“Annabelle,” Coralee Montgomery called out as she enter her 8,000 square foot ranch in Midland, Texas. Stopping just inside the entry way, her crystal green eyes sought out the female who should have been standing there waiting for her the moment she walked in the door. She swore it was so hard to find good, reliable help now a days.
Removing the large brim, white hat from her head and placing it on the mahogany table that sat in the middle of the spacious foyer, Coralee then ran her fingers through her dark red hair in frustration.
“Annabelle!”
While she believed that a good Southern woman should never raise her voice, Coralee decided there was a time and place where it would be considered acceptable. This would be one of those times. Before the last syllable could even leave her perfectly red glossed lips, Annabelle came scurrying down the long hall, her pale blue eyes wide with terror and her face pale.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Montgomery. I didn’t expect you home for at least another hour. Usually when you go shopping you aren’t home until four.”
“Well I am so sorry to put a damper on your schedule. Now go fetch my bags from the car and bring them to my room.” Dismissing the maid with a wave of her hand, she started towards the solarium, but paused to glance back over her shoulder. “Have you happen to see Mr. Montgomery today?”
Somehow her question managed to have her maid growing even paler, causing Coralee’s eyebrows to raise in question. When she received no response, she turned fully towards Annabelle, her green eyes darkening as a slow simmering anger started to ignite inside her.
“I said, have you seen my husband today?”
On an audible swallow, Annabelle nodded her head. “Yes ma’am. Last time I saw him he was heading to the kitchen. That would have been about thirty minutes ago.”
“Oh was he now?” It seemed that her maid wasn’t the only one that had expected her to return at a later hour. Coralee wasn’t a stupid woman by a long shot, and she was fully aware what her husband, Jefferson, had been up to when she wasn’t at home. It was one of the reasons she decided to cut her shopping trip short. It was time her no good, cheating husband was caught. Dismissing Annabelle for the second time, she changed directions and headed straight towards the kitchen.
It was the one room in the house she never felt the need to spend anytime in. She didn’t cook, and she certainly didn’t clean, she hired people to do that. She tended to avoid even entering the kitchen altogether, but this time she was making an exception. The moment she stepped foot in there today, she found exactly what she expected to find. It was empty.
A pan had been left on the stove, and food was laid out on the counter as if whomever planned to prepare that night’s meal had vanished into thin air. Coralee knew that the cook hadn’t gone far though. As she stood in the center of the room, quiet as a mouse, she heard the sound she was looking for and it was coming from behind the closed door of the pantry.
**********
Jefferson Montgomery currently had his hands full. The lush curves, and soft, supple skin of Tamara’s breast filled his palms as he played. The soft moans she was making was enough to have his cock hardening to the point of madness. With her pressed against the far wall of the pantry, her skirt hiked up to her hips, shirt torn open and her wild ebony hair unbound, framing her exotic features, she looked like every man’s fantasy come true. All he was thinking, though, was how he wanted to fuck her until she was screaming. His hand left her breast and trailed down the front of her body until he reached the smooth, bare skin at the juncture of her thighs. He cupped her sex, his middle finger pressing against her seem to find her wet and wanting.
“Please, Jefferson,” she moaned in a desperate tone. “We don’t have a lot of time and I need you.”
“I know you do, sweets. You’re already soaking wet.” Another finger joined in on the play, causing Tamara’s hips to buck. She was right though, they didn’t have much time. His wife would be home soon and the last thing he needed was for her to walk in on him fucking the cook. While he had his suspicions she knew exactly what he had been doing for the last month, Coralee had yet to speak a word of it. The suspicion was there in her eyes though. The subtle ways she would study him when she crawled into their bed at night. What he could never allow, was for her to find out. If she ever left him, he would end up penniless. It was her who had the money. Her who owned the ranch and the stables. He had no doubt that she would make him pay for straying. But what was a man to do? His own wife had become cold and distance and hadn’t allowed him to touch her in weeks. Jefferson needed to find another source for his pent up frustrations. It just so happened he had found it between the thighs of their cook. Really, who could possibly blame him?
Sliding his fingers deep inside Tamara’s pussy, he pressed his thumb against her clit and started rub. “Tell me want you want, sweets.”
With her plush pink lips parted, Tamara’s half-closed chocolate brown eyes met his and she moaned her answer. “I need you to take me. God, please, Jefferson. I need you.”
His hand quickly disappeared from her heat and grabbed hold of her hips, lifting her until her legs her wrapped tightly around his waist. With one palm pressed against the wall behind her head and the other keeping a tight grip on her, he plunged his cock deep inside with one hard thrust. The cry that sounded from her lips echoed around the small room and had him fucking her hard. There was nothing gentle or loving about the way he took her. This wasn’t about feeling. Wasn’t about trying to woo and charm the female. No, all this was about was rough, hard, punishing sex. The kind that built up inside you until you exploded and it left you sated. That’s all Jefferson wanted.
