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Seeing the forest in a new light.

I snapped another picture.

I was amazed at how turned on Katherine seemed to be from taking my cum.

"You're a natural-born slut, aren't you?"

"Yes," she said, cleaning her face with her fingers, scooping my sperm into her mouth. Just then, the conference room telephone rang. I made a shushing motion with my finger and lifted the receiver.

"Steve Richards."

"Hi, this is Cheryl from reception. Mike has a meeting scheduled there for 2:15 and he says the door's locked from the inside. Are you almost done?"

"Yes, we're finished." I said, looking at Katherine, who was examining her face for the last traces of my cum in her compact mirror. I replaced the receiver and then turned to Katherine, zipping my pants and putting my belt on.

"You've got what you want, now get out of here. If you contact me again, I'm going to send the pictures I took to your husband."

Katherine looked at me in anticipation, but she didn't seem scared, rather excited at my threat.

"Then he'd know what a slut I really am."

"Yes. I'm sure you want to avoid that."

"I'm not so sure."

Was she calling my bluff? I had no intention of sending the pictures to her husband, because the question of just whose cock that was in her mouth, and whose cum it was on her face would inevitably arise.

"I'll be in touch," she said, as she turned the knob of the conference room and walked out into the office, "thanks for taking the time to talk to me," she added, loud enough for the receptionists to hear.

"No problem."

"Who was that?" asked Cheryl, after Katherine's car had pulled out of the office parking lot.

"A friend of my wife's. She's been going through a divorce, and needed some financial advice."

"I see," said Cheryl, " that's why she seemed upset or something. Her makeup was all messed up after you talked!"

"Yeah, she's going through an emotional time," I explained, then went back to my desk. The rest of the day passed without incident.

On the way home, I pondered my situation. Two women were after me, both of them beautiful, both of them assertively slutty and determined to ruin my marriage. The more upset I got at them, the hotter the sex became, and the more aggressively they approached me. It was a vicious circle. I knew things were going to spiral out of control if I couldn't either control them or control myself. I had to admit that the sex was wildly addicting. I never knew when Kristine was going to show up, or what slutty thing she was going to do, and now her stepmother was in on the game, and clearly willing to stake her marriage on it.

Then something occurred to me. When you lose traction when you're driving, what do you do? You turn into the skid. Maybe that was just the ticket to solving my problem with Kristine and Katherine. I pulled over at a gas station and took out my cell phone. It was time to double down. All or nothing.

"Honey," I said to Mara when she picked up our home phone, "I'm really sorry, but I'm going to be really late at the office tonight. Like midnight or something. I know. I know. I'm sorry. Yes I'll call Luke and tell him goodnight."

Then, I dialed Kristine's number.

"It's me."

"Oh, hi Mr. Richards!" She seemed positively giddy.

"If you want to see me again, come to the Mariott off of route 73 tonight at 8:30. The room will be under your last name, Schmidt."

"Ooo Mr. Richards, that sounds like fun!"

I hung up. I was banking on the hunch that Katherine would be at hotel even though I had crumpled up her business card. I drove to a diner near the hotel and ate dinner. At around 8:00 pm, I dialed the front desk of the Mariott.

"Could I speak to Katherine Schmidt?"

"One moment."

The phone rang twice.




"Steve Richards."


"I'm on my way to the hotel."

"I'll be waiting."

I hung up, paid the bill and got back into my car. It was going to be a wild night.

When Katherine opened the door, I saw that she had changed into a short white cocktail dress with matching heels.

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