Archive name: The Debt Collector.HTM (M/F,
NC, Cheat)
Authors name: Paula Wilson ([email protected])
Story title: The Debt Collector
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This work is copyrighted to the author and
the Unfaithful Wife Organisation © 2003.
Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this
story. All rights reserved. Thank you
for your consideration.
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Authors Note:
Donna Connors is at the debt collectors to try and sort out her husband’s
finances. She had hoped to delay the payments and had never dreamed of the
method of repayment the debt collector would suggest.
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Donna Connors was twenty-seven, blonde haired, blue eyed with a turned
up nose, a tight butt and up thrusting breasts. She and Conrad had been
childhood sweet hearts, prom king and queen and finally they had married. They
were the perfect couple, at least outwardly. Donna had a career as a teacher
whilst Conrad was developing his business, eventually she would stop work and they
would start a family. That was how everyone read their life together, sadly it
was a myth. Conrad might have been the school hunk but when they’d handed out
the brains he’s been AWOL.
Donna had never been with
another man; Conrad had been man enough and if he hadn’t borrowed money against
his crackpot business idea, then she wouldn’t have been where she was now. Of
course Conrad didn’t know that she was here, his pride would never have allowed
it to happen.
“I’m afraid that your husband owes a great
deal of money.” The collector pushed himself back and away from his desk.
“Exactly how much does my husband owe?” She whispered. The collector’s
office was on the third floor of a
“Would that be with or without interest?” He smiled.
“With, the total amount, just how much does he owe?” She whispered.
“Let me see, better get the latest figure.” He made a play at
recalculating the amount. “Give or take a dollar, I’d say almost thirteen
thousand.”
She reeled, her legs almost buckled. She had never imagined that Conrad
could have run up such a debt. They could never pay so much back. It was
impossible.
“Can you pay?” He gloated.
“No.” She shook her head. “Of course we can’t.” She was angry, angry
with Conrad for putting them in this position. If he would only talk to her
about his idea’s, but he wouldn’t. She knew that now, that Conrad’s pride would
always be his downfall.
“I can think of a way.” He sneered.
“How!” She was eager to know
and yet couldn’t conceive of any way that Conrad and she could even pay back
the principle.
“You could pay that amount back like that.” He snapped his fingers and
then gestured towards her. “You sure have a nice body, curves are in the right
places and you look sassy enough to make me think that you enjoy fucking.”
She gaped at him. What was he suggesting? “I don’t understand?” She
stammered.
“Simple, you have a good body, lets say we establish a tariff, fifty
bucks for a blow job, one hundred for a fuck, two fifty for anal.” He smiled;
he had yellow teeth discoloured through lack of care. “Do you like to fuck?” He
leered.
She hesitated. The truth was that she did like sex, hell; she loved sex,
but only with Conrad. “Not with you!” She snapped.
“Sure you will, else I’ll call in the loan and you and that pretty boy
husband will be on the street. So babe, make your choice, work for me and the
debt will be forgotten. What do you say?”
“No!” She answered defiantly.
“It’s your choice.” He laughed. “Fuck or pay? I want one or the other
and I want it now.” He slammed his hand against the desk; she jumped, startled
by his sudden action and the sound.
“We can’t pay.” She whispered. It was the humiliation that she’d suffer
that hurt the most. Almost everyone would enjoy their downfall. She knew she’d
played the school bitch, confident that her looks would always bail her out.
Yeah, there would be plenty who’d enjoy hearing of her misfortune.
“Then you pay.” He laughed,
standing up and walking across the room towards her. “Put your hands on the
desk.” He ordered.
“Please!” She whispered. “Give us time.”
“You are getting time.” He
laughed. “You can pay any time but
until you do … just put those pretty little hands on the desk.” He ordered.
“Just imagine that screwing for me keeps the bailiffs from your door.”
Slowly, oh so very slowly she did as he ordered. She was shaking, not trembling,
but shaking. It was a real effort to place both hands upon the desk. He was
behind her and she could guess what he had planned.
“Spread those pretty legs.”
“I can’t.” She breathed; her throat was dry, her chest tight, and her
heart pounding so loud that it was deafening.
“You will.” He laughed. “They always do, it just takes some longer than
others." He touched her arm and she jumped.
“Don’t do that.” She grunted. She tried to step back but all she did was
walk backwards into his strong arms. Immediately he pushed her forwards.
“Who said that you could move?” He snapped. “Now put your hands back on
that dam table!”
She did so, knowing that to do so was an admission that he was in
charge, but he knew that already.
“Now, spread those pretty legs.” He repeated and this time she did so.
“That’s enough.” He ordered. “Just wide enough, so that you stretch that dress
across that nice, tight butt of yours.”
