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By she cries (sh.cries@gmail.com)


I'd been married just over a year when I found Paul and Mandy fucking in the break room. I'd heard a lot of stories about Paul, the way he'd basically turned the place upside down when he used to work here. The women throwing themselves at him, and all the straight men couldn't stand him. The fags loved him and hated him, but then there were a few bitches in the company that I'd have fucked just because they were so damn hot.

If I wasn't married, that was. I'm pretty handsome to boot, but I don't have the player instinct. When a guy like Paul comes along, you get reminded that some people got looks, and some people got it. He'd get laid every weekend if he'd been strictly average looking, and Paul looked better than that.

Milton associates rented out a/v equipment to hotels, parties, whoever. We had a staff of a/v techs (straight, white, male, nerds in their thirties) and MC's: Gay men in their 40s who couldn't land a chorus line anymore, and women in their 20's who were too inexperienced to land a commercial or extra role, or not quite hot enough to be successful without spending their lives working very, very hard.

Amanda was one of these. A little too gangly, a little too serious, teeth not quite straight, and always an honest little grin-the girl next door, but a couple tics shy of masturbation material. Most of the girls were like that. Jessie was a little fat in the booty department; Chris had the most amazing ass in the universe but next to nothing up top; that sort of thing.

In my reality, these were real women, and I thought they were all gorgeous in their own ways. Each of them had found their ways into my lonely thoughts when Deb had gone away on one of her weekend trips without sexing me up first (which was every weekend nowadays). Something about handing out assignments in the dressing room to a bunch of half dressed ladies and a wife that's just never in the mood since she started her new job, I guess.

I was the assistant manager, and since the manager was on vacation three weeks out of the month, I was pretty much in charge, but had no real power. Whenever I found myself in a situation where I needed to throw my weight around you could almost taste the sneers on the guys who had been working in the company for a few years. They knew they could get away with murder until the boss came back so long as they showed up on time and did their job.

Most of the guys were okay. A bunch of queens who were content to show up, look gorgeous, smile at the ladies, and get a check. Paul was the only real anomaly. A butch straight man in his twenties with a grin to die for, a five o'clock shadow that never grew or faded, and a body... Well, he was stocky and butch, but it was really his smile that got people. No matter how much of a whiney asshole he might be if his suit wasn't pressed the night before, or if someone got him spring water instead of mineral water, everyone loved him in spite of how much they hated him.

Now when I found Paul and Amanda, I'd basically spent the better part of two years fantasizing about this girl. Since we were both engaged to other people when we met (now married) I'd never so much as laid a hand on her, in spite of the fact that she hugged and cuddled with absolutely everyone else at work (in the most platonic way-she was everyone's little sister).

Mandy was the model of loyalty. A stable girl who was planning a family and married a nice, geeky guy who taught History in junior high. She always showed up to work on time, did her job, and didn't whine. She didn't dress trashy even in Summer when in was 90 degrees in the office. She was the ultimate daddy's little girl, and only my fantasies could make her trashy.

Mandy was flirty, but in a little sister sort of way. She seemed to put a great deal of trust in me, and always backed me up when things were tense in the office or on the job site.

More than that, though, I was always there for her. I was always on hand to help her out of a jam. I'd drop anything, no matter how trivial, if I thought she was in a situation, such as the time a client tried to pay her to pose nude for him.

I was convinced that our camaraderie was a sign of sexual compatibility. That any cuddles would lead me down the path to infidelity with my wife. I'd done that with a girlfriend once, got caught, and didn't stop hearing about it for years. It ruined my sex life, and I spent the next six months masturbating in the bathroom about the rather furtive, lousy sex I'd had with the one night stand I'd had with a girl I never saw again without a different guy on her arm. When I got the nerve to break up, finally, I found Deb almost immediately, and the sex was phenomenal (until recently). Nothing was going to ruin that for me. Nothing.

So here was my little sister fantasy, completely naked, laying across the break table, sweaty, gasping, and flushed beat red (Mandy was about as white as a white girl can get without bleach). Her legs were bent, but held apart, and I could see Paul's shaft-an impressive tool from what I could see-grinding back and forth while Mandy struggled to keep it from going any deeper while refusing to let it slip out. Her right had was firmly pressed against her clitoris, her left grasping the table lest she slip away from her lover. I could see her wedding ring gleaming as I heard her gasp, "Paul, fuck! Paul. Paul..."

Mandy's tits were small but nice, kind of flabby-just like I'd imagined them. Her nipples a little puffy and kind of pinched-just like I'd imagined them. Her legs were skinny, and her ass was a tiny little thing, smashed flat against the table because it wasn't too toned-just like I'd imagined it. Little pills of cellulite betrayed her lack of exercise.

