged on him and would likely suspect it was due exclusively to size as opposed to the fact their sex life had simply never been that aggressive. She was okay with that, though. Remembering how tame and meaningless sex had always been with Chris made her resentful, and that only seemed to further intensify the pleasure she was experiencing in his humiliation. Knowing that she probably shouldn’t but unable to stop herself, she forced her head up and down on Caesar’s cock – gagging each time – and reveled in the humiliation that she knew Chris was almost certainly experiencing.

Before long, Caesar wasn’t just fully erect – he was practically throbbing in her mouth. She could relate to that. Going down on Caesar while Chris watched and knowing how humiliating it must have been for him had been a major turn-on; she suspected that she was just as eager to fuck as Caesar was. She thought about asking Caesar to return the favor and go down on her like he had last time, but thought better of it. While it might be nice for Chris to see that oral sex can actually go both ways, she was dripping wet and at the moment what she really wanted was just some good, hard sex.

Caesar, apparently, felt the same way. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he repositioned her body so that she was straddling him while facing him. She realized that in her current position Chris would be able to see everything, though facing away from him meant that she wouldn’t be able to see him. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. A part of her liked the fact that she would be able to pretend that Chris wasn’t even there, but another part of her really wanted to see the look on his face when Caesar drove her to orgasm in a way that Chris had never been able to accomplish himself.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry about it for too long before Caesar gave her something else to occupy her mind. Placing his hands on her hips, Caesar lifted her up a bit and brought her down hard, impaling her on his cock. Normally she wouldn’t much care for that – one of the things she hated about Chris was how he would drive in hard long before she was ready – but at the moment she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. She was more ready than she could ever remember having been, and any errant pain she might have experienced due to Caesar’s rough entry was easily masked by the massive pleasure of once again having him inside of her.

She let out a deep moan as Caesar ran his hands back to her ass and pressed into her deeply. She hadn’t meant to moan (it had simply happened naturally) and it wasn’t until the evidence of what she was feeling had escaped her lips that she realized that Chris would have certainly heard it. A part of her felt bad about that, given how she had never moaned with such force with Chris and she had only just gotten started with Caesar, but that part of her was losing power by the second. With her libido taking over, the guilt she wanted to feel was being replaced with cruel pleasure, partially out of a desire for revenge but largely fed by simple sadism. Realizing that it was far, far too late to spare Chris’s pride she gave herself full permission to moan openly and truly vocalize exactly what Caesar was making her feel.

It didn’t take very long at all for Andrea to once again find herself on the brink of orgasm. It struck her as strange – no matter how long Chris managed to last she never seemed to even get close, yet only a few minutes after penetration from Caesar she was already almost there. She knew that a big part of it was her partner – Caesar was far more talented, far more attractive, and far more energetic than Chris ever was. That wasn’t all of it, though. A big part of it was also knowing that Chris was there watching, knowing that his eyes were likely fixated on Caesar’s superior cock thrusting in and out of her. She still felt that it was a little gross of Chris to stick around and watch, but she was getting off on his humiliation enough to make it worthwhile.

Apparently sensing what Andrea was feeling, Caesar wrapped his hands around her hips and forced her to stop bouncing. Andrea let out a frustrated groan – even knowing that he wasn’t going to leave her hanging, she still hated being denied an orgasm when she was so close. She tried to resist and keep fucking him, but Caesar was far too strong and had little difficulty holding her in place. Unable to get herself off, she pouted while waiting for Caesar to do whatever it was that he was planning.

Still holding her by her hips, Caesar turned her around while remaining inside of her so that she was facing away from him. It bothered her a bit – she had been enjoying being able to see Caesar’s face while fucking him – but not enough to complain. So close to her climax, she was substantially more interested in cumming than she was arguing over which position she would be in. Once he had her in place, Caesar used his hands to encourage her to resume fucking.

The instant Andrea looked up she realized what Caesar had done. Standing before her, about ten feet away and with his back to the wall was Chris, his eyes focused intently on the penetration just as she had suspected. He looked utterly humiliated and as if he was about to break down in tears, though that didn’t surprise Andrea – it was, whether she liked it or not, exactly what she would have expected. What did surprise her was the way the crotch of his dress pants had tented up. He was hunched over a bit in a hopeless attempt to conceal it, but he was very clearly sporting a full-on erection.

