MARITAL MARTYR

GENRE:  VOYEURISM – MALE/FEMALE

By Lucy Lee


           Justin parked his car in the lot and then ran the two blocks to his office building, elbowed his way into a crowded elevator and then waited impatiently to rise to the 40th floor.       

            Finally, he jumped out of the elevator and jogged past the reception area without even acknowledging the greeting from the busty young receptionist, Kylie, behind the desk. He made his way down the hallway past other just arrived coworkers and at last reached his small office, slipped inside and shut and locked the door, then stopped briefly to catch his breath.

            He moved quickly in behind his desk and sat down in his chair, popped open his company laptop and flicked it on. He drummed his fingers on the desk, waiting for the computer to become fully operational, which took all of twenty seconds.

            Justin moved the pointer and clicked on the camera icon on-screen, and the computer screen split into four images – of the exterior of his house in the suburbs. He licked his lips, his palms damp, his fingers trembling. There was a van in his driveway – ‘Furnace Men’ was painted in large orange letters on the side of the white trade van. Justin swallowed hard.

            He scrolled another four camera shots onto the computer screen, these ones of the interior of his modest home located in the quiet, leafy, outlying neighborhood. These angles showed his living room, kitchen, and two of the bedrooms on the first floor.

            And then Justin cursed himself and gritted his teeth. Of course, the furnace man would be down in the basement, where the furnace was. He scrolled again, and the four-squared screen showed him his basement, including the small, enclosed room next to the laundry room where the furnace was located – where his wife was getting fucked by the furnace man.

            Justin bit his lip and clicked onto that camera angle, so that one shot filled the screen now. Layla was down on her knees in front of a tall, thin guy, who had his grey jumpsuit uniform down around his ankles. He was gripping Layla’s blonde head and pumping his hips, thrusting his erect cock back and forth in her suctioning mouth.

            Justin clenched his small hands into fists, leaning forward in his chair, watching his wife getting her mouth fucked, watching her blow another man. She had her slender hands up on the man’s butt cheeks in back, gripping the clenching pair, her fingernails dug in, urging the grunting stranger on, taking all of his cock into her mouth; vaccing his organ tight and wet as it shifted rapidly back and forth in her mouth.

            He adjusted the volume, staring at the stunning scene on the computer screen. It was in clear, blazing color, the sound just as crisp and provocative. Justin was a tech expert, after all, knew all about wiring and surveillance. He watched Layla ardently suck the man’s cock, hearing his urgent groans and her excited slurping. And then, with his eyes still glued to the screen, he pushed back in his chair and tore his suit pants open, sprang up and shoved his pants and briefs down, dropped back into his office chair again, his hard, throbbing cock in his right hand.

            Justin glared at his wife blowing the furnace man, fisting his own massive erection in perfect rhythm to her sucking and the man’s pumping. He gripped his balls with his other hand, arching up off the chair, squeezing his sack and jacking his cock. It was 8:57 a.m. His wife had gotten an early start on her cheating today.

            The furnace man suddenly pulled on Layla’s long hair and slammed his cock into her mouth, obviously getting ready to cum. His swarthy face shone with sweat, his eyes narrowed in sexual anguish, drool leaking out of the corner of his open mouth. Justin’s hand flew on his cock. Layla smiled, her mouth and throat easily, and expertly, accommodating the organ fucking her face, her lips wrapping and gliding it. And then she jerked her head back, spitting the man’s cock out, leaving it and him dangling and twitching.

            “I want the full service,” Justin heard her say, watching his wife get to her feet.

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