Candi and Our New Arrangement Ch. 02

The tryst with Candi that morning really charged me up and I used that momentum to go for a long run. My legs and back reminded me of my sedentary ways with every stride but I did not care. The memory of Candi's lips throttling me just minutes earlier propelled me forward but presented other challenges. Jogging in your late forties is hard enough, I didn't need to present my upper class neighbors and their children with sight of the swollen monster between my legs rearing its head as I shambled down the block.

When I returned home half an hour later, Candi had already left for work. She left only a small white notecard with a red lipstick kiss waiting for me by the coffee machine.

One of the perks of being COO of a successful company should be the feeling of control and power that you walk in the office with each morning but the daily grind had dulled my once youthful prowess. Meetings felt endless thanks to the asinine comments everyone needed to throw-in, board members constantly wanted answers about why our cost of labor went up a fraction of a percent, and mid-managers were constantly fighting for attention and affirmation.

This day felt different, though. When I pushed open the glass door to the office that day, my head was up and it felt like anything was possible. I greeted Tia, the part-time postgraduate student who watched our front desk, with a hearty good morning and actually felt like we connected while she explained some obscure detail about some avant garde art gallery she was trying to worm her way into.

Arriving at the executive corner of the office usually came with a handful of memos and contracts to review from Dot, our executive assistant. Without hesitation, I always pushed them right back to her, asking for little post-it notes to be added to mark the parts "I actually need to read."

This day was different, though. Dot hesitantly presented the usual stack of paperwork to me and I proudly declared:

"Thank you, Dot. I'll take it from here."

Her jaw dropped and her reading glasses slid downward to the end of her nose. Without the glasses covering her eyes, I was reminded of a time before she needed reading glasses, a time when her face was a little slimmer and crows feet weren't forming around those big blue eyes. I remembered the younger woman that the executive team hired once upon a time, and couldn't help but comment that "If I weren't married..." every time she left the room in a tight fitting skirt.

We did this to her, I thought, caused her to age before her time. There wasn't much I could do about the stress I caused her through the last decade but my newfound virility made me at least want to bring back that ever-optimistic smile.

I swung back into her office, pulled out my wallet and dropped a credit card on her desk in front of her still-stoned face.

"Lunch is on me today. Just wanted to say a small thanks. Whatever you want... actually meet some friends, take extra time."

My heart lifted when I saw her expression soften and that bright smile bubbled up.

"Wow, thanks, Jackson. That's... really nice of you," she stammered back.

"Nice." I couldn't remember a coworker calling me "nice" in a long time.

The book-like stack of documents accompanying me to my office was heavy and scratched the inside of my hand when I dropped it on my desk with a thud. It was full of vendor contracts and health insurance nonsense but I dove in, diligently marking up every page. This was why Dominic, the CEO and former wunderkind, recruited me in the first place. I was a hammer looking for a nail in my younger years and it felt good to rekindle my bureaucratic prowess.

***

"Coffee?" Came a sweet voice from the doorway.

I had almost forgotten what Dot sounded like when she was trying to please me. Years of handing down marching orders and childish requests had taken its toll on our working relationship. Now, she was standing in the doorway, holding my mug at a right angle away from her body, with the other hand resting high up on the frame. The picture in front of me was like a still frame from a classic movie.

Once upon a time, I was a little more than enamored with Dot. The comments Dom and I made every time she left the room had turned into real attraction in my mind. Strangely, it wasn't her pretty face or petite frame that caught my attention. When she got pregnant with her first child, something triggered inside me. I couldn't tell if it was pheromones or just my own memories of when Candi and I tried to keep our relationship hot and romantic during her pregnancy, but there was something about that little belly that Dot developed that called to me. I wanted her. I wanted to see her sitting naked in front of me with those swollen breasts pressing out from her chest. I wanted to be inside her fertile body and to feel her lifeforce filling me.

In the perspective of the last decade, that obsession left almost as soon as it arrived. Seeing her in that doorway, though, with her arms extended and her pen knotted up in her short curly hair, reminded me of that instinct once more. Time conspired with the pregnancies to add a little extra padding around Dot's hips and behind and it softened the sharp jaw she arrived with but the essence of the younger woman was still there.