Her initial reaction was one of disgust. She still wasn’t completely okay with Chris’s voyeurism, and the fact that he was getting off on it bothered her. Disgust gave slowly gave way to resentment, as she wondered how Chris could be so incompetent that he couldn’t even seem to handle being cheated on correctly. From there, however, it went in an interesting direction.

She noticed the frustration in Chris’s eyes, and realized that it was all for her. Strangely, she realized that Chris’s frustration was something of a turn-on for her. She found it almost flattering in a perverse way – he was at the very least indicating that he wanted her desperately – but it didn’t end there. The idea of denying him any pleasure, of forcing him to be the one who would go to bed frustrated and unfulfilled for once seemed disturbingly hot. To her surprise, she found that having to see her husband’s humiliation while she rode another man’s cock wasn’t a hardship at all – it only intensified the lust she was already feeling.

Too close to orgasm to concern herself with playing the role of the good wife, Andrea gave in to what she was feeling. She spread her legs wide to make sure that Chris would be able to fully see what he otherwise could not have and moaned loudly so that he would know just how much more she loved fucking Caesar than him. She gyrated her hips and rode Caesar hard just to make sure that Chris knew she was every bit as much of an active participant in the act as Caesar. She sadistically soaked in the frustration in his eyes, knowing that he was too afraid of angering Caesar to dare even ask if he could possibly participate.

May I please cum? she asked desperately, remembering Caesar’s rule and taking a perverse pleasure in reminding Chris that where Chris couldn’t make her cum if he wanted to, Caesar had such an easy time driving her to orgasm that he could get away with demanding that she attain his permission first.

You may, he answered.

That was all that it took.

Lost in the moment, Andrea made no effort to disguise or downplay the force of her orgasm. On the contrary, she did everything in her power to convey just how good it felt and how happy she was with the current situation. Locking eyes with Chris, she taunted him, challenged him, and above all mocked him; doing her best to non-verbally communicate to him just how unworthy he was and had always been of sleeping with her. Chris looked hurt – devastated even – but his erection didn’t go down in the slightest. If anything, he seemed to be struggling even more not to play with himself.

She came so hard, in fact, that she managed to push Caesar over the edge as well. Still under the spell of her own orgasm, she heard Caesar grunting and felt his hot sperm shooting into her, coating her insides. Chris seemed to notice as well – he stared at her urgently, seemingly struggling just to keep silent. Andrea suspected she knew why – Caesar was not wearing a condom, and Chris most likely would have really liked for him to pull out. Acknowledging Chris’s concerns, she forced herself down as far as she could onto Caesar’s cock so that his cum would be shot as deeply into her as possible; flexing her vaginal muscles to milk as much of the sperm out of him as she could. Chris’s facial expression made it clear that he really didn’t approve, but that only seemed to intensify the corrupt pleasure that Andrea felt. Besides, if he wasn’t man enough to stop them from fucking in the first place, she doubted he was man enough to try to do something now.

Continue reading with chapter four.

Adaptation - Chapter Four

Warning: The following story describes events that are illegal, immoral, and just generally a very, very bad idea. Nothing in this story should be emulated. Nothing in it is a good idea. Nothing in it actually happened, either -- it's a work of pure fiction. If you are underage, easily offended by things that probably should offend you, or unable to differentiate between fantasy and reality, you should probably piss off right now.

This is part four of the story. If you haven't read part three yet, you should probably do that first.

Caesar’s orgasm lasted for an impressively long amount of time. By the time he finally finished Andrea felt as though he had injected her with gallons of semen, which surprised her but wasn’t even remotely unpleasant. Climbing off of him she heard his cock come out of her with a wet plop and felt his cum pouring out of her and down her thighs. Exhausted, she laid back in the bed next to Caesar with her head propped up on the pillows.

She could still see Chris’s face from her angle. His eyes were fixated between her legs, and the expression he wore made it very clear that he wasn’t happy about Caesar cumming inside of her. Still experiencing the afterglow of her orgasm, Andrea decided to taunt him a bit more and parted her legs just enough that he’d be able to see the copious amount of sperm slowly leaking out of her. It did little to soothe him – in fact, he looked like he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet for very much longer. His body language suggested panic, but Andrea felt little sympathy towards him. She figured that if it was really that big of a deal, he’d grow a spine and say something. Besides, whatever negative emotions he might have been feeling clearly weren’t enough to depress his erection.

