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Message-ID: <33185asstr$1004569802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: sandia@texas.net
Subject: {ASSM} "Kimberly"      M+/F, Reluc, Wife, D/s.     Rev.'d.  (1/3)
Date: Wed, 31 Oct 2001 18:10:02 -0500
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"Kimberly"
By Sandia.

This is the first part of a three part revision of the original "Kimberly."
I thought I could make it better!
Let me know what you think.

Story codes:  M+/F, Reluctant, Wife, D/s.

Comments appreciated at sandia@texas.net.


"Kimberly"

My name is Kimberly.  I'm a thirty-two year old wife, mother of two, aged 8 and 
10, married now eleven years.  I work for a financial services corporation 
where I commute to work from our quiet, conservative suburban town.  I'm active 
in my church group and consider myself a Christian conservative.  I've always 
tried to uphold the values of my church, and to be a good Christian wife and 
mother.  This is how I became corrupted, and betrayed myself, as well as my 
husband.  

It all started at my job.  There was a man there, named Tony, in accounting, 
who had transferred several months earlier.  He was about seven or eight years 
younger than me, but very self-assured.  He was ambitious; he had a reputation 
as "executive material," somebody marked for advancement.  He was also known 
for the many women he had dated.   He made no effort to hide his interest in 
me, from his first day in our division; he smiled when he took my hand, but as 
soon as he caught my eye, his eyes traveled down my body, stopping at my chest 
and between my legs.  When he met my eyes again, I remember I blushed and had 
to look away.  He squeezed my hand again before he let me go.

After that I couldn't keep away from him.  He would come around my cubicle to 
flirt with me.  He would massage my neck, or try to guide my hand on the 
computer mouse, leaning over my shoulder.  Sometimes I would catch him looking 
down my blouse or staring at my legs.  I knew I should have been offended, and 
I was, a little; but also I was a little flattered.  Anyway, I never encouraged 
him, but I didn't report him either.    

He was a very handsome man, muscular and dark-skinned.  Some of the younger 
women in the office were jealous of the attention he paid me, and I sometimes 
found myself thinking about him late at night, sometimes even when I was with 
my husband, but I never considered letting things get out of hand.  

Things went on like this for a few months, until Tony learned my secret:

I'd been cheating on my expense vouchers.  I'd started out small, a few dollars 
here and there.  Everybody did it.  But things were tight at home.  We were on 
a budget.  Soon I was stealing regularly, and in larger and larger amounts.  I 
used the money to buy things I felt I needed for myself, but couldn't pay for, 
because of the budget. 

Tony came by my cubicle one day, as usual, but he dropped some papers on my 
keyboard.

"You need to take a look at this," he said.  

I examined the papers and recognized them.  I felt a cold tingle in my chest.  
They were my weekly vouchers and my quarterly expense account.  My numbers 
didn't match!  

"You know Kimberly, your expenses are much higher than they should be."  

I closed my mouth and studied them.  "Tony," I scrambled, "I must have made a 
mistake!"

He laughed snidely.  

"Kimberly," he smirked, "I have to ask you for your receipts now".  

I swallowed.  My hands were beginning to tremble.  

I was desperate.

I looked up at him, pleadingly.  "Tony," I whispered, "You've got to let me 
change these..."  

He smirked playfully at me.  "What's in it for me?" he asked.  He put his hand 
on my shoulder.  

"Please let me change them," I begged him.  "I--I can't lose my job right now..."

His eyes dropped to the level of my breasts.  I caught myself looking down as 
well.

His hand began tracing a line down the front of my blouse.  He stopped just 
above my nipple.  He patted me.  I realized I had closed my eyes.

I looked down at my lap and then into his eyes.  There was no mistaking his 
intentions.  

"You'll let me change these, Tony?" I asked.

He smiled at me and began to slide his other hand along my thigh. I saw his 
hand disappear beneath my skirt.  "Maybe, Kim," he said.  "Like I said:  It 
depends on what's in it for me."

Me continued to look at me, and when he saw I was going to let him, he leaned 
down and kissed me on the mouth.  His hand continued along my thigh.  I felt 
him through my panties.  He squeezed my breast again, harder.  I couldn't help 
myself:  I opened my mouth for him; I raised my hips.  He twisted the front 
panel of my panties aside, and I felt his finger at my opening.  He entered me, 
roughly, all at once.  The sensation was unbelievable.  I couldn't believe how 
slutty I felt, yet how incredibly erotic.  He told me to meet him later.  I let 
him put his wet finger to my lips.  I felt like a whore, but my heart was 
pounding in my chest.

I can't say what I did next I was just for my job.  That was part of it, of 
course.  I wouldn't have done it otherwise, and God knows I couldn't afford to 
get fired.  