"Yes, thank you... Jesus, what time is it?" I asked, checking my watch in an attempt to break the spell that had fallen over me. This gave me the cover I needed to quickly hop up, grab the mug, and retreat back to my desk, hoping she would forgive any awkward staring.

"Wow. Damn fine coffee!" I exclaimed, smacking my lips. She didn't laugh at the reference and awkwardly retreated through the door.

It was nearly eleven and I had lost track of time in my newfound zeal for my work. My hands were suddenly fumbling in my pockets, as if by instinct.

"Show me," was the two word sentence I sent to my wife.

I waited with baited breath, trying not to stare at my phone. Finally, I felt that familiar buzz in my pocket. Looking out my door, the coast was clear, but I still only found the courage to raise the the phone under my desk just enough so I could see it.

There was a photo attached to my wife's message of her shadowy thighs and, if I squinted, just a hint of her pubic hair was squeezed between them.

"Not good enough. Lift the dress. I need to see all the way inside."

Now my heart was racing. What had I just done? How embarrassed would I be if she refused? What if that was the text that got my wife fired?

No such tragedy befell us, though. About thirty seconds later, my phone buzzed. There was a new photo. This wasn't like the one with the phone half-stuffed between my wife's knees. In this picture, she was standing in front of a mirror in her office's one-person bathroom and the camera was pointed down at her crotch. I was sure it was my wife, in spite of the limited perspective from the camera. That was her light brown pubic hair. Those were her milky thighs and pointy knees. Her blue dress was pulled up to her waist in front, just enough to frame the top of the inverted triangle shape of her pubic hair. Jutting out from the soft hair at the nadir of her lower torso were her inviting labia folds.

"Well done." I texted back.

More silence followed from Candi, during which time I realized I was hard. An erection was standing straight up between my legs, and I realized that had not happened in public in a very long time.

"Any other wishes?" She texted back after a few minutes.

"None. But I am going to give that thing such a tongue lashing when I get home..." I fired back.

Just the thought of bending her over the bed and pressing my face between her spread legs was inspiring a twitch in my pants. I longed to feel her soft thighs squeezing my cheeks while my tongue stretched to reach deep inside her pussy. I wanted to feel her pubic hair tickle my chin and spread its dampness across my mouth.

***

My newfound work ethic bought some much needed instant karma for me that day. My morning and mid-afternoon meetings featured no asine comments from the chucklefucks in the peanut gallery. Maybe my face just showed them I wasn't just going to sit back in the corner and zone out anymore. I was watching and they had better be at their sharpest. Dot dropped my credit card back at my desk at three pm sharp. She was beaming after her two hour lunch. I didn't ask for a receipt and silently slipped the heavy black card back into my wallet.

It felt good to give myself a full slate of work to plow through to distract my brain from thoughts of my wife's curvy thighs and big breasts. It felt like I was finally working for something, not just to come home after dinner to an empty house, but to rush home to be with my wife, again. She wanted me and needed me and I was really starting to like the idea of what was to come. When I finally left work, it was seven pm. I was the last to leave. I dropped the top in my little coupe and let the wind tousle my hair all the way home. My boxers were sticky from my pre-cum and I liked the feeling of that dirty little secret.

***

"Candi?" I didn't shout as much as let my voice carry through our large entryway. The house smelled like something delicious and it made my stomach roar. That was when I noticed Candi.

She paused only for a moment at the top of the stairs. The fluttering black fabric from her babydoll lingerie lingered behind her bouncing ass for a moment. My stomach quieted, my hunger was no longer for the food downstairs. Unconsciously, I climbed the stairs. With each step, my mind grew more focused and my resolve tightened: before the night was up, I would make her beg.

Inside our bedroom, Candi sat on the end of the bed in her naturally rigid posture. Her face was turned to me - those big kind eyes were soft and subdued. Her plump breasts pressed outward, testing the cups in her otherwise sheer top.

"Stand up," I commanded.

She rose, still facing me, and placed a hand anxiously on the silver pendant dangling from her necklace. I approached, measuring each step and extending my hands at just the last moment to spin her around by her hips. She gasped and caught herself. Her shoulder length brown hair settled in place just for a moment before I reached up and brushed it to the side, making room for my lips at the back of her neck.

