Chapter 1: Introduction
The office hummed with the usual midday buzz—keyboards clicking, phones ringing, the occasional burst of laughter from the break room. Chris adjusted the hem of her skirt as she leaned over her desk, the fabric riding just high enough to tease the edge of her stockings. She had chosen this outfit deliberately, the deep V-neck of her blouse hugging her curves, the pencil skirt hugging her hips in a way that made her feel powerful. *Confident.* Like she could own a room just by walking into it.
And then, as if summoned by her thoughts, Greg appeared in the doorway of her cubicle.
Tall, broad-shouldered, his tailored suit clinging to his muscular frame in all the right places. His dark eyes flicked over her, lingering just a second too long on the swell of her cleavage before meeting her gaze with a smirk.
"Christina," he said, his voice smooth as whiskey. "You look… *dangerous* today."
She felt her cheeks warm, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she arched a brow, playing along. "Dangerous? Or just *distracting*?"
Greg chuckled, stepping closer, close enough that she caught the scent of his cologne—something expensive, something that made her stomach tighten.
His fingers brushed the edge of her desk, just inches from her hand, and she fought the urge to flinch. Or lean in.
"You know what they say about danger," he murmured, his voice dropping lower. "It’s just excitement without the rules."
Chris swallowed, her pulse hammering in her throat. She should have pulled away. She should have told him to fuck off. But the words died on her lips, replaced by a slow, deliberate smile.
"Maybe I like breaking rules."
His smirk deepened, and before she could react, his hand closed around hers, his thumb tracing slow circles over her knuckles. The touch was electric, sending a jolt straight between her legs.
Chris’s breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let her fingers linger in his grip, savoring the heat of his skin against hers.
Greg’s thumb traced the inside of her wrist, slow and deliberate, his dark eyes locked onto hers. "You’re playing with fire, Christina," he murmured, his voice rough with something dangerous.
She swallowed hard, her nipples tightening against the lace of her bra. "Maybe I like getting burned."
A slow, predatory grin spread across his face. Without another word, he stepped closer, his free hand sliding up her arm, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of her inner elbow. She shivered, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.
Greg’s fingers trailed higher, his touch feather-light against her skin, sending sparks of electricity through her veins. The air between them crackled with tension, thick and heavy, until she could barely breathe.
"Greg, we can’t—"
His lips crashed into hers before she could finish, cutting off her protest with a hungry, demanding kiss. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her, while his hand slid down to grip her hip, pulling her flush against him. She gasped into his mouth as she felt the hard bulge of his cock pressing against her stomach, thick and insistent.
Fuck. She should stop this. She should push him away.
She thought of her husband Tom and how much they loved each other and she knew this was wrong but her body betrayed her.
She felt her pussy grow wet as Greg’s tongue explored her mouth, his hand sliding up her thigh, fingers teasing the edge of her stocking. She moaned into his mouth, her hips arching involuntarily against him.
Greg broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "Fuck, you taste good," he growled, his hand sliding higher, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of her panties. "You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?"
Chris bit her lip, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
"Fuck, Greg—" she gasped as his fingers pushed aside the thin fabric of her panties, his rough fingertips dragging through her slick folds. She was so wet, so *needily* wet, that his fingers slid effortlessly against her clit, circling it with deliberate pressure.
"Mmm, fuck, you're dripping," he growled against her neck, his breath hot on her skin. "You like this, don’t you? Being touched like this? Being *fucked* like this?"
She whimpered, her hips bucking against his hand.
"Greg, we can't—"
"Shut the fuck up," he growled, his fingers pressing harder against her clit, rubbing in slow, torturous circles. "You want this just as much as I do. Don't lie to me."
Chris gasped as his fingers dipped lower, sliding through her slick folds before pressing against her entrance. She was so wet, so *desperate*, that his fingers slipped inside her with ease, stretching her tight pussy in a way that made her moan.
"Fuck, you're tight," Greg muttered, his thumb still working her clit as his fingers pumped in and out of her. "You like that, don't you?
You like my fingers fucking your tight little cunt?" Greg growled, his voice rough with lust as he curled his fingers inside her, rubbing against that perfect spot that made her legs tremble.
