His wife nudged him in the ribs as they stood at the bar. "Look at her. Tell me she isn't on the prowl."

He looked in the direction his wife was nodding. There, at the end of the bar, was a stunning woman dressed all in black. Her dress was short, low-cut, revealing, and expensive. Her earrings were large, the diamonds quite real. The diamond choker around her neck was also real, and even more expensive. And while she could not see the black garters, the fishnet stockings, of the high-heeled black shoes, she could imagine them.

Trying not to look too enthused, he nodded. "Yeah. Wonder if she's looking for anyone in particular."

His wife mumbled something and went back to looking around the room. The party was invitation only, five hundred dollars a plate. They had been invited thanks to his connections at his company. Why the woman had been invited, his wife could only imagine.

He smiled inwardly as he looked back at the woman. He recognized the earrings and the choker - he had been with her when she had selected them. He knew the stockings and heels were there, too.

It had also been a subtle remark by him that had gotten her invited to this party. And there had been only one reason.

The woman looked up, catching his eye. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, and she demurely lowered her gaze, only to look back up and stare at him, her eyes now smoldering.

He felt a stir as he leaned against the bar. He had his escape plan all ready, and it now went into action.

At the end of the bar, the woman casually reached into her purse. Removing a cell phone, she dialed a number, then looked up at him again with that same knowing expression.

His pager beeped insistently.

"Damn. Who the hell is this?", he muttered, knowing very well who.

His wife looked at him, crestfallen.

He looked up to find the woman walking away from the bar, her hips undulating, slipping the phone back into her purse.

He looked at his pager again, feeling his face flushing with excitement.

"Jim at the office. He's working on the Morgan account."

"That's one of the big ones you're trying for, isn't it?", his wife asked, her voice indicating her resignation that he would be leaving.

"Yeah, and if Jim's having problems, they must be real problems."

"That's true. Want me to come with you?"

"Well...no, you'd better stay here and put in an appearance for us. I'll take care of this as fast as I can and meet you back here."

"OK. I'll have them put your meal in a doggie bag for you."

He laughed, feeling just a bit guilty. But not much. His wife, while extremely competent in social circles, just wasn't what he wanted in bed.

The woman at the bar, however, was everything he'd ever wanted.

With a quick kiss, he left her there, and hurried towards the door. But once out of her sight, instead of leaving, he went through an fire door leading to a stairwell. He went up two flights as arranged, went through the fire door, and found the unused office they had decided upon.

She was waiting, her arms wrapping around him as soon as he closed the door behind him.

"Mmmm, that's nice", she whispered, as his hands roamed her body.

"It gets better", he chuckled, nibbling at the base of her throat.

Laughing, she stepped back and grabbed his necktie.

"How's Miss Prim and Proper these days?"

"My wife is fine, thank you", he said. It sometimes galled him that she was so free with her comments about his wife. After all, she WAS his wife, even if he cheated on her several times a month.

He pulled his tie back, thought for a moment, then removed it. She grinned and reached for the buttons on his collar, but he stopped her.

"No, not yet. This is a black tie party, right?"

She nodded, puzzled.

"Yeah. So?"

"So one of us has to wear the tie."

Before she could react, he was pushing her backwards. She cried out as he grabbed her hands and raised them above her head. There, a strong bracket for a bookshelf protruded several inches, and he quickly looped one end of the tie through it. She looked up, eyes wide, as he tied her wrists together and bound them to the bracket.

Seconds later, she stood there, arms fastened above her head, staring at him in shock.

"What the hell...?"

"Like I said, black tie. If I don't wear it, you have to. But no one said it had to be around your pretty neck."

She gasped as he leaned forward and again nipped at her throat.

"JESUS, what's got into you tonight?"

"Maybe the question should be, what's going to get into you?"

He slid her dress up and placed his hand on her mound. She moaned softly, eyes closed, knees sagging. He traced the cleavage of her dress with his tongue, and she moaned louder.

"You shouldn't make so much noise", he cautioned. He stepped back, took his handkerchief from his pocket, and shoved it roughly into her mouth.

"MMHMMHMMMMPPHPHPHPPHHHHHMHMMH!!!"

Her eyes were wide, and it was now from fear. He had never acted like this before, and she didn't like it.

He knelt between her legs, pushing them apart. She tried to resist but he was too strong, holding her knees wide open easily. She stared down as his head disappeared beneath her short dress.