Dropping his lips to her neck, he gently bit at her sensitive skin as he slammed into her. He knew she would end up with bruises by the way her body was banging back against the wall, but he couldn’t seem to find it in him to care. All she was to him was a body he could release into, and he was so fucking close to that release. All it would take was a couple more thrusts. That was, if she hadn’t gone completely stiff in his arms and stopped thrusting those sinful hips back against him.
Releasing his mouth from her neck, he lifted his head to find out just what had caused her to stop. What he had found was something that had his stomach knotting in dread. Tamara’s eyes were wide and her breath was coming out harsh and fast, but Jefferson knew it had nothing to do with the way he had been driving into her. No, what he saw clearly on her face was pure horror.
Following to where her eyes were staring helplessly, Jefferson looked over his shoulder and his whole world stopped. The door to the pantry was wide open and standing just outside it was his wife. Her long, curly red hair framed a face that looked like it could be made from stone. Vibrant green eyes narrowed with so much animosity and disgust he was surprised that fire wasn’t igniting from them. With her arms crossed just underneath her full breasts, causing them to threaten to spill over the white, silk sleeveless top she wore, he felt his cock start to twitch at the sight, causing Tamara to let out a surprised gasp. Yeah, he probably shouldn’t be getting so turned on by the way Coralee was standing there, most likely planning his death, but he couldn’t help it. She had a body made for sin, and the way her short, navy blue shirt was hugging her hips and showing off those mile long legs, that only looked longer in her fuck me pumps, had every inch of him yearning to toss Tamara aside and throw his wife down on the nearest table and take her like an animal. Not that she would ever let, especially now.
Quickly withdrawing himself from the warm, heat of Tamara’s body, not even noticing that when he stepped back she nearly fell onto the floor, he tucked his still hard as stone cock back into his pants then held up his hands.
“Buttercup, it’s not what you think. You know I love you. It’s just a man has needs…” He wasn’t able to get another word out before Coraless growled at him, cutting him off.
“Needs? You have fucking needs?” Her hand shot out, pointing directly at the cook. “Is that what you need? Well you’re going to have a hard time fulfilling those needs now since the whore is fired.” Turning her attention on Tamara, causing the poor girl to grab her torn shirt and try to cover herself the best she could. “Get out of my house and if I ever see you’re face again… Honey, let’s just say it won’t just be this ranch you’ll be banished from. Do I make myself clear?”
Without responding, Tamara pushed off the wall and ran from the room, tears streaking down her face. Jefferson should probably feel sorry for her, it wasn’t completely her fault, but he was too busy watching his wife and the rage that seemed to be turning him on more than the maid had ever been able to.
Slowly he approached, hoping his face showed the correct amount of regret and self-hatred.
“Forgive me, buttercup. I was wrong, I know it. You know you’re the only woman I will ever love.” When he reached her, he lifted his hand and gently brushed it against her check. Then she smiled up at him, a slow, devastating smile that had his heart kicking into high gear.
“Oh my slow, stupid, can’t seem to keep it in his pants, husband.” Her voice was sugary sweet and those eyes that had moments ago held so much hatred had softened. “You’re not going to get off that easy.” Her lips curved up in a devious little smile. “In fact, it will be quite a while before you get off again. There is a saying in my family. Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you. Well, darling, I’m about to do unto you exactly what you’ve been doing to me.”
Jefferson’s face pinched up tight, not liking where she was heading with this conversation at all. “Exactly what are you trying to say, Coralee?”
“It’s simple really. By my calculations, you and the maid have fucked behind my back on eight separate occasions over the last month. That means for the next eight days and nights I’ll have my own little affair. You will not say a thing about it. You will not try to stop me, and you certainly won’t take issue with it. Once the eighth day is over I will decide whether or not you are still worth my time and see if you have learned your lesson.”
His stomach dropped and an overwhelming surge of jealousy started to eat at him. Another man touch his wife? He would kill whoever it was that even thought to do that. He was about to tell her just that when he realized that if he didn’t allow her to do this, there was no doubt that she would leave him. He had no choice. Especially since he was the one that had put himself in his current position in the first place.
Standing just beyond the door of the pantry, the smell of sex still heavy in the air, he watched as his wife turned her back on him and started to walk away. Her shoulders back, hips swinging in a seductive manner. The sight she made was going to leave him hard and wanting for over a week, and that was if she decided to take him back. What he needed at that moment was a drink. A really stiff one.
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