Chris bit her lip, her nails digging into his shoulders as she fought to stay quiet. The office was just outside the door, people walking by, phones ringing—anyone could walk in. The danger only made her wetter, her pussy clenching around his fingers as he fucked her with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Fuck, you're so tight," Greg muttered, his thumb pressing down on her clit, grinding in tight circles. "You're gonna come for me, aren't you?
Right here in your office, where anyone could walk in and see you getting fucked by your boss's fingers." Greg's voice was a dark, velvety growl against her ear, his breath hot and uneven as he worked her pussy with ruthless precision. His fingers curled inside her, rubbing that perfect spot over and over, while his thumb ground down on her clit in tight, relentless circles.
Chris whimpered, her hips bucking against his hand, her thighs trembling. She could feel the orgasm building, coiling tight in her belly, threatening to explode. She bit her lip, trying to stay quiet, but Greg wasn't having it.
His free hand gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him as he fucked her with his fingers. "I want to hear you," he growled. "I want to hear how much you love this. How much you love being my little office slut."
Chris moaned, her hips bucking against his hand, her pussy clenching around his fingers. The filthy words sent a fresh wave of heat through her, her nipples hardening against the lace of her bra. She was so close, so fucking close—
Greg's thumb pressed down harder on her clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles. "That's it," he murmured, his voice rough with lust. "Come for me.
Right now," Greg commanded, his fingers curling inside her, his thumb grinding down on her clit with brutal precision. His voice was a dark, velvety growl that sent a fresh wave of heat through her. "I want to feel your tight little cunt squeeze my fingers. I want to hear you moan my name like the filthy little whore you are."
Chris gasped, her hips bucking against his hand, her thighs trembling.
She was so close, so fucking close—
"Come for me," Greg growled, his fingers curling inside her, his thumb grinding down on her clit with brutal precision. "Right now."
The command sent her over the edge. Her back arched, her nails digging into his shoulders as her pussy clenched around his fingers, her orgasm tearing through her in a violent, shuddering wave. She bit her lip to stifle her moan, but it was too late—Greg’s other hand was already covering her mouth, muffling her cries as she came undone beneath him.
His fingers never stopped moving, never stopped fucking her through the orgasm, dragging out every last shuddering aftershock until she was trembling, boneless, her thighs slick with her own arousal.
Greg pulled his fingers from her pussy with a wet *pop*, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean. "Fucking delicious," he murmured, his dark eyes burning into hers. "Just like I knew you’d be."
Chris’s chest heaved, her skin flushed, her blouse damp with sweat. She should have been horrified. She should have pushed him away, straightened her clothes, and pretended this never happened.
But the way Greg was looking at her—like he owned her, like he knew exactly what she wanted—made her pussy throb all over again.
"Fuck," she whispered, her voice shaking. "We can't—"
Greg cut her off with a dark chuckle, his fingers trailing up her thigh, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "Oh, we *can*," he murmured, his thumb brushing over the damp fabric of her panties. "And we *will*."
Chris gasped as his fingers hooked into the waistband, dragging them down her legs in one slow, deliberate motion.
The cool air of the office brushed against her bare skin, making her shiver. She was exposed now—completely at his mercy—and the realization sent a fresh wave of heat between her thighs.
Greg’s eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, his gaze raking over her body like a physical touch. "Fuck, look at you," he growled, his voice rough with hunger. "So wet. So *ready*."
She whimpered as his fingers traced the slick folds of her pussy, spreading her open, exposing her swollen clit to the air. The sensation was almost too much—her body was already trembling, her thighs shaking with need.
Greg’s fingers were rough, calloused, and they felt *perfect* as they spread her open, exposing her most intimate places to his hungry gaze. She could feel the cool air of the office brushing against her wet folds, making her shiver.
"Fuck, look at you," Greg growled, his voice thick with lust. "So fucking wet. So *ready* for me."
Chris bit her lip, her hips lifting involuntarily, begging for more. She was so exposed, so *vulnerable*, and yet the thrill of it sent a fresh wave of arousal through her.
what’s a matter your husband can’t satisfy you, now you need a real man to do it for you.
Greg’s voice was a dark, velvety growl, his fingers still teasing her pussy, spreading her wetness up to her clit, making her squirm.
Chris bit her lip, her cheeks flushing. She should have been offended, should have told him to fuck off. But the truth was, he wasn’t wrong. Tom had been gentle, careful, almost *reverent* in bed. And while she loved him for it, it had never made her *burn* like this.
