Done For Love

AUTHOR'S NOTE/CONTENT WARNING: This story contains cheating/cuckold/NTR/etc. You know the drill: consider finding something else if it's not for you.

Thanks for reading!

=

Tray had never been more comfortable in his bed.

The instant he was back home in his room, he collapsed face-first into the king size mattress, sinking into it without even taking off his suit and tie. Truth be told, he'd barely been holding it together all evening, and the drive back to his mansion was like floating through limbo. Even as he turned over onto his back, tired and spent enough to hibernate through the coming winter, he was stuck in a daze staring up at his spinning ceiling fan.

He still couldn't believe what had just happened.

It wasn't that he was surprised he finally got inside Irina's mouth. He'd already known that would happen since he first saw her kneel in front of him in his office, when her lips unconsciously parted in idle curiosity. His plans always worked because he could tell when a woman held those desires -- whether they knew it or not.

But in spite of his confidence, those moments when those urges boiled over, and he truly got to enjoy a shiny new toy...

It never got old.Never.

He groaned, undoing his belt and pants to let his cramped package free. His dick was still sore from the relentless attention it had been given. He hadn't shown it at all during his encounters with the two women tonight -- he was far more concerned with gratifying his own lust -- but cumming three times so quickly in a row like that was no small feat even for him. He was getting older, after all. He was worried after Maddie deepthroated him that he wouldn't be as pent up for Irina, but the moment he saw the young hot wife, that worry instantly vanished. As usual, just being around her kicked his body into overdrive, forcing him to act.

He was sure of it now: he'd never enjoyed a pursuit quite as much as this one.

For the first time, she'd truly impressed him. So much that he could still see her clearly in his mind, lips wrapped around his cock head as she vigorously tried stuffing even more past her throat. It wasn't the best blowjob he'd ever received, but the situation had been so intensely charged that it still ranked up there in his eyes. His decision to move the action down to the locker room had turned out better than he ever could've hoped. She lost control just the way he wanted her to.

But for the first time in a long, long while, so had he. This woman kept putting him in dangerous spots. He wanted to play with her for a while longer, but in truth, if she had asked him to tonight, he wouldn't have had the self control to resist picking her up and fucking her like a fleshlight against the lockers right there.

He remembered her moans, her chokes, the sucking sounds of her lips, and slowly took hold of himself again, feeling the blood begin to flow anew. To his astonishment, his body could probably handle a fourth session today. Like a pot left to stew on low heat 24/7, his balls just kept on churning out more and more of their essence second by second, only ever pausing for the occasional cumshot before getting right back to work. He may have gotten tired, but they never did.

However, before he started to stroke himself hard again, he stopped. No matter what his undying instincts told him, he'd had enough for the night. He didn't want to spoil the memory of his last release -- that of Irina staring straight up into his eyes as she swallowed his pumping load. It had gone exactly as he'd pictured it so many times. Like a dream come true.

He rested his head back on his pillow, not bothering to change for bed. He'd shower again in the morning. For now, he just wanted to sink further into the dream, to see what happened next. Contrary to what she probably thought, the ball was in Irina's court now -- well, save for the picture he still had of her. But that hadn't been a factor as she rammed his cock into her mouth today, had it?

It would continue not to be. In the coming weeks, she would be the one initiating. She would realize it, too -- that she was breaking, doing all this truly willingly. By that time, it would be too late. She'd already be too far gone to resist her body any longer.

And after that, there was only one way left to go.

===

Irina stirred in bed as she woke, still feeling a warmth deep in her belly. Groaning, she turned over and cuddled up to her husband. "Good morning."

"Good morning..." he groaned back.

A pleasant sigh escaped her lips. It had been too long since she'd come to like this -- calmly, with nothing more than Flin on her delirious mind. If it wasn't a work day, she would've asked him to cuddle an hour or two more.

Of course, Tray's cum was still in her stomach. But if she thought of it as just a warm drink she'd had before bed, it didn't spoil the moment as much.