That wasn’t so hard, now was it Chris? Caesar smiled as he wrapped his arm around Andrea’s shoulder.

You came inside of her, Chris stated, sounding utterly shell-shocked.

I did, Caesar agreed. Where exactly did you think I was going to cum? You know what – don’t answer that. I don’t think it’s appropriate at all for you to be telling me exactly where you’d like me to cum on my girlfriend.

What if she gets pregnant?! Chris demanded, his tone growing more urgent.

What if she does? Caesar shrugged. You make decent money, I doubt you’ll struggle too much making ends meet even with another mouth to feed. If anything, you should hope that I did knock her up – it’ll make you more useful in the long run. There’s no way that your wife will kick your sorry ass out once you become the live-in baby-sitter – after all, who else is going to watch the kids when we go out on dates?

Caesar’s words weren’t exactly calming Chris down. Chris’s body language had grown more intense; he was practically shaking with rage. Andrea began to worry that Caesar was pushing too hard. She knew that Chris’s desire for self-preservation would keep him pacified to a certain extent, but there was a limit to that and it seemed like he was butting up against it hard. She closed her legs a bit, worried that if Chris did something stupid he might end up getting seriously hurt.

Looking pretty agitated there, Chris, Caesar observed. You should probably try to relax a bit before you do something you’ll regret. Maybe now would be a good time to go for a walk? Not like I’m going to be fucking her again right now – it’s going to be at least twenty minutes before I’m ready to go again.

I don’t want my wife knocked up, Chris growled, ignoring his suggestion.

I don’t really care what you want, Caesar shot back, but I’m feeling mellow now and would prefer to avoid having to remind you of your place. I’ll tell you what, little buddy – if it’s such a big deal to you, we’ll fix it. I’ve already cum inside her – bit too late to change that – but if you really want to, you can douche your wife. Don’t get used to this kindness, though – I’m being extra gentle with you now in order to help you adjust, but times will change.

We don’t have any douches, Andrea pointed out. She didn’t mean to contradict Caesar, but she had always heard that douching was unnecessary and potentially dangerous and as such didn’t own any.

The hell you don’t, Caesar laughed. There’s one right over there – leaning up against the wall. So, little man, how badly exactly do you want my cum out of your wife?

Fuck you, Chris hissed, apparently having found Caesar’s joke to be less than entertaining.

Watch that, boy, Caesar warned, his voice taking on an extremely stern tone. Just because I’m playing nice for now doesn’t mean that I’ll hesitate to put you in your place if I need to. So, here’s how this goes. Once again, you have options.

Your first option, he continued, is to take a walk and calm down. Sure, my cum will stay inside your wife, but it probably won’t do anything – probably. Your second option is to get your little bitch ass over here and suck out as much as you can. You get to clean out your wife, you get the rare, undeserved privilege of touching her sexually, and best of all you get to find out what a real man tastes like – and don’t even pretend you don’t want that. Your third option is to disrespect me again, and we all know how it goes. I’ll spare you the details, but the key points are that you go to the emergency room, the cum stays inside of your wife, and I get fired up enough that I probably end up depositing some more. So what’s it going to be, Chris? Are you going to be a good boy?

Andrea held her breath while waiting for Chris to make his decision. The look in his eyes suggested that he was about to take a swing at Caesar, and she really didn’t want that to happen. She might have had some pent-up frustration with her husband, but she didn’t want to see him beaten to a pulp and didn’t doubt that that would be the outcome if things came to blows.

The bulge in his pants, however, suggested something else. As angry as Chris might have looked, he was still rock-hard – implying that he might actually be willing to take Caesar’s second option. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that – Chris had never exactly been talented when it came to oral sex, and while the idea of having him suck another man’s seed out of her adulterous twat seemed mildly interesting it was also pretty weird. Still, it seemed preferable to watching her husband being beaten within inches of his life, so she parted her legs slightly in the hopes of encouraging him to avoid engaging Caesar in an ill-advised physical confrontation.