"Answer me," Greg demanded, his fingers pinching her clit, making her gasp.
"Your husband can't make you feel this, can he?"
Chris bit her lip, her hips bucking against his hand. "No," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "He can't."
Greg smirked, his fingers sliding down to her entrance, teasing her with slow, deliberate circles. "That's what I thought," he murmured. "You need a real man to fuck you properly."
Chris moaned as his fingers pushed inside her, stretching her tight pussy. She was so wet, so *desperate*, that his fingers slid in easily, curling against that perfect spot that made her legs tremble.
You feel my big cock poking you don’t you are thinking what it could do to your pussy, if you can take it.
You know you want it, you know you need it. You know you’re a fucking slut for it.
Chris’s breath hitched as Greg’s fingers curled inside her, his thumb pressing down on her clit with just the right amount of pressure. She was so wet, so *needily* wet, that his fingers slid in and out of her with ease, stretching her tight pussy in a way that made her moan.
"Fuck, Greg—" she gasped, her hips bucking against his hand, her thighs trembling. She was so close, so fucking close—
Greg’s free hand gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him as he fucked her with his fingers.
You feel my big cock poking you don’t you are thinking what it could do to your pussy, if you can take it.
She was so close, so fucking close—
Greg’s free hand gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him as he fucked her with his fingers.
"You feel my big cock poking you, don’t you?" he growled, his voice rough with lust. "You’re thinking about what it could do to your tight little pussy, aren’t you? If you can even take it." She *was* thinking about it. The thick, hard outline of his cock pressing against her stomach, the way it had felt when he’d ground it against her earlier, the way it had made her pussy clench with need.
"You know you want it," Greg continued, his fingers curling inside her, rubbing against that perfect spot that made her legs tremble.
"You know you need it. You know you’re a fucking slut for it." She was so close, so fucking close—
Greg’s free hand gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him as he fucked her with his fingers.
you want me to bend you over your desk and take you hard rough.
You want to feel my cock stretching your tight little pussy for the first time. You want to feel me fucking you so hard you can’t walk straight tomorrow. You want to feel my cum dripping out of your cunt for days.
Chris’s breath hitched, her fingers digging into Greg’s shoulders as his words sent a fresh wave of heat between her thighs. She *did* want that. She wanted it *so fucking badly* that it hurt.
Greg’s fingers curled inside her, rubbing against that perfect spot, making her legs tremble. "Tell me you want it," he growled, his voice rough with lust.
"Tell me you want my cock inside you."
Chris bit her lip, her body trembling with need. She knew she should say no. She knew this was wrong. But the way Greg was looking at her—like he owned her, like he could make her come undone with just a touch—made her pussy throb with anticipation.
"I want it," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I want your cock inside me."
Greg smirked, his fingers still buried deep inside her, curling against that perfect spot that made her legs tremble. "Good girl," he murmured, his thumb pressing down on her clit with just the right amount of pressure.
"Now let's see how much of my cock you can take."
Chris gasped as Greg's fingers slid out of her, leaving her pussy aching and empty. She watched, breathless, as he unbuckled his belt with slow, deliberate movements, his dark eyes never leaving hers. The sound of the leather sliding through the loops was obscenely loud in the quiet office, making her pulse race.
His cock sprang free, thick and heavy, jutting out from his body with a proud, obscene curve. Chris swallowed hard at the sight of it—longer and thicker than Tom's, the veins running along the shaft pulsing with his arousal.
Greg said you like it, Chris bit her lower lip and all she good do was nod her head.
Greg turned her around and bent her over the desk and lifted up her skirt and pulled her panties to the side.
He could see her wetness as he sunk his big thick cock to the base in one stroke.
Her pussy was so tight and wet that it felt like a vice around his cock. He could feel her walls clenching around him as he started to fuck her hard and fast.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he growled, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he pounded into her. "You feel so fucking good, Chris. Your pussy is so wet and tight, it's like a fucking glove around my cock."
Chris moaned loudly, her body shaking with each thrust. She could feel his cock hitting her deep inside, stretching her in ways she had never felt before. The sensation was overwhelming, and she could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge.
