I Married A Blow Job Queen Ch. 03

“Mmmmm.”

“Jerk it while you suck it, honey, oh yea, more like that. Oh that’s so wonderful. I love your mouth on my cock,” said the horny man. “I have to sit down or you’ll give me a heart attack….no, no, stay on your knees, Mrs. Roberts. Come over here. Now get up on the couch.”

There was some movement, and my wife apparently knelt on the couch in Mr. Johnson’s office I had sat on countless times myself.

“We don’t have long,” she panted.

“Then suck, woman, suck,” was his practiced reply.

The man moaned a little and commented on my wife’s cocksucking technique. He loved it. Who didn’t? He also loved my wife’s ass, as he apparently was playing with it while getting sucked off.

“You have a nice ass, Mrs. Roberts. Oh yes, and I love your garters and stockings. It is so hot having you suck my dick in such an outfit. Women today wear that darn pantyhose, which is a shame. Your stockings look great on you. You must drive your students nuts when you bend over.”

“Muffsleskl. Thsamrl Yoou.” My wife said something with the man’s dick in her mouth, but whatever she said was not discernable. I think she was thanking him for the compliment, but who knows?

The man began pleading for my wife not to stop sucking his dick. “Oh, yes, Mrs. Roberts, oh yes. You make my dick so big. You suck my cock like a pro. Go, baby, yes. Suck my big dick. Suck it.”

Apparently he loved it, because it wasn’t long before I heard the telltale words. “Oh yes, I’m cumming. Yes!!! Swallow it all, you cocksucker. Suckkkkit.”

I couldn’t hear much for a couple minutes, but apparently the cheating twosome were making themselves presentable. They made some small talk, he thanked her at least twice for being so accommodating, and told her he’d like a replay over the weekend.

“But Jon will be home!”

“Make an excuse to go shopping for a bit, it won’t be long. Samantha is going to her mother’s Saturday afternoon and I’d like us to get together. I don’t want to wait until next week to have your lips around my cock. Call me on my cell phone and give me a time, okay? I can’t wait for you to suck my dick again, but I do have to get to a meeting now!”

I heard the door open and Mr. Johnson talk to his secretary about heading to his meeting. The last words I heard were he thanking my wife for her “hard work” on the special project. Special project indeed!

I should have known it. Once a cocksucker, always a cocksucker. There was a reason my wife had been known as the Blow Job Queen of Ridley High. I just didn’t know it until after we were married, and I surely thought she was over it. Apparently not, because even after threatening to leave her, even after agreeing to special conditions for her to stray from our martial bed, you name it, she still betrayed me with my best friend, with my boss and who knows whom else. She might have blow the division president to get my promotion. Maybe sucked off the entire board of directors.

With the help of Mrs. Perkins I was clued into when the lying twosome would get together. They never met for more than an hour at the office, normally 30 minutes or less. Sometimes they had a lunch rendezvous, where my wife would blow the old geezer right in his Cadillac. How they were never caught was a mystery, although my guess was that they had been spied on at one time or another. Heck, giving a guy a blowjob in his car in a restaurant parking lot or mall garage during broad daylight is bound to draw an accidental voyeur.

Mrs. Perkins told me that the two were having lunch at Frank’s Diner one Wednesday, and I made a special trip back home that morning and actually watched the cheating twosome in action. They parked behind the diner, and after a quick lunch the two escaped to his car where she had a quick desert of cock au natural. She knelt on the passenger seat and dipped her head onto his lap, and while I couldn’t see the entire action I did see her head bobbing. After only a few minutes his head pushed back and his hand held her head. A minute later her head appeared and she wiped something off her lips. I didn’t need a picture to know what happened.

That afternoon Mr. Johnson called me into his office and told me I was doing a good job, and that I had a wonderful wife who was willing to go the extra mile to get things done on the charity event. I thanked him, but what I really wanted to do was beat the living crap out of him. That didn’t happen, though, as the almighty dollar was too important to me. But after my second sparkling performance appraisal and a promotion to district manager, I felt it was time to end the charade.

It was a Saturday, and I would bet dollars to donuts that my wife had been with Mr. Johnson, or someone with an active dick, that afternoon. This woman arrived home having blown someone that day, and it wasn’t me. My bastard boss had probably heard from my wife and got his cock cleaned and drained by her talented lips. I calmly sat her down and handed her the divorce papers, complete with a transcript of the tape and several copies of incriminating photos I had a private detective take. Those items, along with several candid interviews of some of her past conquests made a tidy package, and she couldn’t suck her way out of this predicament.