She had a little pimple on one thigh, and hair growing out of a little mole on her shoulder, but I never thought she'd look like an airbrushed slut when I got her naked. The only thing I hadn't imagined was her ash blonde Brazilian (I guess I'd forgotten that even nice girls do shave their pubes), or Paul's fat cock distending my little Mandy's pussy. I certainly hadn't envisioned the violence of her orgasm. I'd never seen a girl do that. Not at the end of my dick.

Paul was in his throes too. His face was half glazed, half leering down over his latest conquest. He glanced up at me, like he might glance at a hole in the wall, then went back to finish off the hole on the table with legs. Paul has conquered scores of women. I'd met a few of them. Every non-married girl at the office had gone out with him, and now he was working on the married ones. My married girl. I couldn't believe that Mandy would give up her fidelity for a quickie with the company slut. Not that I could deny that she would not regret this. What wouldn't I have given up for the pleasure she was having.

For Paul, on the other hand, she was just another lay. Not much different than masturbation is for me from one day to the next. A different fantasy, a hunger I have to feed, but no great shakes. The travesty that Mandy's innocence was so rudely done away with filled my guts with lead. My loathing of Paul was pretty high on any given day of the week that I might stumble into one of the parties he's MC'd and had to pick up his crumpled suit off the changing room floor (employees are required to hang their own laundry), clean up his dinner, and deal with the bitter, angry husbands he'd left in his wake. I was overcome with an urge to grab the bastard and dash his head against the soda machines. This was my office, my break room, my employee, my fantasy girl next door. You didn't get to just blow your wad all over it and get away with it.

The only problem was that every minute I delayed doing this was a minute I could devour Mandy's naked body as it lay in a rapture I hadn't even been able to imagine moments before. Every time I had seen her in the dressing room, a glimpse of panty, a bra strap off the shoulder, her cute little pooch of a belly sticking out ever so slightly at the top of her grannie white undies, I'd take that home and masturbate with it.

I didn't need porn, I had glimpses of Mandy. Here I had food for a year. A decade. Every furtive glance I'd ever stolen, she was giving up to Paul in spades, for nothing. A guy she'd known a few weeks she had her legs spread for. I, her loyal partner, the guy who'd always had her back she'd never even given a nipple to. But Paul, the guy who she had made sly jokes to me about got to see her tits. The guy she called creepy got to fondle her ass and fill up her body.

I was so hard I'd have tripped over it if it wasn't strapped down by my boxers.

"Come on in, man, shut the door." Paul muttered, grinning at me even as he picked up his pace. Mandy's orgasm faded and she grew aware of me, even as Paul came close to his and he started pumping her harder. I could feel the shame rising off Mandy's naked body, her eyes boring into me as I lapped up her nudity, her scent, the sound of her frantic gasps as Paul filled her up, pounding, pounding. I couldn't look her in the eye, fixated on the pulsing site of the action, but I could sense her despair, a sense which Paul ignored as he grunted and bucked the sleight girl towards his orgasm. "Dude, the door."

"Paul, stop." I declared, weakly, miserably.

"You kiddin', man?" Paul grunted, his eyes half shut, bucking her ass off the table with each thrust. His cock was really big. I heard Mandy gasp. She arched her back and started to quiver. The slut was cumming again.

"Paul," I said, this time with a little authority.

Paul didn't stop, but he slowed down a bit. Mandy was ignoring me again, her eyes shut.

This was her speed, I gathered. Paul looked at me. He face hard, even with the grin, "Shut up and shut the door."

"Paul." This time it was Mandy, and Paul took that to be encouragement. She looked at me, despair welling up in her eyes again. Then she glazed over as Paul started pumping, firm, precise strokes. Her body seized up. She came again in spite of the open door.

Paul held still, her body perching just off the head of his shaft, "Shit man, that's her third one, she's got plenty left." My eyes were riveted to the way she piloted her tiny little sex around the head of his cock. Tiny little circles. "Tell me you aren't digging it!" Paul insisted.

Mandy came, and immediately after the fear came back into her eyes. She was clearly basking in a ridiculous afterglow, but as she settled back onto the formica table, her sweaty body sticking to the cold, hard surface as Paul started pumping into her, even harder this time, but she looked like she was about to cry, because I was there, and I was taking her glow away.

