The Devil's Sweet Lies

Richard, naked, lying between that sweet whore’s legs. Thighs spread around his hips, feet in the air. Arms wrapped around his back, those pretty, always painted nails digging in. Unable to take their eyes off each other, he whispered odes of love to her face, her lips replying with her own words, dirtier, filthy, begging like the slut she was. The muscles in his buttocks flex every time his hips thrust down, every time his cock thrusts in. Harder than he’d ever been, her pussy tighter than any he’d ever known, their bodies writhed together atop his martial bed.

Alexa on top, her nubile body completely displayed as she rode him. Every inch of her skin shining from sweat and sex, not a wrinkle or cellulite to her name. His hands roam over her, gripping her hips, squeezing her ass, kneading her tits. Perky, youthful tits, full and round that still sit high upon her chest, defying gravity but bouncing like no bodies business when she drops down on his dick over and over. Maybe she’d had better, maybe she’d had bigger, but it didn’t matter. It was the thrill of the win. Another man successfully seduced. Another pitiful, pathetic wife left to drown her sorrows at the march of time.

Side by side, him mounting her like a bitch in heat, fucking every which way that they could, the images plagued Olivia Walker’s every thought. In their bed, on the office desk, the kitchen counters, her favorite chair in the living room where she liked to read late at night; in her mind there wasn’t a single surface that went untainted by their fornications. When she closed her eyes, she could see them in front of her, as clear as day. It was almost possible to hear them, her moaning like a pornstar, him whispering like a chant, over and over, how much of a better fuck she was than his wife, to the beat of their bodies colliding together again and again.

Shaking her head and opening her eyes, the thoughts didn’t leave her. She looked to the bottle and found it empty. She looked to the clock and wondered how long Gavin had been gone. There was no good reason for her to be waiting; she told him that she would be at the office, but she didn’t truly expect him to return tonight. Staggering to her feet, she considered finding a hotel or a motel for the night. She just couldn’t face her husband yet. In the morning, she’d come back, sobered up, and maybe Gavin would have some good news for her. The small glimmer of hope that crossed her mind was immediately replaced with new image, Richard going about his morning routine, taking his daily shower, aided this time by Alexa who purred as she cleaned his cock.

Throwing down a hand onto the conference table, she steadied herself. Dizziness made it difficult to walk straight, partly because she was very, very tipsy, partly because her brain was swimming with ideas of her husband’s infidelity. Though usually quite a controlled and temperate woman, Olivia had been blind drunk before, so she knew the feeling and knew she wasn’t quite there, but she was close. Memories of college, studying for her journalist degree, peppered in with some wild frat parties that saw her end the night puking into a toilet. Even her memories weren’t free from the influence of that relentless succubus though, the picture in her mind morphing, corrupted, into a vision of Alexa, the hot sorority girl in a short, pleated skirt, tempting the professor.

An inner warmth washed over her and, feeling flush, she slumped back into her chair. A little rest and she’d be able to leave. On the table, her phone remained unmoved. Richard hadn’t even tried to call or sent a message to even see if she was alright. He didn’t seem to care that she wasn’t coming home. Surely, she told herself, if he wasn’t out somewhere, fucking that little harlot, he would have asked about her. Not that Olivia had sent any such messages or tried to call either, the pair of them both playing chicken with each other’s love.

“Oh good, you’re still here.”

Her head whipped around so quick that it almost made her sick. Gavin stood by the door; a smile plastered across his lips. Without thinking, she ran over and hugged him. Her mind was a wreck, unsure what was real and what wasn't any more, she initially thought that he was a mirage until she grabbed him and pulled him close. That inner heat flowed through her and into him, especially where her large breasts were smashed almost flat against his broad chest. This was wholly inappropriate, a small voice in the back of her head still realized that, but she didn’t care anymore.

“I’m so happy to see you, to see anyone,” she said, slipping away from him and wiping her eyes. “Please, tell me you have good news.”