She felt his hand stroking her cheeks. She bit her lip to fight down the
sound that her throat wanted to make.
“Ever been fucked up the arse.” He whispered, his hands were roaming across her backside.
“No!”
“How about blow jobs, do you suck
cock.” He made it sound so disgusting. She felt his hand staring to roll up the
hem of her dress.
“Only with my husband.” She
admitted.
“Bend forwards.” She felt his hand in between her shoulder blades,
pushing her down until her elbows were resting upon her desk and she knew she
must look totally exposed to him. He finished lifting her dress. “Jesus lady! You have on hell of an ass.”
She knew what he meant. Conrad had always loved her bottom and she had
always dressed in a fashion that pleased him. So her panties were perfectly
white, almost transparent in stretch Lycra. She would look sensational, only it wasn’t Conrad who was seeing her,
but a sweaty overweight and ugly man who was blackmailing her to have sex with
him.
“Boy oh boy, your husband is a lucky man.” He ran his hands across her
taunt, perfect rear. “A man could die between these cheeks.” He traced a finger
from the waistband of her briefs, down between her buttocks, pressing the thin
fabric deep between her cheeks. She felt his finger brush against her anus. It
was a shock; even Conrad had never touched her there.
The finger didn’t stop, it travelled down, leaving her anus and pressing
against the outer lips of her sex. Now she flinched as he rubbed her crotch
against her.
“Like that?” He laughed coarsely. “Course you do. You just love to fuck.
I can always tell, what’s wrong? Doesn’t he fuck you often enough? Course not.
It’s written all over that pretty little face. I’m horny and need a good fucking.” He mimicked a female voice.
She tried to close her mind to his crudity with its insinuations as her
sex life, but she could feel his hand, his fingers pressing ever harder, even
through the reinforced fabric of her gusset. It was starting to feel good, like
she never felt with Conrad.
“Am I right?” He gloated. “You’re just another pretty little housewife
who needs more than their darling little husband can provide.” He laughed.
“Tell me I’m wrong.” He taunted.
“You are wrong.” She managed to gasp. “I love my husband and there is nothing wrong with our sex life.”
“Sure baby.” He laughed. He pressed his hand against her, between her
legs. “This gets you wet, doesn’t it?” He teased.
“No!” She snapped defiantly.
“No? Let’s see.” She knew what he was planning but could do nothing to
prevent him. He still had his hand pressed into her shoulder blades, pinning
her down. She felt his hand slide beneath the leg elastic of her briefs, across
the narrow band of her pubic scrub and then he touched her and then he knew. He
laughed long and loud. “Very wet and very wide, you want me baby, you really want
“I don’t.” She persisted, fighting the feelings that his fingers were
bringing from her.
“What I’m feeling says you do.” He laughed again. “Now how about a big,
thick cock, want one of them instead of the fingers?”
“No!” She gasped.
“Lesson one. It’s what I want
that counts and right now I want to see your face with my cock down your
throat.” He warned her.
She didn’t know whether she was relieved or not when he withdrew his
fingers. The sensations had been good and had been getting better. She hated
herself for even thinking like that. She was in love with Conrad and he was the only man that she had ever
wanted.
“Don’t move babe.” He laughed. “I just looove the view from back here.”
She winced but did as he said. He walked around the desk and sat down opposite
her. She felt stupid. If someone were to walk in this very moment, what would
they see?
“Someone may come in.” She whispered urgently.
He glanced at his watch. “We have another hour before anyone is due back
into the office, that’s plenty of time; now get that pretty little butt around
here.”
She hesitated, knowing that all the time she was coming more and more
under his spell; soon his command would be total. It was a control thing and
once she was under then only he could release her. Despite that she sank to her
knees before him.
“Unzip me.” He said quietly. “Belt first.” He added.
She did so, never looking into his face but all the time staring at his
crotch and its very obvious bulge.
“Pull it out!” He ordered in that same quiet voice.
It felt huge, hard and hot. Conrad’s had never felt quite like this. She
had to haul it from his shorts and then she gasped. It was huge, the biggest cock that she had ever seen.
She had expected his cock to be like her husbands but Conrad’s was thin
and cold in comparison. This was thick, her fingers barely touched around its
girth, the head was huge, an angry purple head.
“Big eh! They all say that.” He
chuckled. He rubbed himself, his thick, stubby fingers moving with a practised
easy up and down the stalk. “You try.”
She did, feeling the heat and the obvious power. It was so hard, almost
like metal, unbending against her touch. Conrad was never this hard.
“Suck it.” He ordered.
She did so, now without the disgust she had felt only minutes before.