Another quiet gasp passed through her lips. I knew where all of her sensitive spots were and I planned to make use of them. My hands worked her soft shoulders while my lips traced a line up the side of her sensitive neck. She tried to place a hand on my cheek but I pulled it back to the side of her hip.

"Somebody has been very naughty," I said in a firm but breathy tone. My hands shifted to knead into her shoulders.

"I have?" She asked sweetly. The tone made my cock jump in my slacks.

"Sending dirty pictures from work? Tsk Tsk. Bend over, my dear."

Candi slowly leaned forward, extending two pale arms in front of her head as she pressed forward onto the bed. Her round ass was now sticking up in the air. A full frilly pair of panties covered her big behind and I wasn't going to stand for that. My hands pulled the fabric down just below the base of her thick cheeks. Then, I spanked her right cheek, sending a shockwave that jiggled through the thick flesh.

A squeal went up from Candi's mouth and I waited for her to tell me to stop. I was sure something would go wrong, this would all end, and we would go back to our mundane weekly sex. It didn't end, though. With her right hand, she waved me on.

"What a dirty little slut you've been," I whispered sternly. The spank came from my left hand this time, and it left a mark.

My hands went exploring, up between her thighs. They pawed at the soft pubic hair they found just below her waist and then stroked the thick wet lips they found beneath.

"This pussy is all wet," I said, as though surprised. "I'm going to have to lick it all clean, I guess."

Dropping to my knees, I yanked her panties to her ankles. My hands explored, again, climbing up the insides of her thighs. They drew a sigh and a high moan. They didn't stop until they were fingering her wet opening and playing with her clit. My lips followed, lapping at the bottom of her dangling labia and then pressing up to spread them wide apart.

"Oh, my god... Jax..." Candi began to moan. She was going to be as loud as she wanted to be now that it was just us in the house and it couldn't have excited me more.

My mouth moved faster, I didn't just want to make her cum, I wanted to make her squirm and writhe. I wanted to taste her juices as they flowed over my tongue. I hummed a little tune and it didn't take long for me to get my wish.

"Fuck, Jax, I'm cumming...I'm...Argh!" Candi wailed and her hips bucked up against my lips. My mouth and chin were covered with her juices.

"OK... OK... you can stop if you'd like,," she pleaded after a moment, but it was clear she wanted more. Her hips were still bucking and her tone was far from exasperated.

My tongue fluttered back up against the juicy bud high in her slit and she groaned again and fell back to the bed. Both hands clenched her thick ass and my fingers cheated inward, teasing the edge of her hole. This time, the orgasm took longer, but I could watch it rise in her body from my inverted angle beneath her squirming thighs.. First, her belly began a series of short but full breaths. Then, she reached for her hanging tits that were still trapped inside the black cups. Soon, they were hanging freely, though, and her hands quickly grasped and clenched handfuls of her heaving breasts. Finally, the release came.

"Oh, my god..." she was squealing. This was the first time in years I had made her cum twice in the same night, let alone twice in the same half hour. Her legs shook and her knees buckled but I did not relent until her body fell limply into the bed.

"Stay here," I instructed.

With a face full of wife-cum, I made my way into the bathroom. I washed my hands and mouth of her sticky fluids. I tried to think of a way to top my performance, and then an idea came to me.

Back inside the bedroom, I calmly crossed around the bed where Candi was laying face down with her ass still bent over the side. My wife's underwear door easily slid open and I reached inside to retrieve the toy I had purchased for her just a couple years ago. I didn't think her battery powered magic wand had seen much use, but I occasionally noticed that it had shifted when I put away underwear for Candi. Such was the case on that night. The little wand with the big rubber ball for a tip was sitting on top of her folded underwear, waiting for me.

The wand sprung to life when I pressed the on button. "Someone has been charging her little toy."

Candi's head turned to me. Her posture screamed exhaustion but her big puppy dog eyes begged for more. She pressed down into the mattress, arched her back, and prepared her body for another onslaught. Those voluminous breasts hung forward, nipples still kissing the top of the coverlet. I set the vibrator to low but left it running so she could hear what was coming before she could feel it.

