The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for adults in locations in which it is
legal.  If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT read.  This is a copyrighted work.  Reposting or
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except may be posted as part of a  review or posted to free-access, noncommercial archive sights.

Copyright 1998, 1999 by E. Z. Riter.

Please!  Give me your comments.

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com

MY BOSS' SLUT

Part Two

I got off early from work on Friday to go home.   I wanted to see how Becky was dressing for the
weekend. It would be her second time with Mr. Williams, my boss and her master.

As I told you, it was just last weekend when she had become my boss's slut, spending the
weekend with him.  She came back well fucked and happy and changed.  During the week, she
had not been with him.  She had only seen or talked to him on Thursday when he whipped her
with a willow branch in his office and fucked her ass as punishment for not having sex with me
on Wednesday night. He ordered her to keep me very happy and as his slut, she was expected to
obey all his orders, everyone. 

I was happy for Becky.  She was loving being his slut and getting the royal fucking she wanted. 
More importantly,  he was going to make her pregnant, fill her womb with his rich seed and give
her the child I never could give her.  

I was happy for me, too.  Our sex this week had been the best since the honeymoon. Becky had
sex with me every time I asked except for Wednesday night and she found out what that was like. 

I heard the shower go off as I walked in the bedroom.  When I entered the bath, she was drying
her shortish, curled blonde hair. It had been long and brown last weekend but a stylist selected by
my boss had changed that. Carefully, she dried her ears around the six tiny gold rings my boss
had installed.  

"Hi, Bobby," she said with a big smile.  "Come home to see me off?" 

"I wanted to tell my best girl goodbye for the weekend.  What are you going to do?" 

"I have no idea.  He just told me what to wear and to be ready at four."  

"Excited?" 


I could tell she was.  She was bubbling, almost delirious with happiness. She could hardly speak
without giggling.  Her big eyes were bright and shiny as she started curling her hair as he wanted
it curled. She sat naked at her dressing table, the dryer in one hand, a brush in the other.  

I could smell her pussy, She was flowing just thinking about being with my boss, Mr. Williams.
She had told me about last weekend. When she described his cock, I did not believe her.  But, I
saw him fuck her ass in his office and I had seen for myself.  He had a very big cock.  I knew that
big cock was making my little slut wife a happy woman. She began applying her makeup.   

"I did not know you wore that much," I said as she applied a heavy eyeshadow. 

"Oh, Mr. Williams, wants me to wear more.  He says I look more like a slut that way."  She
stopped to look up at me, the eye shadow pencil poised in the air.  "I am a slut, you know.  His
slut."

"Yes, I know," I answered softly.  She was a slut and she was Mr. Williams' slut, that was clear to
us all. 

She put on a bright red lipstick which matched her bright red finger and toe nails.  Still sitting,
she reached for her stockings. They were a sheer nylon, thigh high, but with a dark seam running
up the back.  She extended her shapely leg.  Humming, she worked the nylon over her painted,
pointed toes and sensually unrolled it up her leg. She stood and unrolled it over her thigh,
lovingly adjusting it until the seam was perfect.  Then, she sat and started on the other leg, giving
it the same tender care.  I knew she wanted to be perfect for him. 

A week ago, she would not have worn such clothes.  More significantly, no matter what she
wore, she would not have let me see her like this, dressing, naked after her bath. Now, she
enjoyed me looking. She stopped, one leg extended with the stocking to her knee, the other bent
and already finished.  She gave me a slutty look. 

"You're hard.  What caused it?" 

"Why, you, of course." 

"No. I mean seeing me dress or thinking of your boss' big cock reaming out my tender pussy."

That was a good question. Of course, seeing her made me hard, but never this hard. I could not
get out of my mind the picture of her tied over his desk as she fucked her ass.  She was bound at
arms and legs, spread. He fucked her so gloriously.  I felt my cock twitch.  

"Both," I answered honestly, and it was.  I liked the idea of him fucking her.  I was anxiously
awaiting her bloated belly, fat from his child, or maybe from another man's child.  He had said
she would get pregnant from at least one of his friends.  

She smiled at me but it was a cunning smile, a demanding smile.  

"You like him fucking me, don't you?" 

"Yes.  I told you that." 

She sighed.  "I just wish you had told me earlier.  I could have been getting this good fucking
years ago." 

"Come here, you," she said with a smile.  "I am not going to leave you that way. I do not want
Mr. Williams to think I am not taking care of my husband." 

I walked the two steps to her.  She undid my belt and unzipped my pants and yanked down by
jockeys.  

"Oh, you are hard.  Let your boss' slut take care of that for you."   

She wrapped her lips around my cock, slurping nosily, her tongue active, the pressure
magnificent. I could not help myself. I shot into her hot mouth.  

"Oh, Bobby, you do come quickly, don't you?  That is another reason I am his slut. He lasts all
night.  Let's do it again. I did not even break a sweat."  