Chris hesitated for a second, but eventually began to approach the bed. Andrea was extremely nervous for a moment. She wasn’t sure exactly what Chris was going to do once he reached the bed, and from the look of things he wasn’t completely sure either. His eyes seemed to dart between Caesar and her, as if he was carefully weighing his options.

It wasn’t until he reached the bed that he made up his mind. Lowering his gaze to her crotch, he timidly crawled into bed and placed his head between her legs. It was a strange feeling for Andrea – just having Chris’s head between her thighs felt foreign even ignoring her present circumstance – but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Though she normally would have felt somewhat self-conscious and even embarrassed in her position at that moment she felt oddly empowered. Obeying her dominant urges, she reached down, grabbed Chris by the hair, and guided his face the rest of the way in.

Chris might have been hesitant before, but the instant his tongue touched Andrea’s sensitive flesh all of that hesitation seemed to vanish. He seemed to have completely forgotten his distaste for giving oral sex; if Andrea were to criticize his technique it would only be because it was too eager. Diving in without reservations he forced his tongue as deeply into her as he could, slurping out as much of the foreign sperm as he could manage.

Andrea’s initial reaction was amusement – the way that Chris was going to town on her was almost comical. Disarmed by the spectacle of it all she accidentally laughed before she caught herself and realized that Chris might view her laughter at him as intensely disrespectful. Strangely, however, Chris didn’t seem to mind. She was certain that he had heard her laugh – he’d have to have been deaf not to – and yet he didn’t slow down in the slightest. If anything, he only intensified his efforts.

Suspecting that Chris was actually motivated by the humiliation, Andrea decided to find out for sure. She let out another laugh, a bit more forced and less organic than the last. Unlike the first laugh which had been inspired by the absurdity of the situation, this time she was laughing directly at Chris himself. Confirming her theory, Chris submissively forced his tongue deep inside of her.

The realization that Chris did apparently get off on humiliation was surprising to Andrea – he had always been so thin-skinned and prickly that she never would have guessed that secretly he craved being laughed at. More importantly, however, it freed her. With the understanding that Chris actually enjoyed being hurt she no longer felt all too bad about what was happening. The guilt rapidly evaporating, she no longer felt the need to hold herself back at all.

Reaching back down, she again grabbed Chris by his hair. Instead of pulling him into her, however, he pulled his head up. As Chris stared at her in nervous anticipation, she reached forward with her free hand and slapped him across the face hard. A look of terrible confusion came over his face, but she didn’t really care. Pressing down on Chris’s head she forced him back between her legs to continue his task.

That’s for hiding what a decent cum-rag you are from me for all those years, she explained as she felt Chris’s tongue once again enter her. Just think of all the time I wasted letting you fuck me when I should have been fucking other guys and having you clean up after them. You’re a lousy fuck, Chris, and Caesar is right – you always will be no matter what you do. You’re not half bad at sucking me clean, though, and we could have saved countless tissues if I had only known this sooner.

Chris’s face went bright red with shame. Andrea worried a bit that she might have pushed too far, but he didn’t stop licking her so she figured it was probably okay. She might have to explain herself later, but that was bound to happen anyway. Besides, Chris’s licking was providing a powerful distraction. Though she never would have really expected it, he was actually doing a fairly decent job at cunnilingus. He couldn’t match Caesar’s skill earlier, of course, but between the utter taboo of the situation and the emotional exhaustion she was feeling she suspected that she might actually be able to reach orgasm again from Chris’s tongue.

While Chris continued to lick away, Caesar wrapped his arm around Andrea’s shoulder tightly. Glancing over at him, she saw what looked like approval in his eyes. Emboldened by that, she decided to push Chris further.

I suppose what’s important is that we know now, she half-lectured, half-moaned. From now on, we won’t have to waste any more time pretending that you’re worth fucking. I hope you remember the last time you had that pathetic thing you call a dick inside of me – I know I sure don’t – because it’s never going to happen again. If you’re good, though, I might just let you clean me out after Caesar fucks me. I have a feeling that’s going to be happening quite a lot, and you know – it’s just cheaper to use your tongue than tissue paper.

From her angle it almost looked to Andrea like Chris was starting to sob. She probably would have felt a little bad about the things that she had said if it wasn’t for the fact that she could also see that his right arm had slipped underneath his body and his right shoulder was flexing in a rhythmic manner. To her shock and amusement, she realized that he might have been crying, but he was jerking off as well.