"We can stop if you really want...?" I asked, firmly. It was rhetorical.

"More..." she begged.

Her back and sides flexed and contracted in short irregular spurts. I remembered this sort of anxious breathing. It was how she breathed the first time we had sex. That was so many years ago, in the backseat of a car following a concert. There was something about the anticipation of the vibrator that was exciting her, I realized. And something about this felt new to her, too.

First, I lowered the vibrating toy just fractions of an inch over the small of her back. The little dimples on either side puckered and released and then I plunged it downward.

"Mmmmmmm..."

Life returned to her exhausted body and I watched her plump ass gyrate in small circles. I wanted to get closer, so I circled back behind her body while the magic wand continued its work.

"Now I'm going to make it go fast. You can beg if you want, but it's not going to slow down."

I wanted Candi to feel threatened and to know I was in complete control. Of course I would have stopped if she begged, but the feeling of control was driving me wild. My cock stiffened under my slacks and I pressed the thumb-shaped switch on the wand upward.

The wand buzzed with more intensity and drifted, almost on its own, down the bottom of her spine until it slipped past Candi's pulsing asshole to the fleshy curtains down below. It split her sopping wet labia and found a home between them. Candi's body spasmed and twitched. Her back jostled and wiggled. She clenched and released.

"Who does this pussy belong to?" I shouted.

"You..." she winced.

"Whose pussy is this!?"

"Yours, Jax... Oh!"

"Who can make you cum better than anyone?!"

"Fuck...y-y-y-... you! Only you!"

She squealed and her hands balled up the blankets beneath her body. Her hips writhed and rotated around the buzzing toy between her legs. A gush of her fluids rolled down my fingers until it dripped from my wrist.

"That's what I thought." I flipped the wand off. Its task was completed. A sucking sound smacked between my wife's legs as I pulled the head out from her soaked lips. Next, I heard a soft thud as it fell from my hand to the mattress beside Candi. She was fighting to keep her posture - for my benefit, I assumed.

To my surprise, she was still struggling to hold her body in that bent position over the bed when I returned. There would be no more orgasms for her at that moment, though. My stomach was empty and I wanted whatever I had smelled on the way in.

"Collect yourself, then put this on and come serve dinner to me," I instructed and then tossed a white apron across Candi's back.

Striding down our stairwell, I could feel a trail of warm pre-cum drooling down my leg. Containing my own desires as I forced my wife to cum over and over was quite the thrill. I had always liked being in control - being the boss - but, for some reason, it had never completely spilled over into the bedroom. I liked this new dynamic - I mean I really liked it - and I got a charge just from sitting at the dining room table, alone, dreaming up all of the sordid scenarios I could concoct for Candi.

Finally, after I thought the pit in my stomach couldn't get any deeper, I heard Candi in the kitchen. A few moments later, she appeared in my periphery. Her pale hand folded a single white napkin on top of the white linen cloth on the table. On top of the napkin, she set a large spoon with utmost care. Next, came a large white bowl containing beef stew, my favorite. She disappeared for a moment, but returned with a glass of dry red wine.

My hand reached for the napkin, dumping the spoon onto the table, and I made a show of unfolding it and tucking it into my collar. Rather than heed my stomach's call, I decided to give myself a little reward for my earlier work. My hand dipped to my fly where it unzipped the zipper from top to bottom. I made sure it was nice and wide so Candi would understand my inference. Then, I pulled my chair until my crotch was fully under the table, grabbed the spoon, and helped myself to the most flavorful bowl of stew I had ever tasted.

Candi walked slowly down the long edge of the table. I watched her big bottom heave and sway as she strutted silently away from my end of the table. The white apron was tied around her waist and the tie hung across her shapely hips. I could see how her large breasts pulled the skin on her back downward on the sides of her body. How long had it been since I had the chance to take in this view without her darting out of sight?

The rearview of my wife's curves lasted a few more moments before she crouched and then slipped beneath the linen cloth hanging from the table. I continued my measured assault on the stew but waiting with anxious anticipation for what came next.