Her head tilted back, her eyes closed, as she felt his tongue dancing over her panties. He removed his hand from her leg, but she made no attempt to close her legs. A second later she felt a sharp sting as he snapped one of her garters against her well-muscled thigh.

She tried to cry out, could not. It was so hard to be angry at him, now that his hands were reaching up, squeezing her breasts, and his lips were pressing against her panties.

He reached inside her dress, under her bra, and pinched her nipple. Her eyes snapped open in surprise, and again she tried to holler, but the handkerchief made it impossible.

He stood up and pulled her dress up over her hips, then stood there grinning at her, his eyes upon her dampening panties.

"Hmm. Your cunt's getting a bit moist. What's getting into you?"

She gazed at him, confused, aroused, and scared. What had gotten into HIM?

"Tsk, tsk. Cat got your tongue? You're usually a bit more vocal."

Now she glared at him, the anger slowly replacing her arousal.

He laughed.

"My wife said you looked like you were on the prowl tonight."

She watched as he undid his pants and dropped them to the floor. His cock sprang out from his boxers, waving in the air in front of him. He kicked his shoes off and removed his pants the rest of the way.

"Is this what you were prowling for?"

She stared at his engorged member, becoming more aroused in spite of herself. Damn, that thing was big.

"Let's hear it, baby. Is this what you want?"

She nodded, her eyes fixed upon his cock.

"You must think I'm an asshole, don't you?"

Surprised, she looked quickly up at him. He gazed back at her with a peculiar expression.

"I mean, my wife is waiting for me downstairs, and here I am with you, getting ready to fuck you until you pass out."

Her heart beat quicker. Oh, she wanted that thing inside her. To hell with his frumpy bitch of a wife.

"And you think I'm an asshole for cheating on her, don't you?"

She shook her head no, violently.

"Oh, sure you do. But you need this as much as I do, so you don't say anything. I'm right, aren't I?"

Again, she shook her head no, staring at him with pleading eyes. She didn't want to talk, she wanted to fuck.

"I'll tell you something. You're one hell of a good-looking woman, and you're one of the best fucks I've ever had."

She frowned. Wait a minute. ONE OF the best fucks?

He laughed at her expression.

"Oh, that pisses you off? Did you ever wonder if I'm not seeing someone else behind BOTH of your backs?"

She blinked. She had never considered that idea. But to think that she wasn't enough for him, to think that he went elsewhere to find sexual satisfaction, made her blood boil.

Wait a minute.

Is this how his wife would feel?

Totally confused, she shook her head, unable to sort things out in her mind. She hung from the bracket, wiggling back and forth to allow what little friction her panties provided to keep her pussy warm.

Laughing, he moved closer to her. She tried to back away, not really sure why.

"That's a new thought, isn't it?", he whispered as he slid his hand inside her panties. He stared into her wide eyes as his finger slipped into her drenched cunt.

As he fingered her, he listened with a smile to her muffled moans and cries of pleasure. After a moment, he reached up and undid his necktie from the bracket, then loosened her wrists.

But only for a moment. Even as she was flexing her hands, he pulled them around behind her neck in an almost painful position. And then he bound them together again, right behind her neck.

He stood admiring his handiwork.

"There. I guess you won't be going anywhere."

His shorts were removed, leaving him naked from the waist down but for his dress socks. He reached over and pulled the hanky from her mouth, warning her not to say anything at all.

She could not help staring at his throbbing cock. Damn, why all the mind games, why the bullshit? Just FUCK ME, for Christ's sake.

He lay down on the floor on his back and spread his legs.

"Come here. Get right between there and suck my cock."

She really didn't have a choice. While her feet were free, she could not run, not with her arms like this. Where would she go? Meekly, and yet with a strange thrill of anticipation, she knelt between his legs and took him into her mouth. Her pantied ass bobbed back and forth in the air as she worked, but there was no one to admire it. Her arms pinned awkwardly behind her, she sucked frantically, hoping to make him cum quickly so he would untie her.

And things did move quickly. Closer and closer he came, his hands in her hair, messing up her expensive style. His body tensed, his back arched.

Just a few seconds, she knew, working even harder now.

A strange yet familiar sound barely penetrated their passions. But the next sound instantly got the attention of both of them.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"

She whirled around to see his wife standing in the door, staring at them with an expression that could kill.

He was too far gone to react right away. Even as her lips slid off his cock for the last time, he came.