Greg’s hands gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he pounded into her with brutal, relentless strokes. His cock was thick, *so fucking thick*, stretching her tight pussy in a way that made her gasp with every thrust. She could feel every ridge, every vein, every inch of him sliding in and out of her, filling her so completely that she could barely breathe.
"Fuck, you take my cock so well," Greg growled, his voice rough with lust.
your husband must never fuck this pussy you so tight. Tell me you don’t want to be with him anymore you only want my cock.
Tell me you want to be my office slut, my little fuck toy. Tell me you want to be my hotwife and let me fuck you whenever I want.
Chris moaned, her fingers clawing at the desk as Greg’s cock pounded into her from behind. The desk shook with every brutal thrust, papers scattering to the floor, the sound of their fucking filling the small office. She could feel his thick cock stretching her, filling her so completely that it almost hurt—but in the best way.
"Fuck, Greg—" she gasped, her voice trembling. "I—I can’t—"
"Tell me," he growled, his fingers digging into her hips as he slammed into her harder.
"Tell me you want to be my little office slut. Tell me you want to be my hotwife and let me fuck you whenever I want."
Chris’s breath hitched. The words were filthy, degrading, and yet they sent a fresh wave of heat between her thighs. She *did* want it. She wanted to be his. She wanted to be *used* by him.
"Yes," she gasped, her voice trembling. "Yes, I want it. I want to be your slut. I want to be your hotwife. I want you to fuck me whenever you want."
Greg groaned, his cock swelling inside her at her words.
"Fuck, you’re perfect," he growled, his hips slamming into her with brutal force. "You’re my fucking *slut* now, aren’t you? My little office whore who can’t get enough of my cock."
Chris whimpered, her fingers clawing at the desk as he pounded into her. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room, the scent of sex thick in the air. She could feel his cock stretching her, filling her so completely that it almost hurt—but in the best way.
"Tell me you love it," Greg demanded, his voice rough with lust.
Tell me you want your husband to watch me fuck you like the slut you are.
Tell me you want him to see me stretch your tight little pussy with my big cock. Tell me you want him to see me cum inside you and make you my property.
Chris gasped as Greg’s words sent a fresh wave of heat through her. The idea of Tom watching—of seeing her like this, bent over her desk, her boss’s thick cock pounding into her—made her pussy clench around Greg’s shaft. She was so wet, so *needily* wet, that she could feel her own arousal dripping down her thighs, mixing with the sweat that slicked her skin.
Greg’s cock was a relentless force inside her, each thrust driving her closer to the edge. His hands gripped her hips so tightly she knew she’d have bruises tomorrow—bruises she’d wear like a badge of shame, a secret mark of his ownership.
"Fuck, you’re so tight," Greg growled, his voice rough with lust. "Your pussy’s strangling my cock. You like that, don’t you? You like being stretched open by a real man?"
Chris moaned, her fingers clawing at the desk as he pounded into her.
"Tell me you want your husband to watch me fuck you like the slut you are. Tell me you want him to see me cum inside you and make you my property." Greg’s voice was a dark, commanding growl as he slammed into her harder, his cock pistoning in and out of her tight, dripping pussy with brutal precision.
Chris gasped, her fingers digging into the edge of the desk as her body trembled with pleasure. The filthy words, the raw, animalistic fucking—it was too much. She was so close, so fucking close, her clit throbbing with every brutal thrust.
"Tell me," Greg demanded, his fingers tightening around her hips, his cock swelling inside her. "Tell me you want him to see you take my cum. Tell me you want to be my property."
Chris’s mind started think of Tom how much she loved him and how wrong this was he didn’t deserve this to happen to him but before she could realize it she said “yes Greg, I want my husband to see me as your slut doing to me anything you want including breeding me”.
The words spilled from her lips like venom, sweet and poisonous, and the moment they left her mouth, Greg’s grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh with bruising force. His cock swelled inside her, stretching her even further, and she gasped at the sudden fullness, her pussy clenching around him involuntarily.
"Fuck, yes," Greg growled, his voice rough with lust. "That’s what I want to hear. My little office slut begging to be used. My hotwife whore desperate to be filled with my cum."
Chris moaned, her body trembling as Greg’s cock pounded into her with brutal, relentless strokes.
Just as a orgasm ripped through Chris like a bolt of lightning she has felt like in a long time.
