“Mrs. Lawson, I believe I may have come up with a plan to save your house.” My heart almost leaped out of my throat as I heard the loan manager from our bank say those words over the phone. “If you and your husband could be here at 2:00 P.M. we can go over the um, details.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Richards,” I replied. “Thank you, thank you!” I was almost jumping up and down with excitement. I couldn’t believe the nightmare of the last several months actually had a chance of going away.

Our family was one of those hit hard by the recent economic crisis. In better times, my husband and I had bought into this whole adjustable rate loan bullshit and had bought our overpriced and now undervalued McMansion along with thousands of others. When our payments suddenly doubled, we were barely able to keep our heads above water and then when the bottom fell out of the economy and my job evaporated along with the entire machinery company I worked for and Donnie’s job cut him to half time, we were dead where we stood. We ate through our savings, the kids’ college funds and maxed out the credit cards and just a few days ago we had sat in Mr. Richard’s office as he told us that in all likelihood we were going to lose our house.

I have to tell you, I haven’t slept much lately. A million thoughts just kept coming at me — we have three growing kids, Tara age 17, Donnie Jr. age 13 and Molly age 9. Where were we going to live? Would we have to move away? Could we start over now? It’s been scary — hell, the last year or so has been scary. Donnie’s forty-three years old and I’m forty. We thought we had life all figured out and now to have the rug pulled out from under us…well, when I told Donnie that Mr. Richards had a solution for us, I actually broke down and cried.

We showed up at the bank twenty minutes early and sat outside Mr. Richards’ office, waiting nervously. Donnie had actually put on his Sunday going to church suit and I was wearing my best Sunday dress, a dark blue dress that came to just above my knees. I was wearing my best string of fake pearls and heels. Call us silly if you want to. We’re both just one generation removed from the hills of Kentucky and when you go see the “man” you wear your best, anxious to impress the person who holds your life in your hands.

Exactly at 2:00 P.M. Mr. Richards’ secretary walked out of his office and gestured to us. Over the past several months, we had come to know Lilly Fox quite well and I suspected my husband had a bit of a crush on her. She was in her mid twenties, blonde, green eyed with big firm breasts and a tight butt and except for the fact that she treated us with kindness and respect every time she saw or spoke to us, I would have hated her pretty little guts. I think she’d seen a lot of folks lately who were in desperate trouble and had tried to show her sympathy as best she could.

“Mr. Richards is waiting for you,” she said, pointing to his office door. We nodded thanks and hurried towards the door. As I passed her, our faces met and I swore she was smirking at me — a change from her usual kind demeanor. It was the smirk of someone who was in on a joke that was being played on you. A shiver ran down my spine, but I dismissed it from my mind as we stepped into the office of the person we hoped and prayed would be able to help us out.

“Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Lawson. Please come in, have seats,” Mr. Richards said, rising from behind the desk and pointing to two comfortable leather chairs. He glanced over us at his secretary. “Lilly, no interruptions, please,” he said in a confident ‘I’m the boss and I damn well know it’ voice.

“Of course, Mr. Richards,” I heard Lilly reply and again, I shivered as I seemed to hear something in her voice — some sort of amused, snickering tone.

I dismissed it as nerves and focused on the loan manager. Mr. Richards was in his mid fifties, balding and a bit of a middle age spread. Still, there was something about him, about his demeanor that spoke of importance and power. For a moment, no one spoke and he stared at us solemnly and we peered back like nervous children. You could feel the tension building in the room. I felt a strange urge to cry.

Finally, Mr. Richards smiled and said, “Well, I know you’re anxious to hear how we might save your home and help you get back on your feet financially,” he said. He picked up some papers and continued. “Your current payments are sixteen hundred dollars a month and you are almost four months behind. The bank has looked into beginning foreclosure proceedings and unless we can figure something out, I’d say you’ll be out on the street before school ends this coming spring.” He smiled brightly at us as if this was good news.

“But you told Sonya that you thought you had a solution for us, yes?” asked my husband, the fear evident in his face.

Mr. Richards nodded and replied, “Absolutely, we have a solution. Actually, your wife is the solution.” He paused and watched us for reaction.