Jesus fucking Christ, she exclaimed, are you actually jerking off? For fuck’s sake, Chris, I just told you that you were an acceptable sperm mop and you’re already doing your best to prove me wrong. I can’t believe that I have to tell you this, but a good cunt-rag absolutely would not play with its worthless little peewee. If you really feel the urge to play with that pathetic little stub then you ought to focus on doing your job right – if you’re good, I might just give you permission to go to the bathroom when you’re done and rub one out, provided you keep the noise down and remember to clean up after yourself.

Chris let out a quiet groan and began to cry a little bit harder, but he didn’t stop licking. With tears streaming down his face he managed to remove his hand from his crotch and place it on the bed where Andrea could see it. She felt terribly cruel for forbidding him even the simplest act of self-pleasure, but she was okay with that. At the moment, cruelty felt hot – and it was pushing her quickly towards orgasm.

You know, she continued, lost in the moment, now that I think of it, I don’t think you should be playing with yourself at all in my presence anymore. Just thinking about all the disappointment that sorry excuse for a penis of yours has brought me is borderline traumatic, and I just think it would be easier for everyone if we were to pretend that it didn’t exist at all – I mean, for all practical purpose it really doesn’t anyway. From now on, you’ll keep that shriveled little thing out of my sight unless I request otherwise – and trust me, I doubt I’ll be requesting otherwise. Understood, bitch?

She could hardly believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. She might have thought such things in the past silently, but she’d never speak them aloud – much less address her husband as bitch. Still, saying the things made her feel good, and the way that Chris nervously nodded while continuing to suck her clean suggested that she could actually get away with it. She wondered just how much further she could push before Chris pushed back, but decided that she could figure that out later. Chris had gotten enough attention for the night, and it was time for her to focus on herself.

We’ll hash out the details later, she moaned, but for now, just focus on being a good little cum rag and making me cum. If you manage to pull it off – and that’s a big if, seeing as you’ve never managed it before – not only will I squeeze even more of Caesar’s delicious sperm into your mouth, but I might just give you permission to use the bathroom afterwards in order to take care of your own disgusting needs.

Chris did as we was told and continued to lick away. His technique was far from perfect – his jaw seemed to be tiring and his quiet sobs were slightly distracting – but it was okay. The situation itself was extremely hot to Andrea, more than hot enough to make up for Chris’s lack of oral proficiency. It took a good amount of time, but eventually Andrea found herself on the brink of orgasm. Remembering what Caesar had made her promise she asked his permission first, enjoying the humiliation she was certain that Chris must be feeling in hearing his wife ask another man for permission to cum even though he was the one doing the work. Caesar quickly agreed.

It wasn’t the most powerful orgasm, of course. Frankly, she had cum harder from masturbation in the past. It was, however, real – and the first one that Chris had ever managed to give her in all of the years that they had been together. She was okay with the lack of intensity; she figured she had Caesar for when she wanted to cum hard and anything that Chris managed was just a bonus. All told, she felt more sexually satisfied at that moment than she had ever felt in her entire life.

You did okay, Chris, she stated, basking in the afterglow. Not great – but great is a bit more than we can expect from you anyway. You can go to the bathroom and do your thing, now – I have to say good night to my boyfriend here. Don’t forget to clean up after yourself like a good cum rag, of course.

Chris quickly headed to the bathroom with his head hanging low, apparently eager to get the orgasm that he had been denied. Andrea felt like she should feel bad for him – he had taken an awful lot of abuse, after all – yet she just couldn’t seem to feel any guilt at all. She was entirely too satisfied to mess around with remorse, and besides, it wasn’t like sex acts with Chris didn’t routinely end with her frustrated in the past. Ignoring Chris’s plight, she turned to Caesar and kissed him deeply on the mouth.

So what happens next? she asked, Was all that talk about being your girlfriend just an act? I’m not going to go all school-girl and freak out on you if this was a one-time thing, but I need to know: Will I ever see you again?

Of course you will, he smiled back warmly. I meant what I said, every single word of it. And hey, at the very least? I still have to come back to finish installing your TV at some point, right?

Continue reading with chapter five.