But his face said it all. He did not have good news.

From behind his back, he produced a folder. Indicating that she should take a seat, he placed the folder on the desk and opened it to reveal a small stack of A4 photos inside, blown up to make the action they showed immediately obvious. Olivia leaned forward in her chair, **** to know, and stared at the first picture. There was her husband in his office, papers everywhere, leaning over his desk, his finger tracing the line he was reading. Right beside him stood that insistent little slutbag, her body pressed against his side, their faces mere inches apart.

“Didn’t take me as long as I expected. When I asked some of the other employees, a few said that Alexa mentioned working late tonight. Struck me as odd, you know, since the office is closed. I thought maybe it had been her plans from before the hack, but, on the off chance, I thought about where else she might have been 'working',” he lied. Not once had he been in contact with a single other member of staff, and hadn’t needed to. He knew exactly where to find them. The photo itself though, was real. “Lo and behold, she was ‘working late’ with your husband in your home.”

“No…” Olivia whispered, reaching out and touching the image of her husband on the picture. How could he, knowing how she felt about that girl, even let that hussy into their home?

“That’s only…” A vibration in his pants made Shawn pause. Slipping out his phone while Olivia’s imagination began to run wild at what the other photos might depict, he straightened up, making sure the MILF couldn’t see the screen. And with good cause. Her daughter had replied, sending him a picture in reply to his own of her mother, bent over, scrubbing the floor, ass in the air.

His breath caught in his throat as he took her in. The dark, seductive glower at the camera. The full pouty, smirking lips, red dashed with white. The entirety of her face was streaked and slashed with cum, a few globs clinging to her golden blonde hair. Others hung from her chin, and some, already fallen, marked her large, heavy breasts, just visible at the bottom of the selfie. Though she was clearly the focus on the picture, she sat at little off-centre. Behind her, asleep on the sofa, clearly visible was the real Gavin. Seeing how fiendishly deceptive and slutty she had been, Shawn licked his lips and imagined all the dark deeds they’d get up to together again.

As he was still admiring her photo, his phone vibrated again. This time it was a text message, to Shawn’s disappointment. It read:

‘I’m sorry. I’ve learned my lesson. I promise I’ll be good from now on. …Or not. Having everyone see how slutty and dirty I really am was kind of fun actually. I look forward to seeing how creative you can be with your next punishment. Until then though, this picture is for your eyes only. I hope you enjoy it almost as much as I had setting it up. Talk later. XO’

A grin spread across his face as read those words. It seemed the younger Walker had finally learned her place, beneath him, a **** to only him and her own pleasure. It didn’t surprise him. It was inevitable that he would break her, and reshape her to his will. He just had to remove enough of the obstacles, her hopes and her dreams, her friends and her family…though maybe not all of her family, he noted to himself, as he looked down, past his phone, at her mother, nearly drunk and definitely ****.

“Is everything okay?” she looked up at him with wet eyes. “Do you need to go?”

It was true that Shawn had told Victoria that if she sent her picture he wouldn’t send more of her mother. However, he never said that he would stay away completely, only that he wouldn’t spread pictures of her mother around town. He imagined breaking both of the Walker women, an obedient, mother-daughter slut duo, attending to his every need. Let that idiot of a husband have that whore Alexa. Easy girls didn’t interest him. It was the noble ones, the girls with lives and families, with values and ideals, that were the most satisfying to corrupt.

Shaking his head, he slipped his phone back into his pocket, his hand brushing against his hard cock. Hard from Victoria’s picture, he felt it twitch as he thought about all the ways he was going to make her mother debase herself for him. First though, he had to break her, just as he had broken Victoria. He leaned over Olivia again, reaching out to move the first picture off the stack, revealing the next, just below it.

The second photo showed her husband and Alexa again, clearly without any dispute who it could be, standing behind the desk, just as last time. However, they were no longer pointing or leaning over the papers, could no longer be argued to be working. He was smiling, a genuine smile that his wife had seen many times, while the image caught Alexa mid-giggle, her hand resting on his arm.