Donnie and I looked at each other more than a bit confused. “Um, what do you mean, Mr. Richards?” I asked.

“Well, this is a little complicated, but hear me out. A group of bankers like myself and other civic minded folks in the community have gotten together and created a fund, a stimulus package if you will, to help out certain families save their homes if they meet the right criteria.

“The right criteria?” I echoed, feeling a little lost.

“Yes, Mrs. Lawson. I believe that you meet that criteria and can provide the right services that will qualify your family for our, ahem program.” He smiled smugly at us and I slowly shook my head, not understanding.

“Services? What services? I was a quality control engineer at the machine plant.”

Mr. Richards held his hands together, fingers pointing upwards to form a steeple. “To be blunt, Mrs. Lawson, you’re a fine figure of a woman and there are many willing folks who would enjoy being serviced by you.”

Suddenly I understood and I felt my face begin to flame. “You want me to have sex with you?” I gasped, not quite believing I had just asked such a question.

The banker grinned, an awful lascivious grin and replied, “Absolutely, Mrs. Lawson, with me and with a great many others.”

Donnie stood up, fists becoming balls and he growled, “You motherfucker, I’m going to kick your fat, lazy ass!”

Although I think all three of us knew that that Donnie could absolutely carry out such a threat, Mr. Richards sat and calmly stared Donnie down while he said in a soft and confident voice. “No, Mr. Lawson, you won’t. If you lay one hand on me, you’ll spend the next five years in jail and your wife and your kids will be on the street in exactly…” He glanced down at the paperwork before him and continued, “In exactly eight weeks.”

Donnie took a step forward and said in a strained voice, “You call my wife a whore and expect me to not beat the fucking shit out of you?”

“Absolutely correct. In fact you should get down on your knees and thank God your wife will have the chance to be a whore and bail your ass and your whole family out of the mess you’re in. Now, sit down, Mr. Lawson.”

“Donnie,” I said quietly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Sit down, darling. I love you and it will be all right. Sit down and let’s hear what he has to say.” Donnie swallowed hard and his fists clenched all the tighter and I thought for a second that he would jump over the desk and clock Richards, but he didn’t. A little shiver ran through his body and he let out a long sigh and sat down. Inside me, my emotions were all churned up. I wasn’t sure what made me more upset — Richards’ words or Donnie listening to me and sitting back down.

Tension was thick in the room as I turned back to Mr. Richards and said, “So, what exactly am I supposed to do?”

“First thing, I need to see you undress right now,” he said, looking at me with a look of great anticipation. I hesitated, unsure. Maybe this was all some sort of sick joke. “C’mon, now, Mrs. Lawson — you must get used to obeying commands and obeying them promptly.” His voice hardened. “Get naked, whore…NOW!” My head snapped back like I had been slapped. His voice — that sudden, harsh demanding tone sent a wave of emotion that I didn’t recognize coursing through my body.

Standing on shaky legs, I did as he asked. I reached behind and undid my zipper and then in one swift motion, pulled the dress over my head, leaving me standing in a standard black bra and panties. The cool air in his office raised gooseflesh on my arms and legs. My nipples hardened under my bra and I told myself it was the cold air, but that didn’t explain the sudden moistness between my legs when he had taken that commanding air with me.

“Very nice, Mrs. Lawson. Now lose the underwear — all of it.” I bit my lower lip and shrugged out of my bra, letting my heavy breasts fall free. I had taken good care of myself and despite having nursed three children and having large breasts, I was proud that they didn’t sag much. Mr. Richards studied my breasts and said, “Your tits are splendid, Mrs. Lawson, magnificent if I may say so. What are you, a 40 D-cup? And your nipples are incredible.”

At his words, I blushed as my nipples, round like quarters, swelled even more, standing up almost an inch. I shocked myself by saying in a subdued voice, “I’m a 38 D.” Then I shocked myself even more by murmuring, “Thank you.”