I told myself that I was doing it for my family; for my children, for my job, 
even for my husband.  The other part of it was:  I'd liked the way his hands 
had felt on me, and I wanted him to touch me again.  

I met him in a conference room at noon.  I made sure nobody saw me go in there, 
and shut the door carefully behind me.  I was ashamed of myself.  He grinned at 
me with a look of naked lust.  I was humiliated at how he looked at me when he 
saw me come in the room like that.  "What a slut," I thought, "sneaking into a 
room to be with a man who was not her husband."  

I almost backed out, but he took me in his arms and kissed me, pressing my body 
against his.  I could feel every part of him; I felt even his dick, stiffening 
against my belly.  His hands caressed me through my dress, pressing against the 
backs of my thighs and my ass.  I felt a rush of pleasure as his tongue 
penetrated my mouth; I felt my body melt against him.

He stepped back and admired me.  He told me to unbutton the back of my dress, 
and I obediently did what he told me.  He grasped my dress at my hips, and 
pulled it not-gently up over my head, tossing it to the floor.  I stood before 
him in my bra and panties, still breathing hard from the kiss he'd given me.  
He examined me. 

"Kimberly," he said, "you have no idea how good this is going to be."  A guilty 
thrill ran through me when I heard him say that.  He told me he wanted to see 
me naked, and I hesitated for only a moment before unhooking my bra and sliding 
my panties down around my knees. 

He smiled and wet his lips.  The look of animal lust in his eyes made me 
quiver.  I couldn't remember when a man had looked at me so boldly and 
appreciatively.  My nipples stiffened under his gaze, and I felt a trickle 
between my legs.  My sense of shame increased as I realized how slutty I must 
look to him, with my panties around my knees.

He took my head and neck in his strong hands and I submitted to him.  I let him 
kiss me and run his hands up and down my body.  I wanted his finger inside me 
again, but he pushed me away.  He told me to get up on the table.  

He openly admired me while I sat there, legs apart, grasping the edge of the 
table with my hands.  "This is going to be fucking great," he said, staring at 
my pussy.  He put his finger in my mouth, and then he shoved it in my pussy.  I 
watched him do it.  He used one, two, and finally all four fingers to finger-
fuck me on the table.  I felt myself begin to move against him.  I groaned very 
quietly.

He pulled his fingers out of me and he pushed me back on the table.  He pulled 
my hips up, and then bent his face down toward me.  When his tongue touched my 
clitoris I felt a rush of pleasure.  I squealed for him.  I covered my face 
with my hands as I felt him suck me into his mouth.  This was something a man 
had never done to me, though it was something I often thought about.  It felt 
even better than I'd imagined.  The pleasure was indescribable.  When I came I 
stuffed my fist into my mouth to stifle my cries, and then I moaned and 
slobbered around my fingers.  He stood up, his face slick with my come.  He 
studied me for a moment.  I remember lying there, my chest heaving from my 
orgasm; my legs still open wide for him.  I wondered what he'd do to me next.  

"I want to watch you to suck my cock," he said.  Lying naked on the table, my 
legs spread for him, my cunt-juices dripping onto the conference room table, I 
didn't care how he talked to me.  It made me even wetter.  I wondered if his 
dick was bigger than my husband's, and then I found myself hoping that it was.

His dick, when he pulled it out, was indeed a big dick, magnificently large and 
swollen.  I raised my head so I could see it.  He motioned to me and I crawled 
toward him on the table.  He held it up to my lips, and I licked it for him, 
looking up and watching him watch me do it.  He put his fingers in my mouth and 
I licked and sucked his fingers for him too, knowing I was tasting my own 
juices on his fingers.  I didn't care.

He rubbed his cock across my lips and cheeks.  A little bit of his come leaked 
out of his dick and he rubbed it on my cheek.  It made me feel sexy, knowing it 
was there.  I would have let him cum in my mouth if he had wanted!  But he 
turned me around so my pussy was facing him again.  

I hoped he'd put his fingers inside me again.  He pulled my legs wide apart and 
held them in the air.  I closed my eyes.  I wanted desperately to cum.  I felt 
him touch my opening.  I felt his shoulders on the backs of my thighs, and his 
hands encircling my waist.

Perhaps I'm really stupid:  I should have known what was about to come.  But in 
that instant I felt a sense of panic.  Despite everything he'd already done to 
me, I was unprepared.  I wasn't ready.  I tried to open my mouth, to ask about 
a condom; I tried to squirm away.  But he lifted me off the table and pulled me 
onto him.  I felt my pussy expand around him; he slid deep, deep inside me.  So 
deep I felt a little pain.  

Suddenly I couldn't believe this was me, lying there, with this man's cock in 
my pussy, knowing he was about to shoot his sperm in me.  I had been loyal to 
my husband all those years. I wondered if he would make me pregnant.  My 
husband and I had been trying for a third for years, but I knew this could be 
different.  It was uncomfortable at first, he was so much bigger than my 
husband.  I was terrified to cry out, for fear someone would hear me, and he 
ignored my quiet pleas.  