Grunting, he shot his load, but her mouth was no longer their to receive it. His jism arced up, raining down on her, covering her hair and her dress and the floor. Shuddering, he looked towards the door through half-closed eyes.

"Oh...oh...oh, SHIT", he hissed, as his body tensed once more. A stream of cum dribbled from his cock, making little difference in the mess he had already made.

"You son of a BITCH! I called Jim to see how you were doing. He was surprised to hear from me, and said there was no problem. I've been waiting down there with all those fucking stuffed shirts while you've been here playing with your little dolly here. Well, mister, let me tell you something, I'm not going to stand for this kind of shit from an asshole like you."

Slamming the door, she stalked towards them.

The woman stood, her face white as death. Where could she run, with her arms tied? What would she say to anyone who saw her.

But his wife had been standing at the door for several moments, and had seen her well-rounded bottom hovering in the air. And she had already made her plans of revenge.

The woman looked at her pleadingly, her eyes begging his wife to untie her, to remove the gag. But his wife ignored her, standing beside her wide-eyed, gasping, red-faced husband.

"Honey...Listen...I swear...I never...she...this is..."

"Shut up, asshole."

He shut up.

"Can't get enough from me, huh? Have to go elsewhere, huh? You like your little friend here, huh? Well, buster, you just lie there and watch."

He stared in stunned astonishment as his wife quickly stripped naked, throwing her expensive outfit into a far corner of the room. The woman, too, was staring at her, her mind reeling. This wasn't supposed to happen. He had promised that his wife would never find out. Oh, God...

His wife motioned to him.

"Stand up, you bastard."

He did, as quickly as possible, stumbling to his feet amidst a large stain on the carpet. He paid no attention to it.

His wife grabbed an office chair and pushed it towards him.

"Sit down and don't move."

He did so, trying to come up with a plausible explanation for what he had been doing, and realizing there was no chance of it.

His wife lay on the floor and pointed to his young lover.

"Come here, bitch. Get down on your dainty little hands and knees and lick my pussy, just like you were licking his cock."

They both stared at her like she had gone insane. She lay there, her nipples taut, her salon-toned body tanned and supple.

No one moved.

"NOW, BITCH, LICK MY CUNT!!!"

Not really knowing why, the woman walked towards where his wife lay waiting on the floor. She was not really bad-looking, the woman realized. How bad could she be, that her husband would want more?

"I've never...I mean, not with a woman...", she stammered.

"You think I give a shit? I don't. You just kneel here and stick your tongue into my pussy. You'll get the idea quick enough."

As if in a dream, the woman slowly sank to her knees, staring at his wife's beckoning slit. Dark hair framed that mysterious place, thick and dark and full.

But it wasn't mysterious, the woman realized. I know how to make myself cum. What's the difference?

She leaned over, inhaling his wife's aroma. His wife watched with a satisfied smile as the woman closed her eyes and nestled between her legs.

Her husband sat there, gaping, his soggy cock already rigid.

"Oh, yeah, little girl, right there. Oh, yeah. Yeah, little bitch, lick me, lick my clit. Think about it, girl, your face is buried between a woman's legs, a REAL woman. A woman who knows how to please you better than any man ever could."

The woman thought about that as she hesitantly probed his wife's sex. She might be right, she thought. Maybe a woman does know how to please another woman better than a man can.

And she tried a bit harder.

His wife laughed aloud as the first tremor hit her.

"Yeah, baby girl, right there. You found it, honey. You found it. You just keep doing that and you'll be fine. Yeah, honey, yeah, make me cum, honey, do things to me that this asshole never even thought of."

The woman paused for a second. His wife grinned wickedly, knowing what she was thinking.

She IS right, the woman knew. We could make each other feel good without him, and I wouldn't have to put up with his bullshit. She tried even harder, her face glistening with his wife's juices.

He sat there, listening to the slurping sounds, watching the smile on his wife's face grow and grow. He listened, watched, as his wife came, then came again, and again, and again.

His wife began laughing out loud.

"Oh, yeah, baby girl, we'll show this asshole what it takes to please a woman."

She sat up, and the woman straightened. His wife reached for her, and she cringed. To her surprise, his wife loosened the tie from her wrists, freeing her.

"Thank...thank you...I'm...I'm sorry..."

"Shut up, bitch."

The woman stared at her, looking almost hurt.

"Stand up."

The woman obeyed, and she arose as well.

"Strip. Now. All the way down. Give him a show, make him want it, then watch his face as he finds he can't have it."