“Now, let’s have those panties off.” Mr. Richards said, pointing downward between my legs. I bent over and slipped my panties off, stepping out of them and then standing naked before my husband and for the first time since long before I was married, another man. I could feel Mr. Richards’ eyes crawling all over my pussy. I had long lips, topped by a carefully trimmed little landing strip. I choked off a moan as I felt a ripple of delicious heat pass outward from my pussy through the rest of my body. I didn’t look down, fearing that my labia were already spreading in arousal. I felt ashamed and excited and I didn’t understand anything at all.

Mr. Richards sighed and then looked over at my husband who was staring at me as well, veins visible on his neck and face, his face a deep crimson. “Ah, Donnie, you are a lucky man. Your wife is a beautiful woman!”

I felt my whole body blushing at his words, but I felt proud of myself too. I stand five foot, seven inches and weigh on a good day, one hundred-forty pounds. My breasts are still firm and maybe my best feature. I had worked hard to avoid the inevitable stomach pooch from having three children and was proud of my mostly flat stomach. My legs and ass cheeks were shapely from exercise and it wasn’t that long ago that I knew I could still turn men’s heads.

“May I get dressed, Mr. Richards?” I asked meekly trying to gain rein over the strange emotions running through me.

Mr. Richards pointed me back to my seat and said, “No, Mrs. Lawson, why should I be deprived of such a lovely view. Have a seat and let us discuss your, ahem, duties.” I complied, amusing him as I tried to figure out how to sit — demurely with a leg crossed over the other or with legs open, revealing my steadily dampening pussy.

Mr. Richards stared at me like I was some delicious desert he planned to devour. “Now, as to what will be required of you. Three days a week you will receive a call from Lilly instructing you on that day’s assignments. You will be assigned Monday, Wednesday and Saturday — so stay available on those days and make no other plans.” He looked at both of us. “Understand?” When we both nodded, he added, “In addition, on Tuesday and Thursday, you will come visit me here at 2:00 P.M. sharp. In exchange for your services, your mortgage will be brought up to date and paid each month.”

“Um…what services am I providing?” I asked, feeling my heart begin to pound as we actually talked about me being a whore.

“Why, whatever you’re told to do. Refusal of any request will abrogate the agreement and the bank will immediately begin foreclosure proceedings. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I replied softly, still amazed that I was agreeing to this and scarcely believing Donnie was standing by letting this happen.

“Well, then, if we understand each other, there’s no time for getting started like right now!” Mr. Richards stood up and walked around his desk and pointed to a leather sofa in the far corner. “Donnie, come join me on the couch.” He crossed the room and sat down and after my husband quietly joined him, he patted his crotch. I was amazed to see that there was a significant bulge in his gray slacks. “Now, Sonya, isn’t it? Sonya, I want you to crawl over here and suck my cock!”

“Crawl, Mr. Richards?”

“Yes, Sonya, crawl over here like the whore slut you are and show me what a good cocksucker you are.”

I could see Donnie bristling next to him, but was shocked to hear him say, “Shouldn’t I leave the room?”

Mr. Richards laughed and said, “Oh no, certainly not! I want you here, Donnie. I want you to see your wife be the whore she already knows she is.” Donnie stunned me by just frowning and nodding meekly. Mr. Richards crooked a finger at me and said, “C’mon you little bitch. I want my cock sucked right now.”

Part of me seemed to stand back amazed as I slipped from my chair to the deep carpet of his office. Breasts hanging and swaying, I began to crawl over to him on my hands and knees, trying to deny the heat and the hot and slippery sensations as my labia rubbed together as I moved. I was turned on — I just couldn’t believe it. I crawled between Mr. Richards’ legs and slipped a hand over the fabric covered bulge in his pants. I undid the button on his slacks and pulled down the zipper and reached in with shaky hands to fish out his cock. It felt wet and sticky and I didn’t understand that, but I was more amazed at its size. Donnie, god love him, is just a bit shy of being six inches long when he’s erect and not all that thick. Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband’s cock, but a thrill went through me as I estimated Mr. Richards at over eight inches and significantly thicker than my husband.