Her body trembled, her thighs shaking as she came hard, her pussy clenching around Greg’s thick cock like a vice. She could feel him pulsing inside her, his cock swelling even thicker as he neared his own release.
"Fuck, Chris," Greg groaned, his voice rough with lust as he slammed into her with brutal force. "You feel so fucking good. Your pussy is so tight, so wet. I’m gonna fill you up, baby. I’m gonna fucking breed you."
Chris gasped, her fingers clawing at the desk as Greg’s cock pounded into her.
Just then Greg buried his big cock all the way as he start to shoot big thick ropes of cum so close to her womb, so much cum.
Chris could feel his cock pulsing inside her, his hot cum filling her up, coating her insides in thick, sticky ropes. She moaned, her body trembling as she felt him emptying himself inside her, marking her as his.
"Fuck, yes," Greg groaned, his hips still thrusting into her, his cock still pulsing as he filled her up. "Take my cum, you little slut. Take every last drop."
Chris gasped, her fingers clawing at the desk as she felt his cum dripping out of her, mixing with her own arousal. She was so full, so *used*, and yet she wanted more.
She couldn’t believe she let another man cum in her married pussy, what about Tom she thought as felt Greg’s cock in her.
He slowly pulled out of her put her panties back over her pussy, as Greg said “let that keep my cum in you when you go home to your husband “.
He then pulled her skirt back down and helped her stand up and straighten her clothes. She was still trembling from the intensity of the orgasm, her body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. She could feel his cum dripping out of her, the sticky warmth between her thighs a constant reminder of what had just happened.
Greg smirked, his dark eyes locking onto hers as he adjusted his own clothes, tucking his still-hard cock back into his pants. "Fuck, you look good like that," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. "All flushed, all fucked out. My little office slut."
Chris bit her lip, her cheeks burning with a mix of shame and arousal.
What am I going to tell my husband as she starts come to the realization of what she just did as she could feel his cum leaking out of he.
She was getting nervous not know what to do.
When Greg said “go home take a shower come and tell your husband you want to spice up your sex life and you found out about hotwife cuckolding lifestyle and how it brings out the sexual animal in the husbands when they watch”.
Then we have the company party next week and you can invite him we can meet up and tell him you want to fuck me Greg said.
‘Chris looked at Greg you make seem all too easy.
You want me to tell my husband that I want to fuck you? You want me to tell him that I want to be your whore and let you breed me?’
Greg smirked, his dark eyes locking onto hers as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. "Exactly," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "You’re a smart woman, Chris. You know how this works. The thrill of the chase, the excitement of the forbidden—it’s all part of the game. And your husband? He’s going to *love* it."
Chris swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her throat.
The weight of Greg’s words settled over her like a heavy, suffocating blanket. She could still feel the sticky warmth of his cum between her thighs, the way it had dripped out of her when he pulled away, marking her as his. The realization of what she had just done—what she was *still* doing—sent a fresh wave of shame crashing over her.
But beneath that shame, there was something else. Something darker. Something *exciting.*
Greg’s smirk deepened as he watched her squirm, his dark eyes burning into hers. "You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction.
Greg said you don’t have to tell Tom you want to fuck me but you want to cuckold him but you have to tell him it will excited him to reclaim her.
We used the office party as a cover for us to be together in a friendly setting the. You tell him you want to do it with me. You understand Chris?
Chris said I think so.
I don’t know if Tom will go for it. He’s not the type to just let me fuck another man.
Greg smirked, his dark eyes burning with arrogance.
"Oh, he’ll go for it," Greg said, his voice dripping with confidence. "Men like your husband—good, loyal, predictable men—they *crave* this. Deep down, they want to see their wives get fucked by a real man. They want to watch you get taken, to see you *used* in ways they could never imagine. And when they do, it’ll awaken something in them. Something primal.
Something *dark*. Something that will make him want to reclaim you, to fuck you so hard you can't walk straight. Trust me, Chris. I know men like your husband. I *am* a man like your husband. And I know what we want."
Chris bit her lip, her mind racing. She could still feel Greg's cum leaking out of her, the sticky warmth between her thighs a constant reminder of what had just happened. The idea of telling Tom—of *showing* him—made her stomach twist with nerves. But the thought of Greg's thick cock stretching her, filling her, *using* her—made her pussy throb with anticipation.
Chris left for home hoping Tom would agree.
end of chapter 1