I wasn’t a totally vindictive man. I realized I had allowed some of the escapades to occur. I made her my offer of a settlement and she readily accepted. She got the house and a small monthly stipend, which, when added to her schoolteacher’s pay made ends meet. She wasn’t living the high life, but she wasn’t destitute.

I moved to an apartment near work and devoted myself to the job. Never once did I confront the boss, who Mrs. Perkins believed was living in fear that I would disclose his indiscretions to his lovely life Samantha. I didn’t, though, preferring to have him wait and wonder, knowing I had him by the balls. Heck my wife had him by the balls, literally, while I merely had him figuratively.

Ultimately he took a different job with the company while I was promoted to his slot. It was great to know that dear Mrs. Perkins, his secretary for more than 20 years, refused to go with the man to his new assignment, choosing to remain in friendlier confines as my assistant.

Irony of ironies occurred about a year later when Mrs. Perkins buzzed me. “Mrs. Roberts to see you, sir.”

Mrs. Roberts? There is no Mrs. Roberts anymore. But there was, as my ex-wife appeared at the door late one Friday afternoon. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I would drop by. Could we talk? In private?” she added, nodding at the door.

I figured she wouldn’t bite, so I shut the door and sat on the couch next to her.

“I know you are busy, Jon, so I will get right to the point.” My ex-wife wove a tale of how the money was tight and that it was tough keeping up the house. She said she didn’t want to move, and wondered, pleaded, if I’d agree to a slight addition to her alimony check.

I told her she was in no position to be asking me such an outrageous question, and how it was she who had caused all the problems in our marriage. Years of cuckoldry had made me dislike the woman, as everyone in the Tri-State area, it seemed, knew that she was the easiest fellatrix in the Valley.

The woman was shocked with my response, but soon that little smile crept into her eyes. “Couldn’t we come up with a little bit of an accommodation to help me out?” she cooed.

My ex-wife knew how to play to a crowd, and this crowd was in my pants. She slipped to her knees in front of me and opened my zipper. Reaching inside, she pulled out a hardening cock. “Oh, there’s my little monster. I’ve missed you!” she said with a smile, licking my mushrooming cock and rubbing it along her cheeks. Nancy Jean rubbed my dick, and then stroked it while looking up at me. “Couldn’t you help just a little insy winsy teenie weenie bit?” she cooed.

I was under the spell. “Suck it!” was my reply.

“Help me?” was hers.

The offer was too good for me to pass up, dislike or not. “Okay, okay, I’ll help you. Now suck it.”

And suck my cock she did. It didn’t matter that she was a blowjob queen, or that she had blown more than a hundred men while married to me. It didn’t matter that she had blown her way through high school, sucked my closest friend on the night of my bachelor party, and licked the dicks of my best friend and my boss. All that mattered this afternoon was she was sucking my dick.

She blew me, and why not, it is what she does best. Love her or hate her, Nancy Jean Roberts is an outstanding cocksucker.

She sucked me, alternating slow, sensuous licks up, down and around my mushrooming cock. She stroked my rock-hard dick, jerking it off while looking me in the eyes. She kissed my bouncing balls, licked between my balls and my asshole. She quietly mouthed nasty words while stroking me, then slowly put my dick back into her mouth where she was content to bob her head up and down my shank.

I hadn’t cum in a while, so my former wife was blasted with a quart of sticky cumsauce, most of which she took down her throat but some of which made its way to her cheeks. She stroked my dick against her face, rubbing the cum into her creamy skin.

Looking down at her, I told her I had a meeting to get to, and she nodded her head in practiced understanding. She wiped her face with a Kleenex and started out the door, reminding me that she could use a boost in her monthly check.

I nodded, and told her she could seal the deal by visiting me in my office Wednesday afternoons after school. She nodded her agreement.

Nancy Jean left the office and I picked up a couple folders from my desk. I straightened my tie, and then strode out of my office.

My secretary gave me a knowing look.

“Ah, Mrs. Perkins,” I said with some embarrassment. “Pencil in a weekly meeting with Mrs. Roberts for 4 p.m. on Wednesdays.”

“Yes sir!” she said with a smile, knowing full well what would happen at that meeting. “Will 15 minutes be enough, or should I block a half hour.”

“You know the drill, 15 minutes should be fine,” I replied. “Oh, and remind me to give you my tape recorder before that meeting, not after!”

We laughed at the little joke.