She licked her lips, moistening them, and then she blew her hot breath onto his
cock head. He sighed, just like Conrad did
Slowly she took him onto her mouth, keeping her lips about the thick
helmet. She drilled her tongue against his cock slit. He jumped; his hand
caught her blonde hair, holding her in place.
“Nice, very nice, better than I’d expected.” He grunted.
Donna licked the length of his stalk, the veins stood out, dark purple
against his paler skin. The taste was heavy, salty. She’d never really noticed
how Conrad tasted.
The collector was different, so very different. He smelt male, hairy,
strong, and powerfully masculine. Conrad was almost female by comparison; he
wasn’t of course. It was just that the collector was so very masculine.
It all began to give her the feelings, those sensations that
Conrad always triggered inside her.
Donna knew that it was wrong, very wrong to feel the way she was doing,
her nipples were stiffening, rubbing against the cups of her brassier, and
between her legs it was getting squishy, their word for hot and horny.
Suddenly he pulled her away. “Enough!” He grunted.
Donna cried out in pain, he’d used her hair as a lever. “That hurt!” She
protested.
“You’ll survive!” The collector laughed harshly, standing up and still
holding Donna by the hair he hauled her to her feet.
He was cruel and crude so unlike Conrad, and yet Donna no longer
objected to his touch, no matter how rough and insensitive that touch was.
“You wear a bra?” He grunted.
“Yes!” Donna replied as defiantly as she could muster.
“Take the dress off.” He ordered.
“What…No!” Donna protested. There was no way that he was going to get
her naked in his seedy office.
“Don’t argue!” The collector snapped. “Wait here!” He crossed to the
door and turned the key in the lock, and then he placed the key on the low
table next to the coffee percolator. “Now, do you take the dress off or do I
have to rip it off?”
Donna raised her hand to her mouth. What was she doing? Did she really
think he’d write off their debt because she allowed him to screw her?
“This won’t clear our debt will it? She found the strength to say.
There was the ludicrous sight of the collector swaggering about the room
with his hard, erect cock thrusting out before him, and then his already florid
face burst out in uncontrolled laughter.
He sank to his knees, that erection almost reaching to the scruffy
carpet. He was laughing so much that he could hardly catch his breath.
“Clear…the…debt?” The collector managed to gasp. “Baby, you will have to
work your butt off.” Slowly he recovered his composure and then rose to his
feet. He was still gasping for breath but the strength of his erection hadn’t
wavered.
“Take…that…fuckin…dress…off!” He warned.
Donna reached down to the hem of the dress and pulled it up over her
head. She shook her hair free and allowed the dress to fall onto the floor.
“Fuckin’ hell!” The collector whistled,
absently he rubbed his erection.
Donna stared. She had never seen a man do that before. She knew that men
did it, but she’d always believed it was in private and always alone.
“You have a luscious body.” He grinned. “So ripe
and really fuckable.”
Donna knew what he meant. She might be a one-man woman but that didn’t
mean that she was totally naïve. She looked good and dressed well. The bra
matched her pure white panties, its soft wire cups barely holding her ample
breasts.
“Now your bra.” The collector said in a
husky, coarse voice.
Donna glanced towards the door.
“It’s locked.” The collector said dismissively. He was till rubbing
himself and Donna found her gaze draw again to the sight. “You do it.” He
laughed, catching her hand and pulling her closer. “Come on babe, you swallowed
this so why not give it a hand job.”
“You are disgusting.” Donna whispered, but her fingers closed around
that hard stalk.
“Like this.” The collector started to move her hand, slowly at first and
then more urgently. “Don’t worry babe. I don’t come this easily.” He laughed
again. “You forgot the brassier.” He calmly reminded her.
“I can’t and hold this!” Donna protested.
“You have two hands.” The collected whispered into her ear. “Use them.”
As if to demonstrate the fact he cupped each of her buttocks. “Nice, very nice.” He coarsely laughed again. “Here, let me
help!” With a practised ease he reached up and unclipped the bra.
Donna felt her breasts being released from their confinement.
“See if you can work it out now.” He said sarcastically.
“I’m not stupid!” Donna hissed in defiance.
“I couldn’t give a shit what’s inside your head.” He said menacingly.
Donna bit back the ironic comment she wanted to make. She knew that he
wouldn’t accept that. He just saw her as a pliant and available piece of meat. There
was a difference between him and Conrad; her husband would never have treated
her with anything other than the utmost respect.
Instead she let go of his cock, that would show
him that she still had her independence, stepped back a half pace and removed
her bra.
“How’s that!” Donna’s eyes blazed defiantly.
“Just beautiful.” He cackled and then ran
his stubby, grimy finger across each nipple in turn.
Donna groaned softly and closed her eyes. It felt good, very good.
