Now don’t start thinking that John and I didn’t fuck. Oh, believe me, we fucked. I just feel that I should tell the story how it happened. There is no point glossing over details that really help to explain how and why things went the way they did. Maybe it’s true that the devil is in the details.
John was thick. As a woman of colour, I’ve heard all the stories that say black men are the biggest, and whatever other stereotypes are out there. But John was one of those guys who carried what I like to call a “dad dick”. His cock was only about six and half inches, but was so thick around the tip and shaft that I couldn’t even sing my ABCs after he banged me out.
We started on the bed, and over the next forty minutes moved to the sofa, my kitchen table, a windowsill in the bathroom, and on all fours in the hallway against a wall. In the midst of the assault I remember John hooking a thumb into my asshole and slamming away at my soft wetness. Eventually tears ran down my cheeks from the overlap of orgasms that hit me like waves at sea. I couldn’t even remember how he got back in after leaving to pick up condoms from the drug store, I was so washed with ecstasy. After what felt like hours, John slowed down his massive cock train and with three hard thrusts emptied his balls into the condom that separated us. My leg slipped down from its elevated position and I fell asleep shortly after.
The next couple hours were a blur. I know John stayed the night. I also know that he turned off my cell phone. When I awoke the next morning John was beside me in bed, and by the looks of it, had a very large morning erection. My mind was swimming. Partly because I remembered trying to get him to stop the initial contact that led to all of this. I remembered saying no. I couldn’t remember exactly why I wanted him to stop until the glint of light reflecting off of his wedding band caught my eye.
Married. Shit.
I’m not one to play the blame game on who did what, I’m fully aware of the fact that it takes two to tango- obviously. But at that moment the only thing my mind couldn’t understand is why he didn’t stop. I had thought older white men were supposed to be the utmost of gentlemen.
“Good morning Samantha. Boy, do you look good.” John smiled as he awoke and turned towards me.
“Morning. How did you sleep?” I asked a bit curtly for someone in my situation. John didn’t answer. He moved closer to me and pulled me into an embrace.
“Stop for a second.” I muttered, not sure of whether I wanted him to seduce me again.
“Sorry, did you say something?” John pulled back to look at my face. “I really should be honest, since it looks like our relationship is going further. You see, I have a hearing problem on my right side. Sometimes it completely cuts out, and I have to rely on my left one ear. I usually wear a hearing assist device, but…well I didn’t want you to think that I was a geezer.”
I thought it was quite funny, and adorable, so I laughed and gave John a big hug. “You aren’t that much older than I am” I said to reassure him.
“How old are you exactly Sam?”
“I’m thirty. How old are you?”
He smiled and caressed my cheek, “I’ll tell you one day.”
The next few days at work went well. The bosses kept hinting that my promotion would be imminent if this case concluded well. John and I were doing a pretty good job at keeping our adulterous weekend a secret, and I found that a solid friendship seemed to be growing between us. He had his ticks of course; like always needing to be in control of certain things at work, or even a few comments he made to me about people I was in photos with when I showed him my Facebook page. Since I knew he was still married I suppose I brushed it off as having to do with that- and that being the other woman, even for a short time, would not be a fairy tale situation. I believed that he wished he could be in those photos, or have shared those memories with me.
I thought the emotion displayed in his eyes were of regret.
I was beginning to see that John was all about control. He needed to have the ultimate say in whatever went on around him. I noticed it first when my door was locked after he came to visit, and also when he took my body our first time. They were hot couplings, however his hearing seemed to disable itself at the most opportune times, blocking out what would have been my protestations to not cross the line. Could I say that he forced me? Well, not exactly. He ultimately gave me what I wanted- but how often do we want things that will lead us to self-harm?
Everything changed on the second last day of our scheduled work arrangement. Pat called a meeting in the boardroom in my regular work area.
“Samantha, John, I cannot tell you enough how much your hard work has been appreciated in these weeks. On behalf of myself and the other managers, I must commend you on your dedication.” Pat spoke with pride and kindness to the filled room of colleagues including John and myself. John looked over at me with a warm smile.
“Now I have an announcement to make regarding some staffing changes.” Pat went on. I felt a churning in my stomach that I normally get when I feel a big change about to occur.
“We have recently had a vacancy on our management board. In the past few weeks, we have seen excellent work from one particular individual who has made it clear that they would like to give that much more of their hard work to our team. I am proud to announce that John from our sister office will be transferring to our location to fill the vacant managerial position! John please stand up, and let’s have a round of applause!”
John stood, and my stomach hit the ground. I was shocked. As the room filled with applause and the smiling faces of everyone lined my vision, I began to feel a hot burning anger of betrayal. He had never mentioned wanting to move here-as I had surely mentioned my desire to move up in the company. Not to mention that the prospect of working under him now that I had literally been under him seemed like the definition of unfair. I was slighted by someone I should have been able to trust.
After the meeting I feigned a migraine and told Pat I was going home early.
“Sam, I know you had your eyes on the manager position.” She began slowly. “However, it’s company policy that all lateral transfer requests be given priority over promotions.”
“John asked for a transfer?” I questioned.
“Yes, a few days into the project he made a written request for the opening. I believe he said that he would be moving his family here too.”