It was mundane, two people enjoying a common joke, and yet damning, for who it was, where it was, at that time of night. Not only had he not even tried to contact her, he was there, with that bitch, smiling and laughing. While she was going out of her mind with worry and fear, he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Are you want to go on?” he placed a hand on her shoulder, feigning concern. “It only gets worse from here.”

“No, I…I need to see it,” she said, wiping her eyes.

He took away the second picture, placing it with the first, unveiling the third picture. It too was rather humdrum, just Alexa, returning from the kitchen, wine glass in hand, passing one to Richard. The picture was snapped just as he reached out to take it, the pair of them still smiling, still in the office, though it seemed they were moving further and further away from doing any work at all.

Olivia seethed, seeing the evidence of her husband drinking with the homewrecker. Perhaps a little hypocritical, considering she’d been drinking with Gavin. The difference was that she had been drowning her sorrows, but these pictures depicted a man without remorse or regret. No doubt if confronted, he’d blame his infidelity on the wine, but one or two glasses wouldn’t be enough to dull the senses. If this went any further, Olivia was certain that he knew exactly what he was doing.

Acting hesitant, he slowly removed the third photo so that Olivia could view the forth. The couple were now embracing. To Olivia’s eyes, it looked like the natural progression of the story, man and woman, getting close, having a laugh, drinking together, falling into each other’s arms. Between her emotions and her blood **** ratio, she couldn’t see the subtle hints that perhaps this was not the hug between lovers as it appeared.

Alexa’s arms were wrapped right around his shoulders and arms, drawing him in and pulling him close, that much was true. Richard’s hands, however, held her rather limply at her waist. His head was bowed against her shoulder, his eyes closed with frown on his face, a frown that was half hidden by Alexa’s own face nuzzling his, smiling while she consoled him. All the tell-tale hints were there, but Olivia couldn’t see them, blinded by her own idea of what was going on and now unable to accept anything except that which confirmed it.

The photos depicted a narrative that these events had all happened in succession. The truth was that Shawn had sat hunkered down in the bushes outside their house for some time before any physical contact had made. He had to give the girl credit; she knew that she couldn’t just throw herself at the man. His values, his honor, would keep him from going to far, so she had to ease him into it. Though Shawn couldn’t hear the conversation outside, he could tell that Victoria’s father was upset, and Alexa leapt at the opportunity to make some physical contact between them, pressing her soft, warm curves into his body under the guise of comforting him.

Reaching out and taking hold of the fourth picture, he paused for dramatic effect, glancing at Olivia and hiding a smile, before revealing the fifth and final photo. There were no faces, only bodies. Naked, sweating, glistening bodies. Alexa sat on the desk, legs spread, her ankles crossed upon his lower back, just above the buttocks. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling his head down to hers, both turned inwards so all that could be seen was a mess of long, dark hair. Holding onto her ass with his hands, the still image was unable to depict the thrusting movement of his hips against the centre of her thighs but it was obvious. Olivia finally had the proof right in front of her eyes. They were fucking.

When viewed with the other photos, it created a natural consequence of their time together, two people getting close, until the husband succumbed to the passion of the moment. Of course, Shawn had to find the one husband who had an ounce of integrity, or else he wouldn’t have needed Grace to forge the photograph. He had to marvel at the job she’d done though, blending the real background of the office with staged pictures of pornographic models to create a believable illusion. Though, had Olivia been a little more sober, or just less paranoid, she might have noticed the body of her husband a little bit too in shape, or Alexa’s hair being slightly darker than she remembered.

But she wanted to believe. She already suspected it to be true, so when confronted with this ‘truth’ it wasn’t difficult to accept, and ignore or dismiss anything to the contrary. In a single day, she had seen the desolation of her daughter, her business and now her marriage; and, unbeknownst to her, it was all because of the man standing right beside her, curling his arm around her shoulder in feigned sympathy.