“Like that?” The collector laughed. “What about this?” He cupped her
breasts, squeezing her aroused nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
Donna released a cry she didn’t want to make. He was doing things
to her, things that even Conrad didn’t.
“I knew that you like to fuck!” He laughed.
“I don’t fuck!” Donna said through clenched teeth. It was strange
to say the ‘f’ word, normally Donna never swore and when she did, she never
used sex words.
“No?” He pressed her backwards until she was against his desk and then
he bent her over till her shoulder blades touched the wood. He was between her
open legs, she hadn’t been able to stop him doing that and then his mouth found
her right nipple and she stopped caring.
It was as if his tongue and teeth were charged with electricity and were
send volts coursing through her body. There was no other description for the
effect that it had on her.
Up to then Donna had resisted touching him, at least of her own
volition, now she couldn’t help herself. She grabbed hold of his head and
pulled towards her left breast.
The electricity was the same. Donna lost her breath such was the
intensity; her body spasmed like it did with her husband but so much more
intensely. He continued to maul her, this was no gentle caress, he nipped,
sucked and squeezed her breasts and nipples until Donna lay writhing and crying
beneath him.
“Now say that you don’t want to fuck with me.” The collector gloated. In
one move he pulled her panties down and off over her shoes. He lifted the
sodden garment to his face and sniffed. “You smell nice, how do you taste?”
“Oh God!” She cried. She hadn’t
meant to but the prospect of his tongue against her now leaking cunt was too
much. She’d cum if he even touched her there. She knew that she would.
He grinned and revealed a set of stained and uneven teeth. “I love the
taste of a nice clean pussy.”
As he lowered himself to the ground so Donna began to pray, not for
delivery but for enough strength not to enjoy this as much as she was starting
to.
He started on her, his tongue seeming rough against her over sensitive
flesh, she felt his lips as they sucked on her and then the tongue would drill
into her. He found her clitoris, something that Conrad didn’t always manage,
and drew the sensitive organ between his lips. It was too much; all of Donna’s
weakening resolve was dashed away by the intensity of her orgasm.
He chuckled, sounding immensely pleased with himself and licked her some
more. Donna started to moan, she forgot about her determination not to enjoy
this violation; all she wanted now was to give herself
to the experience. He crawled back up her body, showering her naked form with
kisses, licking slavishly around her belly button.
She tried to pull him higher, faster, now all she could think of was
having that hard dick inside her. He had won but Donna didn’t care, all she
wanted was to be fucked.
He kissed her and Donna could taste herself on his lips, it should have
disgusted her, instead it seemed to goad her on, as if each depravity he
inflicted on her simply lead her to the next.
He rubbed his cock across her gaping entrance, it was as if her cunt
tried to seize hold of his dick, Donna groaned her frustration as the failure.
“Ask me!” He grunted. “Ask me!”
“What …? Donna’s addled brain couldn’t reason, ask him what, all she wanted
was to be fucked. Fucked, that must be it. “Fuck me … fuck me you bastard …
Ahhhhh!”
He was inside
her, one deep thrust and he was buried within her. Donna’s cunt expanded to
take him and then contracted to hold him; with each thrust she lubricated more
until her juices were dribbling out of her. She had never felt anything like this, anything so purely animal. Conrad
had made love to her, this man was just fucking her, using her and she didn’t
care. All she wanted was her approaching orgasm.
“Like that
baby?” He crowed.
“Yeees!” A desperate Donna cried.
“Want some
more?” He was taunting her, taking her to the edge of her orgasm and then
pulling back.
“Yes, fuck you
… yes!”
“Like this?” He
slammed into her one last time and Donna started to come and come. He laughed,
held back and then as her orgasms began to subside began to fuck her again. For
Donna’s overstrained, sex fuddled brain it was to much, she started to orgasm
again and didn’t stop until he also came, shooting his sperm into her.
He let her
dress and then allowed Donna clean herself up in the nearest toilet, but she
had to return to his office to receive her instructions. He also appeared
dressed by the time a still dishevelled Donna returned and was now on the
phone. “Is that Conrad Connor? This is Paulo Rodriguez from Twenty First
Century Securities.”
Donna froze. He
was ringing her husband, whilst she stood there, still shaking from the orgasm.
“No, no Mr.
Conrad, this isn’t a shakedown. I
have been reviewing your file and believe that we can come to an arrangement.” He gestures to Donna to
come to his side of the desk, reluctantly she does so only to find that he is
still naked from the waist down. He points to his flaccid cock and then his
mouth. The meaning is obvious. A beaten Donna sinks to her knee’s and takes his
cock into her mouth, meanwhile he carries on talking to her husband.