I shut the door, "Just finish." It was a sad little order. He was going to do that no matter what I said. Mandy looked away. She was still grunting. Maybe even enjoying it a little, but all she was right now was a fuck toy for Paul's insatiable lust. She knew it, and she knew she liked it. What I was doing was reminding her to be ashamed. I wanted to throw up. Worse, I wanted to masturbate. I wanted to jerk off and cum, even as Paul exploded inside her body with a few sharp, jerky thrusts. I wanted to get off on Mandy's humiliation.

Paul stood still for a few moments, drooling onto Mandy's little pooch. Then suddenly he looked at me and jerked his head at her, "Come on, finish her off."

My body felt as if electricity had jolted through it. Automatically I stiffened up and started to move. It was a supreme force of will that held me after one step. Every instinct in my manhood told me to do it, but Mandy's shame: "no." she whimpered.

"It's okay, baby," Paul said, running his large hands down her legs and across her slender, bony sides, "He's not gonna tell anyone, let's have a little fun."

Paul had no comprehension of the relationship Mandy and I had. We'd spent the past two years giggling at other people for their affairs and screwed up relationships. We'd spent no little time raising our eyebrows at each other over each new conquest Paul chalked up. To Paul she was just another little slut. To me, she was the girl who'd given up her loyalty to her husband, her modesty, her values. Letting me have her would cost her her dignity. And mine.

So naturally I hesitated.

"Come on man, don't be a pussy." Paul challenged me.

I let myself slip into the morally superior role for a minute, "Come on Paul, let's leave her alone."

"Fuck you." He snarled, and I chafed, my lead belly returning at the flagrant hostility, "I can see your pecker's hard, don't act like you don't want it."

My pecker was indeed bursting out of my cheap slacks. I'm not exactly unendowed myself. But Mandy could see this too, and that made me feel really pathetic.

"Look, Paul, I'm not gonna tell anyone."

Paul gave me his most patronizing look, "I know you're not going to tell anyone," he was still fucking my subordinate on the table even as we argued, "No one cares, you'll just look like a pussy if you do." He was right about that, but I felt the flush of blood come rising up over my collar.

Paul went on, "I'm just saying," he looked at Mandy who was obviously trying hard not to enjoy the gentle post orgasm fucking she was getting, "and Mandy agrees-that you could use a little ass." Mandy gulped. Hard. "We just want to be on the same page, you know, none of this boss, employee shit. Isn't that right, baby?"

Mandy nodded.

"I mean," Paul pulled out of Mandy but held her legs apart, clearly appreciating his work, "You're kind of a nerd, you know. You're a good looking guy, but you gotta cut loose you know, have a little fun."

My mind was exploding with possibilities. Do I do it? Do I spend the rest of my life lying to my wife? Can Mandy and I ever be friends again even if I don't? It was so painfully obvious that she was just agreeing with Paul so he could manipulate me into a position that he could be in control of me, but my brain kept pushing that reality out of my head. My cock was raging. I had wanted this woman for such a long time, and now an unbearably revolting occasion had provoked the most profound lust.

"It's okay," Mandy whispered. She was looking at me, with an almost understanding grin. Maybe recognizing the same lust that had led her into Paul's arms. Paul stood aside, his engorged penis looking vulgar, sticking out of his pants, dripping cum.

Mandy was sitting up on the table, but her legs were still open. She seemed so incredibly beautiful to me right then. Such a delicate, frail creature, yet flush, hot, and her tiny little pussy red and engorged, her inner lips tangled around her opening, dribbling little pearls of Paul's sperm.

In a year of marriage I still hadn't gotten to cum in my own wife. The thought of getting to cum in Mandy made me almost burst.

"Why don't you get undressed?" Mandy said, positively encouraging me now. It startled me how quickly she had gone from being ashamed and distraught by me to a woman encouraging, and empowering me to try something I had been too scared to try since I had met her.

"Yeah, come on, man, let's see what you've got." I'd almost forgotten Paul was there.

He wasn't naked. He'd just had Mandy there on the table, but she hadn't made him get undressed.

"No, I think, uh..." I had no idea how to refuse the suggestion. Mandy started to frown, and I tried glancing at Paul, but he just said, "Yeah, let's get comfortable." Of course, as he said this he was tucking his penis back in his pants and zipping up.

The next five minutes may have been the most awkward of my life. Paul put his arms around Mandy and they just sort of half cuddled, half stared as I disrobed. I put a lot of pride in my appearance, and I am very aware that my neat cut slacks and tailored shirts make me look like I cut a good figure, but as I pulled off the shirt I was acutely aware of how my belly was just pushing a little past my waist band. The ugly fluorescent lighting made the little pimples on my thighs seem gross and purple. I knew I had them on my butt too and I was afraid to turn around. Paul held Mandy close, and she tried to distract him with little kisses. He'd rub her nose, and cradle her little breasts. They'd whisper to each other, and giggle, all the while, half watching me, but Mandy particularly was trying to get Paul excited again.

