White Wives - Black Guys: Six Stories (Interracial Cuckold Collection) by Lars Aimes

Author:Lars Aimes [Aimes, Lars]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Locker Room Cuck

I pulled down the blinds in my office and turned off the lights. Just outside of this little sanctuary of mine, the phones rang non–stop and my co–workers hurried back and forth to and from the usual litany of meetings and phone calls.

Out there, I was just one among all the sharks who were angling for what everyone else wanted – a bigger slice of the pie, the promotion, the corner office with the juicy retirement package and annual bonus. But once I’m in here and the door is locked, I’m in my fortress of solitude. Nothing and no one can bother me.

I double–checked the door was locked and made sure the sign was up. “Out to Client Brunch”, it said. No one would question it. I had at least three real brunches every week with clients.

I pulled out my personal laptop and plugged it in. The soft glow of the monitor filled the room and I took the brightness down as far as it could go without actually turning it off. Once it booted up, I found the wi–fi connection I was looking for among all the company networks. It was labeled “JAVANUTS”, the name of the coffee shop next door. Their wi–fi connection was always unlocked so the dozens of underemployed hipsters nearby could surf the net and pretend to work while they sipped on their eight dollar lattes.

A click later, I was connected to their network and using a VPN.

I had to smile a little at what I had just done. It was the perfect crime. A little complicated, yes – but this way I had perfect anonymity. I would have to be a fucking idiot to do what I was about to do on a company computer using their network.

My heart jumped when the little ringtone beeped through the tinny speakers. “Shit,” I muttered. I turned down the volume and clicked on the “Answer” icon that blinked furiously on the little screen.

“Nate, you there?” she asked. A second later, the chat window popped up and my wife appeared through the magic of live streaming video. She wore a white tennis outfit that clung to the little delicious curves on her body. Behind her was the ladies’ locker room, empty at this time of morning.

I tapped the microphone on my headset and spoke quietly. There was no way that anyone would hear me over the bustle and chaos of a busy office building but I saw no reason to further risk my middle six–figure salary more than I already was.

“Yeah, I’m here,” I said. “Damn it, Amelia…I’m already hard just looking at you. I don’t know how much longer I can wait. When is he coming?”

Amelia smiled and coyly put a slender finger to her mouth. She aimed her beautiful eyes at the ceiling. “Hmmmm…well, I told Tyreese the faucet was leaking in here and he said he’s be here right away.”

I fought down my urge to touch my cock. “And you’re sure no one will interrupt you?” I asked.

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