She hummed a tune to herself as she got ready and made breakfast that morning. It was a strange feeling -- the weight of her perilous position had almost completely lifted off her, as had the overly oppressive guilt. This was despite the fact she'd gone further than ever with Tray last night, betraying her husband in a way she'd never once dreamed of. Following the example of the past few months, she should've been reeling from horniness, depression, or both. Instead, she felt lighter on her feet than ever, and her love for Flin was unchanged. When she looked at him sitting there at the table, she just wanted to abandon everything else and sit with him, losing herself in his eyes.

She was starving. Not for his dick, or for the sweet release of orgasm. She was starving for all of him again, and she was ready to prove it.

"I'll have the bed ready for tonight, babe... I've got a feeling this time," she crooned at him after breakfast, batting her eyelashes. She had a feeling he would approve.

"Oh. O-okay."

And just like that, with a single stutter, the momentum of the entire morning ground to a halt. The progress she'd made wasn't gone, but amidst the perfect glee she'd drowned herself in for an hour, worry began to creep back in.

She bit her lip as she adjusted Flin's tie for work at the front door.

Yes, of course. She'd been far too quick to throw away her panic last night, hadn't she?

She couldn't help it. The feeling of normalcy returning to her body was like waking up after a long, long nightmare. When she realized during their tense encounter that it meant she could finally be with her husband again -- truly be with him without forcing it -- intimacy was the first thing she went for, and it had been about as amazing as she ever could've hoped. The fulfillment given by the orgasms she had in the car outside KF Designs, and even the one she'd had in the locker room last night, couldn't even hold a candle.

Waking up after the fact, though, there was no denying the lingering conflict in Flin's eyes, even if she didn't want to admit it. He still smiled at her just the same, and their conversations were almost back to normal, but the moments in between were just a little too drawn out. He averted his gaze, pursed his lips. He'd worn the very same expression before asking about her and Tray last night.

She was far from out of the woods. He didn't know anything -- not for sure -- but he was suspicious. He was right to be.

Still, she wouldn't let him find out. Not now. If there ever was a time to come clean without destroying the marriage, it had long passed. The game now was to hide everything until it was safe to forget.

As soon as he was gone for work again, she was on her phone with the unknown number again, determined to finish this all for real.

[We need to talk.]

As always, the response came immediately.

[Any time if it's you.]

[Shut up. We took too long last night. Flin said you mentioned me to him at work, and now he's suspicious. What the fuck is your problem?]

[Relax. I just reminded him how much I enjoyed dinner with you both. Nothing unusual. It's his fault for being so insecure.]

She paused, trembling as she suppressed the urge to send a scathing text back defending her love. She had to think carefully. Nothing this man did was ever so simple as "nothing unusual." He probably meant to light a fire under her ass, and to her total frustration, it was working.

Her fingers resumed.

[Look. We can't do evenings anymore.]

[If you finish me in time, there shouldn't be a problem.]

She wanted to punch her screen. This bastard.

[I already told Flin I'd stop going out on Tuesdays. The alibi is gone whether you like it or not.]

[How about afternoons?]

[You're joking. Flin will be in the building.]

[Sounds like his problem.]

[It'll be your problem too if we're caught.]

[Is that a challenge? :)]

Before she could finish typing her next message, yet another new dick pic flashed across her screen, stunning her. She bit her lip, but unlike every time this happened over the past three months, she felt no need to tend to herself as she took in the image. Her pussy simply hummed in instinctive want, then let her continue on.

Like normal.

[Fine. Next Tuesday. Just don't get used to this.]

[Already am.]

She threw the phone back to the couch, rubbing her face to try and smother away the worsening predicament. The deal was far from the only thing she had to be worried about. Sleep had solidified something she'd only suspected last night in the car.

The odd feelings and urges she'd once relegated to "the parasite" were now embedded deep within her -- absorbed. Accepted. In exchange for not going completely insane at the sight of Tray's well-endowed body, she could no longer even attempt to deny to herself that she found him outrageously hot, and that she had unambiguously enjoyed all of their previous encounters to an extent. She hadn't wanted them to happen, but that was the hard truth. Their time in the steamy locker room had merely been the breaking point.