I forgot to take my shoes off and Mandy chuckled as I tripped over my pants to get them off. She was half curled up on the table in Paul's arms, almost completely unselfconscious of her nudity now, giggling at me in my cheap boxers, my pasty pale skin, as I tried to suck in my gut, for all the good it did. Dressed I was hardly half the build that Paul was. Naked I was a withered pudgy stalk. I'd thought myself Mandy's equal in the body department, but now she had had Paul.

"All right, man, let's see the goods." Paul said grinning, his hands all over Mandy, possessing her utterly even as he offered her to me.

I think I stammered something about being cold. It was a bit chilly, but it was really the giggles and laughter that forced me to reveal my manhood, shriveled up. A sad, pathetic thing, and the look on Mandy's face as she clutched her lover close to her said it all. It was like she'd seen a squirrel in a park, or a cute little bunny. A big smile spread across her face, "Oh it's adorable."

If it was possible it would have inverted right there.

A chill crept across my body and my balls were clinging tight. My shaft was just a couple inches long. The head seemed impossibly small. I could feel the skin burning under my eyes just as acutely as the skin crawled across my arms and thighs as the pair of them giggled.

Not three feet away from me, Mandy could whisper in Paul's ear and I couldn't hear it, just his replies, "Oh, come on... You said you would... It's normal, he's just nervous..." Every few seconds they'd kiss. A warm, intimate, loving kiss, like long familiar partners, and I was there, naked, alone, miserable, clinging to the hope that I'd know the ecstasy between Mandy's legs that Paul had been unable to appreciate.

Finally, after an eternity, Mandy said, "OK." And she turned and suddenly she was open to me. She sat up on the edge of the table, Paul right behind her (watching me, for some reason). Her legs slightly parted, she held her arms up to me. I came as bidden, and felt electricity shooting through my fingertips as I touched her thighs, ever so gently. My hands trembled as I felt the searing heat of her skin passing energy into mine. My hips touched her knees, an I felt our skin sliding together. Mandy had this polite, reserved expression. She had her head cocked, as if she were peering under her brow at me. Was she being coy, or did she really suspect me of something. Her lips crafted a smile, then it would fade as I let my hands wander up to her waist. Then another smile. Big, cheesy. I felt my hand sliding up, over her tummy. I leaned in for a kiss as I felt those lovely soft nipples fold under my touch...

But as our lips touched she pursed hers up tight and I felt her turn away. Opening my eyes I saw her faking a big grin. I looked down and she was prying my hand off her left boob which I was kneading like a ball of dough. My left hand was clumsily trying to grope at her sex, but facing her I was just rubbing her with the hard knuckle of my thumb.

I jerked my hand away, but smacked her knee in the process, "Shit." I stammered, "I'm sorry."

But Mandy was great, "It's okay." Her hands came up and cradled my head, "Let's just take it slow." I nodded, almost too scared to look her in the eye, but not willing to look away for the brooding presence of Paul behind her. I set my hands ever so gently on her hips and leaned in for another kiss. A tender, romantic kiss. But Mandy leaned back again. In my embarrassment I kissed her ear, then found myself slobbering on her neck and I willed my hands not to grab her butt. I was pushing my cock against her wet, slippery sex, and for the first time since I'd undressed I felt the cauldrons of passion starting to bubble.

But Mandy pushed my head up, gently, tenderly, like I was a baby. Without a gesture I knew she wanted me to look down, even as she pushed me away. My cock didn't even resemble excitement, and her sex was no longer puffy and engorged, but a red raw thin slit with a couple tiny lips sticking out and a big stringy mess of cum connected us, I was horrified, but Mandy, deep down, really did care about my feelings, "Look, I'm really sore from Paul." Of course, the medicine is often as bad as the malady. "Maybe we shouldn't..."

"No." Paul interjected himself again, "Look, let's make this work," he was talking to me, "There's no reason to come on so strong, maybe a little foreplay." Apparently in Paul's world, kissing wasn't foreplay. I was flummoxed. If that wasn't where to begin, I realized, that I had no idea what to do.

"Well, what did you..." I stammered, "I mean, what would you suggest."

But Paul was getting snuggly with Mandy again. "Hey, it's my turn!" I wanted to shout.

But I didn't.