He pinned me against the table, and he savagely pounded himself into me.  The 
sensation was overpowering.  I was helplessly trapped under him, unable to move 
or cry out.  He fucked me hard, and he fucked me violently, pounding himself 
deeper and deeper into me, and jerking my body onto him with each thrust, 
completely filling me up.  Eventually I began to respond to him.  My pussy 
clenched itself around him, waves of pleasure radiated from around his cock.  I 
was panting, soon, and moaning.  

When he saw me responding, he began to talk to me.

"Tell... me..." I said, "how... much... you... like... getting... fucked..." I gasped and 
tossed my head.  He continued pounding me.  I couldn't deny the pleasure he was 
giving me.

He repeated his command:  "Tell... me... how... much... you... LIKE... getting... FUCKED...!" 

I tossed my head again, but I found myself wanting to do it, wanting to 
humiliate myself completely.  I felt an orgasm building up inside me.    

He slapped my ass with his hand, making a terrifyingly loud smacking noise.  

"I do... I do..." I moaned.  "Oh God...  Oh God... Oh please... don't stop..."

"TELL ME!" he demanded.  He smacked me again.

"OH GOD..." I moaned.  "Oh please...  please, please, oh please FUCK ME! Oh please 
fuck me, FUCK... ME...!"

He came inside me then, his cock throbbing deep in my pussy.  "Oh God," I 
cried, "Oh God, please cum inside me... CUM inside my pussy!"  He leaned forward 
and squeezed my tits in his hands, continuing to cum.  I wanted him to squeeze 
me harder.

He groaned. I wrapped my legs around him, squeezing him against me; wanting him 
deep, deep inside me.  He squeezed me harder.  I came for him like that, 
knowing he might have just made me pregnant.  It felt so good I thought I might 
die with his cock inside me.  

I worked the rest of the day with his come dripping into my panties.  He left 
bruises on my breasts.  


In the afterglow of my orgasm I didn't feel any real shame for what I'd done. 
When I opened the door to my own home, however, and saw my husband I felt a 
sense of panic that was almost overwhelming.  I was terrified that my husband 
would smell or taste the evidence of Tony on me.  

I left him standing there and took a scalding shower.  The red marks on my 
breasts would not wash off, of course, but I washed his cum off of me and tried 
to wash it out of me as well.  

I felt horrible.  I was too embarrassed to let my husband make love to me that 
night, but when I dreamed I dreamed of Tony.  

I knew I'd let him do me again, and I did.  I let him take me in the conference 
room the very next day.  

He fucked me from behind this time, bending my naked body face down on the big 
table.  The possibility of getting caught like that, I think, just made me that 
much wetter.  I came before he did, anticipating his spunk in my womb.  He used 
my panties to wipe the table and handed them back to me.  I put them in my 
purse and walked around like that for a while, his jism dripping down my 
thighs.  

He fucked me whenever he wanted after that.  He took me in the bathroom, where 
he had me blow him on my knees.  He came on my tongue and down my throat, and 
then he squirted some on my lips and cheeks as well.  He made me clean his cock 
with his tongue and then he fingered me to orgasm.  He used my panties to clean 
his cum off my face.  I came that time almost as hard as I had when he'd fucked 
me.    

He had me meet him in a motel, late at night.  I had to sneak out of the bed of 
my husband, praying he wouldn't wake.  He tied me up.  He fucked me tied spread-
eagle, the ropes biting my wrists and legs.  I came like that, while he 
threatened to put it in my ass.  

He took me to his apartment.  He felt me up while his girlfriend watched us, 
then he fucked me on their bed, and sent me home.  

I knew things were out of control.  I lived in terror.  I was wracked with 
guilt.  I wanted to cry every time I said "no" to my husband, because Tony had 
just cum inside me, or his marks had not yet faded.  I felt even worse when I 
did let my husband have me, wondering if he could tell my pussy was freshly 
fucked.  After being with Tony, I had to pretend when I was with my husband.

This went on for about four and a half weeks.  Tony's dominion over me became 
more and more complete.  The more I gave into him, the more demeaning and 
degrading his demands became.  

I admit I enjoyed the sex.  But I hated myself after.  Once he called me at 
home, during dinner, and told me to come to his apartment.  I had to leave my 
family so I could service him.  The stress was intolerable.  I would 
hyperventilate in church, imagining what the people would think if they knew 
what a slut I'd become.  
.  
I was relieved then, when Tony was assigned to another branch.  It 
was "temporary," but there were rumors it would become permanent, and I prayed 
that it would.  I promised myself that if Tony did come back, I would never let 
him have me again, regardless of the consequences.  

Then things got much worse for me.  

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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