She'd enjoy their next meetup, too. And if she didn't end all this soon -- as in next time -- she'd keep enjoying herself. Again, and again, and again.

She went straight to the kitchen and began slicing up veggies for dinner, more focused than ever. It was wrong that she didn't feel as guilty anymore, but if she wanted to help Flin, she could no longer afford to fixate on such things. Those thoughts were only keeping her from getting his boss off in time, and that kept this from ending as it should've long ago. It was a shame she'd need to use her lips on the smug asshole again. It did make her heart break. But at the end of the day, they were hardly different from the knife she used -- a tool, perfect for handling that monster of a pervert.

So, she went about her week with her rekindled normal, mentally prepared for what she had to do.

She couldn't wait to be back.

She couldn't wait for it to be over.

===

Pulling up to KF Designs in the middle of the afternoon again brought back feelings Irina didn't realize she'd buried.

Mainly, it was the discomfort of being watched. She'd gotten far too used to being here when there were few other cars in the parking lot. Now, they crowded her in every direction, dark windows shimmering at her like bug eyes -- emotionless, calculating. The building, too, was no longer dormant -- the same two guards stood guard at the front door again, yawning from boredom. She felt the inexplicable fear that they would turn her away for some reason this time. They didn't, of course, but the lecherous pressure of their gazes was just as potent as ever.

It was hardly any better inside. She recognized the faces of strangers she once thought she'd never have to see again -- the barista behind the cafe register, employees in the lobby couches and hallways beyond. All of them clearly recognized her too despite having only seen her once months ago, and she still didn't like their eyes. They were full of confusion and lust as usual, but there was also...something else. Rumors. There was speculation in those looks.

She pushed past them all the way to the third floor. Those, she could handle.

What Irina couldn't push past was the urgency beating in her chest.

Last time, she'd been here to deliver a thumb drive -- a simple task, one that should've taken minutes tops. For loitering with Flin back then, she'd encountered Tray. Everything that had befallen her after that one goddamn decision was her fault.

And now, here again, her objective was not to avoid the pervy boss, but the husband she loved so much.

Her pace slowed as she walked by door 312. She expected the guilt to come knocking, but no -- her mind's immediate reaction was simple, resigned acknowledgement. She felt bad and nothing more. She remembered him completely immersed in his work, face content as he drew. If he was lucky -- if she was -- that's where he still was at the moment, and that's where he would stay. She hoped so.

She waited an awkwardly long while in the hallway before even thinking to approach door 330. It was on the cusp of empty, but not quite. There were always two to three other people occupying the space, walking within eyeshot of the massive entrance. They all glanced at her with raised eyebrows as they passed her, wondering why she was just standing there, but as red as it made her, she bore them, too. They were already clearly suspicious of her. She couldn't risk even one of them seeing her, a strange, out of place woman, walk into Tray's office. They would chirp immediately, and some of them had already seen her visit Flin once, word would spread like wildfire... No, since she was here now, it definitely would...

She realized she was tapping her foot. This was getting too messy. In a weird, fucked up sort of way, she missed being able strut right on in as she did in the evenings, when Tray's cock was the only thing on her mind.

When she saw that the hallway was finally empty, she took her chance and damn near bolted for the double doors. Inside, Tray sat at his desk immersed in his laptop as usual, this time lit by daylight. It took him some time to acknowledge her presence.

"Goodness gracious," he said with one of those grins. "You actually showed up. You're kinda crazy, you know that?"

"What- this was your idea, asshole!"

"Hey, hey. Watch your voice. There're people here now, remember? I know you're used to getting carried away, but still..."

She felt her face flush, stuttering incoherently to defend herself.

He laughed. "Ha! I'm just messing with you! This room is soundproofed. Thoroughly. I could fuck you silly over the desk for hours and no one would hear a thing. Ask Maddie, or any of the other women you walked by on your way here."

She recovered at the brazen suggestion, sneering. "Bullshit. I could hear you two from the hall last week."

"I left the door open."