"Mandy's never been with two men before." Paul said, "Have you?" Mandy shook her head. "It's hard to be the center of attention." I nodded. It seemed reasonable since that's how I felt too. "Look, let's try something here." Paul rolled up, and disengaged himself from Mandy. He looked at me, "Let's let Mandy watch us for a while."

I hadn't thought that Paul was bi. In fact, I had a nasty suspicion that he was doing this to get rid of me. "Paul, I'm not gay."

"I'm not either, but just try to have an open mind."

"I don't need to. I work with gay men every day, you think I haven't thought about it?"

Mandy interrupted, "Look this isn't necessary."

"No, it is." Paul blurted out. He pointed a finger at me, "If you think you can just walk in here and stick your dick in Mandy after I did all the work to get her on her back, you can just walk the fuck back out."

I refrained from pointing out that I'd been invited to do just that. I just wasn't feeling very cocky at the moment.

"Look, Paul," I said, "I just don't think..." fortunately Paul interrupted me, because I had no idea what I didn't think.

"I'm trying to include you in my seduction here." Paul said, "If you want a hooker, you pay for it. Do you think Mandy's a hooker?"

"no." I said.

"Because that's what you're treating her like."

I looked at her. All the shame and pain from before was still bubbling below the surface, "No!" I barked. "I just don't..."

"Did you like seeing me and Mandy fucking on the table?"

I felt the blood running out of my skin, "Yeah." I said softly.

"Do you want to fuck Mandy."

I couldn't keep looking at him. I felt like I was shrinking to an inch tall, "Yeah." I said to a gum stain on the floor.

"Mandy, would you like to see us get it on?"

"Yeah." Mandy said. I looked up and she was smiling again. She had this beam in her eye as she adored Paul. And even as her glance flitted over me, she grinned, seeming to positively bask in the idea.

Then I realized they were both looking at me, "Yeah, all right." I stammered. I'd considered this for half my life. I figured that since I'd never met a guy who I'd wanted to kiss that it wasn't my way, though a lot of guys had asked. The thought of doing Paul, well, I had Mandy right there, I suppose. I'd think about her. Hell, I didn't have the faintest idea how it would go down, but for some reason I couldn't bear to let Mandy think that I thought of her as just a hole in the wall.

"I don't know if I can, you know." I said as Paul sat down next to Mandy.

"That's okay, you're nervous." Paul said. Mandy nodded, knowingly. The big man grinned, almost sheepishly, "I'm nervous too."

I nodded, dumbly. "So what do we do?"

Paul looked at Mandy, "So you want to see the boss-man fuck me in the ass?"

Mandy wrinkled up her nose shook her head and laughed, "Ewwwwww, no!" I breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that that disgust worked both ways.

"Well, then." Paul unzipped himself then, and Mandy, without being prompted put her hand in the opening, "Come here." Paul said to me.

Hoping for some of Mandy's free hand I complied.

"It's sticky." Mandy said, stroking her lover inside his pants. She could be unbearably cute sometimes.

His cock was out, and suddenly Paul took my hand and guided it to his shaft. I gritted my teeth, shut my eyes, and suddenly I felt the first dick since grade school that wasn't my own. I was expecting revulsion, disgust, something. But nothing came. Paul was sucking on Mandy's breast, his right hand roaming her body, cradling her butt, and touching her nethers. Mandy kissed him, and ground her body against his, but her attention was on me. I liked that, and I turned my hand and shifted my position, so I could stroke the thicker man like I do myself.

Our ministrations worked, and Paul was hard, his girth filling up my hand which I kept well away from the head which was still coated with the slime of his lovemaking and leaking runny sperm.

Paul came up for air, "Okay, man. You know what to do." And he took Mandy in both arms and they kissed vigorously for several seconds.

I froze.

Paul looked at me, even as Mandy continued to slobber on him. He grinned, "You want to fuck my chick, you got to pay the piper. Now suck it."

Mandy paused in her Paul worship to grin at me, "Yeah, suck it." She said with incomprehensible cuteness.

I could hardly bear the thought of it, even as I pumped another man's member. Taking a dick in your mouth is not something to do lightly, much less the dick of a man you hate.

Even less so one that's oozing the remnants of cum that he's just deposited in the woman your sucking his dick to fuck.

"Look, this isn't a good idea." I let go of Paul's cock, my whole body trembling, knees literally knocking.

Paul gently pushed his lover off of his broad chest, which she was pawing at, trying to get to the flesh underneath. "Look man," Paul said, "You're going to suck my dick, and you're going to like it. Dig?"