“Mmmmm, I think you like what you’ve found,” said Mr. Richards. “Is it bigger than Donnie’s dick?” As I slowly stroked it, I nodded in confirmation. As Mr. Richards chuckled, I shot a glance at Donnie who looked mortified. Mr. Richards reached out and ran a hand through my thick mahogany hair. “Now, Sonya, would you like to suck my cock?”

I looked up at him and whispered, “Yes.” And it was the truth. I did want to suck him and he smiled at me and I took him in my mouth. Now to be honest, I don’t suck Donnie all that much. He prefers straight up sex, mostly with him on top. There was a time when we were much more sexually active, but the last few years, it had become at best a once a week event and in recent months, Donnie’s sex drive had simply disappeared. Now I was consumed with desire to please this man, to pleasure this big penis and so I did.

As I took him into my mouth, I realized I was tasting more than cock — that the wetness and stickiness on the skin had its own taste and I almost choked as I realized that I was tasting sperm and pussy. I had a sudden epiphany, envisioning Mr. Richards fucking his secretary, Lilly maybe moments before we walked in. I didn’t matter. Like a woman starving, I ran my tongue up and down his shaft and licked his cock clean before focusing on sucking him, rolling my tongue around his large cock head. I kept my brown eyes focused on his face, measuring what I was doing from his expression and trying to please him. Once in a while, I would spare a glance over to my husband who stared at me with a confused look — as if he didn’t recognize me.

I felt my cunt grow wet and felt my own juices trickling down my thighs. I felt so confused and wondered if somehow, Mr. Richards had perceived my true nature. Was I a slut? Was I a shameless whore? Thirty minutes ago, I was a jobless wife and mother, now I was on my knees sucking a strange cock and I couldn’t seemed to muster much more than a glimmer of shame. I was dealing with the fact that I was enjoying this, that I was happy sucking this man’s big cock!

I swirled my tongue and tried to recall every little trick that had made Donnie happy over the years and I was amazed to feel my heart thrill to every moan I drew from Mr. Richard’s lips. I quivered as he entangled his fingers in my heavy mane of brown hair and guided my motion as he murmured, “Yes, that’s it, bitch! Suck my cock, you little whore. You love it, don’t you, you cockloving slut!”

And then without warning, I felt him swell and then my mouth was flooded with his spunk — hot, thick, salty semen. I gulped it down, eager to please him and to not waste a drop. I sucked and sucked until there was nothing left to suck from him and yet, I still sucked him and tongued his still throbbing dick. Finally, it was too intense and he pushed my head back, allowing him to slip from my lips.

“Oh my, yes! You definitely live up to expectations, Sonya!” crowed Mr. Richards. He nudged my husband who sat there in disbelief. “Again, Donnie, I tell you, you are a lucky man!” As he spoke, he took his still semi-erect cock in his hand and gently slapped it against my face, leaving little splatters of spit and cum on my face. “You enjoyed it too, didn’t you, Sonya?”

I looked up at him and nodded and then to reinforce my feelings, I leaned forward, brushing my cheeks and lips against the head of his cock, almost worshipping his meat stick, savoring the feel of his velvety shaft against my skin. Donnie’s eyes bulged as he watched me literally rub Mr. Richard’s cock against my face.

“I believe you will go far, Sonya,” Mr. Richards said, standing up. “There is a whore inside of you just dying to get out!” He allowed me to kiss the tip of his cock before tucking it back inside his trousers. Then, so much like a man, he became all business and instructed me to get dressed. When I was dressed and composed, he told me, “Tomorrow is Wednesday, so be at home and wait for Lilly’s phone call. Don’t disappoint me and I look forward to seeing you on Thursday.”

He walked us to his office door and good heartedly patted Donnie on the back. “Cheer up, Mr. Lawson. Your wife is going to make everything all right. Go home and get a good night’s sleep knowing your home — your life is safe!”

We walked out, Lilly Fox watching us from her desk, the smirk still on her face. I felt my face blush anew, seeing in her eyes the knowledge of what I had done and what I had agreed to become. Her tongue flitted out and over her lips and she gave me a little wink and I knew in my heart at that moment that I had been right. I had just licked her cunt cream off Mr. Richard’s cock. What’s more, just being sure of that nasty fact made my pussy even wetter than it already was.