My heart sank to meet where my stomach already was. I quickly left the office and headed home to bury myself in a mountain of fudge brownie ice cream and Netflix. I wasn’t looking to break up his life, but I really didn’t think this relationship would exist past our project. I figured that once the project was over, I’d be a manager and he would be an hour or two away with his family. Now, not only did I have my opportunity to lead taken away from me; I also now had to deal with the romantic entanglements of a superior who I had slept with.
What if he expected the relationship to continue while we worked together? Or what if he took out his frustrations at home on me? I was also afraid of becoming embarrassed at work: if anyone found out about us my reputation of a strictly professional administrator would be tarnished. My mind swam with worry and doubt on my way home. I began to plot ways out of my situation; one of them being to completely quit my job and look for other opportunities. I was angry, and I needed to spite him.
When I arrived home, I saw two messages on my phone: one from my mother and one from John. Ignoring the messages, I plunked down on the sofa and began to cry. I was completely overwhelmed. I had been so sure that I would be next in line for a promotion. I worked very hard to prove myself; just to see it handed to someone who already had attained that level somewhere else, but seemingly wanted to humiliate me. What could have possibly been in John’s mind? Was I just a play thing for him? Was he attracted to danger so much that he would risk moving his family to a town where he had taken a lover? I cried until I couldn’t anymore, and fell asleep in front of the television.
Around 8 p.m. I awoke. I had turned off the ringer on my phone when I got home, so that I could be upset in peace. I looked at the screen and saw that there were four messages now. The same two messages from earlier, and another two from John.
Strange.
I was about to play the first message when a knock came from the door.
“Sam, it’s John. Are you alright?” The voice said through the door.
I sat motionless, not wanting to betray myself being in the apartment.
“I know you’re in there, just open the door and talk to me. I’m sorry about today…about not telling you my plans. I know this is my fault.”
I shuffled to the door and unlocked the bolt. I didn’t bother opening the door since I knew he would come right in. When I turned around to face him I folded my arms and readied myself for the bullshit parade that would be his excuse.
John brought in a large grocery bag and sat it on the counter top. “Samantha, I know you must be very upset with me. Pat mentioned that you had your heart set on that position- and I took that away from you.” He approached me and took me in his arms to hug me.
As he hugged me I looked up into his eye and saw blackness. His eyes had darkened where I normally could see right into them. He kissed me then, and I unfolded my arms in surrender. I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt toward him. It was wrong to have these feelings for a married man, but something told me that he felt the same desire for me.
We kissed a bit longer and I decided to lead him to the bedroom. I lay on my back with my legs spread as he probed my wetness with his fingers. He started with one finger, and worked up to two as I moaned into his kiss and spread my legs wider for his grip. John began to pound his fingers into my softness until I cried out and came in shuddering waves. Once the crashing subsided, John broke our kiss and moved down my body. He began to taste my juices. I could hear and feel his tongue devouring all of the proceeds of our foreplay as he went up and down my clit with his wide tongue. I was totally spent when he finished, and barely noticed when he got up and walked to the bag in the kitchen he had set down earlier. He walked in his jeans, shirtless to the kitchen and returned with rope and other things I couldn’t quite identify.
I didn’t understand at first when he slipped the first rope around my left wrist, then my right. As he anchored them together I began to clue in that he was going to make this kinky.
“What are you planning Johnny-boy?” I asked seductively as I allowed him to finish this hog tie as he secured my ankles together.
“Shut your mouth Samantha.” He grunted. “Now it’s time for you to shut that mouth.”
I figured that he was playing around. I’m no angel; I’ve been around the block, so I know that kinky sex goes well with kinky words. You have to act the part if it’s going to be good.
“I bet your wife doesn’t let you get away with this kind of stuff eh Johnny boy?” I continued on to rile him up further, when John’s stiff right hand flew across my face to give me a hard slap. The stinging feeling was sudden and unexpected. A few tears welled up in my eyes as I readjusted from the pain.
“Ouch!” I cried. “That hurt John.” I sobbed. He stayed silent as he finished the last few knots. He wasn’t playing around.
“You are going to be my play thing tonight. Just a little fuck toy.”
John had my wrists bound together in a little number that I had once seen at this leather shop in Toronto. The grain was high quality-supple, but firm on my wrists.
My ankles were bound to each other. When he positioned my knees toward my chest I felt hog tied.
“Don’t say a word.”
He began to rub my lower lips and backdoor with some sort of lubrication. He dipped each finger one by one into my tight asshole; pushing deeper with each new round of fingers until he could fit his entire middle finger into my asshole.
My positioning made it extremely easy for him to assault my entry, and after working enough lubrication into my ass he positioned his bare cock against me and began to push his way in. I just kept watching the scene in my mind, of us, making kinky sex acts in my apartment.
My eyes poured tears as John fucked my ass at a pace that did not betray any true consideration for my comfort. “Mmm…” He groaned while taking a rhythm. I closed my eyes, and allowed my body to be taken.
After he finished, he got out of bed and left me there to enter the hallway and not quite close the door behind him. I could hear him dial his cellphone and begin speaking to someone.
Must have been his wife, because he lied and said he was sitting at his desk in his office
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