Slowly at first, then with increasing speed and enjoyment, the woman removed her dress, her bra, shoes, garters, stockings, and panties. Nude, she stood right in front of him, giggling and whirling around to give him an overall view of her nude body. He reached for her.

"I SAID DON'T MOVE, ASSHOLE!!!", his wife thundered.

He fell back into his chair in shock.

His wife reached for the woman.

"Kiss me, little girl. Kiss me hard."

Her eyes wide, the startled woman's lips were pressed against those of his wife. He stared helplessly as, slowly, the woman's eyes closed, her arms slowly went around his wife.

They kissed deeply, passionately, their hands caressing soft flesh.

For some time, he sat watching the two women please each other in ways he had never imagined. The way they used their fingers, their tongues, their bodies. The things they seemed to know instinctively, instead of having learned through awkward experience as he had.

Their cries struck deep inside him, making him realize that he probably never could please them the way they could please each other.

Long after, they lay together on the floor, arms around each other, giggling softly. He stared silently, his cock aching. Every time he had tried to stroke himself, his wife had noticed and told him to stop.

His wife whispered into the woman's ear. Grinning, they stood and faced him, both their bodies cum- and sweat-stained. He watched them, aching for release.

"You're a bit hard there, asshole", his wife commented.

"Honey, please..."

"SHUT UP. You don't make the decisions any more. I do."

He stared at her, not quite understanding what he had just heard.

"Listen, you. You lost your little play toy. You won't be seeing her again, but I'm sure all the trinkets you bought her won't go to waste."

"You see, in order to make sure you don't see her again, I'm going to see her instead. So from now on, whenever I'm not home, YOU can wonder where I am. You'll never know. Am I really at the store? Or am I with her, feeling things you could never in a million years make me feel? You'll never know."

Crushed, he looked at them, and to his surprise, felt tears in his eyes.

"Honey.."

"Jesus, don't you ever learn? Just SHUT UP. I don't want to hear you. I don't want your lame excuses, they don't matter any more. You lost her. You may or may not have lost me. But you still have one thing."

He looked at her curiously, and saw a wide smile form on both their faces.

"Your hand. And you'll be needing it. Like, right now. Fuck your fist. We want to watch, and it's all you'll be getting for a while anyway."

He hesitated for a split-second, then gave in. He was so hard it hurt, and he wouldn't have cared if a whole girl's choir was watching.

He grabbed his cock and started stroking.

His wife took the woman's hand, and they stood quietly, watching as he came closer and closer. Finally he gasped, his muscles jerked mightily, and he came.

He recovered to find the women helping each other dress. His wife was carefully wiping the cum-stains from the woman's dress as best she could, but there were still thick masses of jism in her hair.

"We'll have to sneak out the back way, but I guess you're used to that, aren't you, little girl?"

The woman opened her mouth for a sharp reply, but the expression on his wife's face stopped her cold. She realized that, even though she had been granted a reprieve, she was still under sentence.

Nodding, her face flaring, the woman strapped on her heels.

His wife turned to him, slumped weakly in the chair, trying with not much success to figure out how things were going to be from now on.

"We're going home, asshole. I'm sure you'll find a way. Good luck."

With that, she picked up his trousers, took the woman's hand, and left, blowing him a kiss as the door closed.

"Oh, SHIT", he groaned at the uncaring ceiling. He had to laugh then. His wife had taken his pants. How the hell was he going to get home?

On the main floor, his wife found an unoccupied waiter. She handed him the trousers, ignoring the young man's puzzled expression as he gazed at the woman beside her.

"Here", she said, slipping him twenty dollars along with the pants. "Take these up to the third floor, second office on the right as you get off the elevators. I think the person in there misplaced them."

She turned on her heel and they were gone, leaving the waiter gaping at two well-formed, swaying asses.

Her husband had dressed as best as he could, and was looking for a telephone when the door opened.

"SHIT", he muttered, crouching behind a desk.

"Anyone here?", a timid voice called.

"Who is it?"

"Um... well... I have... um... your... pants?"

He stood behind the desk, and could not fight back the laughter. The waiter, totally off balance, threw the pants into the room and retreated as quickly as he could.

He found a cab without much trouble. Once home, he went straight upstairs, only to find his bedroom door locked.

Pressing his ear to the door, he heard moans, some soft, some not so. Sharp cries of ecstasy. Long groans of drawn-out passion.

Trembling, he stumbled into the bathroom and took an ice-cold shower, wondering what the morning would bring.