Deciding to just leave that subject in particular alone, she cleared her throat, trying to assert herself. "Listen, Tray. I-I just don't think I can keep doing this. I shouldn't even be here in the first place..."

"And yet you are. Isn't it exhilarating, trying not to get caught?"

"No!" she snapped. "Where do you get off on this, anyway? You lose Flin if word of this gets out!"

"So do you." He shook his phone at her, reminding her of what it contained. Once more, she couldn't properly respond before he went on. "But enough chit chat. Come over here. I've got something to show you."

Despite her protests so far, she did what he said, rounding his desk slowly, timidly. The closer she got, the more of his sitting form revealed itself underneath. As it turned out, his suit and tie today were merely a professional courtesy. His clothes disappeared in their entirety below the waist -- no pants, no belt, not even socks or shoes.

His cock was already rock hard, pointing straight up at the underside of the desk.

Her mouth was already watering.

His grin deepened as he saw her swallow hard to avoid drooling. Of all the women he'd seduced this way, he had a hard time recalling one quite as fixated on his size as her -- and that was saying something. "Go on, get down there," he encouraged. "I've got a meeting in an hour."

She ripped her gaze from his member, glaring, but as always, it was soon back where it started. She was totally engrossed. All her prior feelings about it still stood -- about how ghastly it was, about how unrealistic it was in the grand scheme of things -- but simply put, she liked how it looked. She liked how much cum it always shot out. And now, after her loss of control last week, she knew something else for sure: she liked how it tasted, how it felt in her mouth.

So, she moved under him, kneeling and shimmying between his legs under the desk. It was so cramped she barely fit, and his musk hit her immediately, which only made her salivate more as her face crept closer and closer to his manhood. Meanwhile, he readied himself for her attention again, reclining back into his chair and prepping the timer on his phone. She glanced once at the screen, reminding herself -- and her drooling pussy -- why she was her in the first place. She would end this today. She hadn't really been trying to make him finish from the start last week -- she'd been relishing in it too much in her heat, drawing it out without realizing it. This time was different.

This was the last time she'd enjoy bringing pleasure to this man.

He tapped the start button again. With a deep breath, she leaned forward and kissed the bottom of the crown lightly.

A soft smooch resonated over the ticking clock.

Tray sighed in relief as she began, closing his eyes to take in the sensation. Her lips felt as heavenly as he remembered, but their gentler, teasing intent added a whole new layer of paradise to the mix. She kissed around the vast expanse of his veiny shaft almost as if surveying it, then extended her tongue to explore every ridge and vein more confidently. He hadn't made her say it outright, but it was clear as day how much she'd thought of their time in the locker room.

He wasn't far from the truth. Irina couldn't help but let out a moan as she took in his taste again. Being trapped tightly within his pants and underwear for so long, it was much, much sweatier than before. More bitter. More powerful. It wasn't filthy or anything -- it just wasn't perfectly clean, and that made it feel more real. Since he was so big, each area had time to accumulate a slightly different flavor throughout the day, each of which her tongue savored without complaint.

As satisfying as this was, however, she hadn't forgotten what she was ultimately here for, and she opened her mouth to get it over with. She took his head in, looking up to check the reactions of the man above her. He didn't meet her gaze as he grunted in ongoing euphoria. She glared -- a strange feeling coupled with the huge cock in her mouth. Now that her thoughts were her own again, she could show him she was undoubtedly angry but couldn't bring herself to stop. With a frustrated groan, she began to bob her head, sucking in what little open space remained in her cheeks.

Time passed. She blew him slowly all the while, trying to fit more and more of him in with every stroke. The room filled with the illicit sounds of her traitorous act, making her wetter by the second.

But it was too quiet. He was too quiet.

Whenever she looked up at Tray, she saw him gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, but he wasn't even close to cumming. She could tell without a shadow of a doubt. He only groaned and grunted occasionally, and never in that distinctly urgent way. His breathing was deep, relaxed, as if meditating. The throbs she felt against her palate, too, were steady, synchronized with the calm flow of precum trickling down her tongue. She was making him feel good for sure -- just not good enough.