She kept sucking on me.  I felt my cock harden again. Her head was a blur as she worked back
and forth on me, back and forth. Oh, God, it felt good, so good. She would never even touch my
cock before, now here she was blowing me like a world champion whore, all thanks to my boss,
to Mr. Williams.  Finally, I shot in her mouth again.  She let me soften there, sucking all the cum
from me.  When she pulled away, I looked down.  My cock was red, bright red, covered in her
lipstick.  

"Much better.  Now, Bobby, I want you to beat off at least three times Sunday afternoon before I
get home.  That way, you can last longer. Okay?" 

"Sure, Becky," I whispered as I rested against the counter. 

"Now, move. I need to get my shoes." 

She opened a new shoe box and removed a shoe.  It was brushed satin, soft and furry looking. It
was black and the heel was very high. 

"How high is that?" I asked. 
 
"Six inches.  I hope I can wear them all right."  

She pointed her sexy toes, tightening the muscles of her leg.  Becky has sexy legs, not thin like
some models but muscular with smaller ankles. She slipped the shoe on and fastened a strap
around her ankle.  Rummaging through the box, she removed a small lock, the kind on some
suitcases with the tiny key.  She slipped the lock hasp through the tiny hole in the ankle buckle
and pushed it shut with a click. I saw her shudder.  She rummaged through the shoe box again. 

"I can't find the keys.  I hope he has them," she said, as she started putting on the other shoe.  

When she stood, I had to admire her legs and ass.  The six inch heels shaped them wonderfully. I
could still see two faint red lines across her ass and another across her upper thigh where he had
whipped her Thursday. She turned to admire herself in the mirror.  

"Nice," she whispered under her breath. Yes, it was nice and more.  It was sexy as hell.

She walked to her closet, the high heels making her sway very invitingly. In a moment, she
slipped on her dress.  It was black, with a deep V to her waist. It had one snap, a large gold clamp
at her waist which held the two sides together. The dress fit a little loosely on top, allowing
people at the to view her entire breast if they saw her from the right angle.  And, when she
walked, the two pieces below opened.  She was going to have to be very careful or her pussy
would be revealed with each step.  

But that is what he wanted I am sure. He wanted her pussy flashing every time she moved. Could 
you see the ring? Yes. There it was, with that step.  Her bald pussy, freshly shaven by her just
now, with its gold ring glistening. 

She looked so good and I wanted to take her there again. She saw my expression. 

"Not enough time, honey. He will be here any minute." 

She opened a package from a large department store. Inside were gold bracelets, six for each
wrist. They would hang loosely and jangly. We heard the doorbell ring and I ran to answer it. 

"Come in, Mr. Williams." 

"Hello, Bob, Is my slut ready?" 

"Here I am," she said, bouncing towards the him, the dress revealing her pussy with each long,
sexy stride she took.  His eyes got hot when he saw her shaven snatch. She kissed, standing on
one foot, the other raised, as the raised her head to him. I saw his tongue go into her mouth.
Fortunately, she had used mouthwash after the swallowed my cum.  I did not mind taking another
man's cum from her, but I bet Mr. Williams would mind. 

"You look stunning, Becky," he said. 

"Thank you, kind sir," she replied coquettishly.

He pulled a jeweler's box from his pocket, opened it and withdrew a gold necklace.  It was a
chain about two inches wide. It looked like a heavy chain that would be used on a dog except in
gold instead of steel.  It had a small diamond hanging from it. 

"Turn around," he said.  He fastened the necklace around her neck.  It was a choker, fitting
tightly.  

Becky looked at me as her back was to him.  She was so hot, so sluttish, so wanting sex.  I had
never seen her like that.  I was so happy for her and for me. Mr. Williams took her arm and
walked her to the door.  

As they exited towards his limo, he turned to me and said, "Bobby. Call the school and tell them
there has been a death in the family and Becky will be out all next week.  She will not feel like
working.  Have a good weekend."

"You, too," I replied as he escorted my slut wife away.  She never looked back at me as I stared at
her swishing ass under her flimsy and expensive dress.     

It was a long weekend.  The house was so quiet, the day so empty. I could not get her out of my
mind. What was she doing at that second?  Was she fucking him?  Did he have her bent over a
chair? On her back?  Or, was it someone else? Who?  A friend? A business associate?  Maybe, it
was someone from the office, someone I knew. Maybe? 

I beat off, taking my smallish cock in my own hand.  I used cooking oil once, salad oil, then hand
lotion.  I was going to be an expert on lubricants and beating off by the time she returned. 

Where were they now?  At his house? A party?  My mind was going crazy.  

Where?   Who? 

It was six o'clock on Sunday evening when I saw his limo drive up in front. I opened the door and
stood waiting, waiting for her to walk out of it and come to me! Waiting to her about what had
happened! Waiting for my slut wife to tell me how she had been used!

The limo door opened . . . 


To be continued . . .  

Please!  Give me your comments.

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com


   
  

