From the moment of memorable events at the dacha something has passed about a week. Everything went as usual. Work, sometimes sex with the chef at lunchtime, home, dinner, sex with my husband under my story about daytime events. Three of us have not yet succeeded. I was beginning to suspect that the chief deliberately sends Oleg with errands, and as long as he is not in the building, he calls me to the carpet. And sometimes, in the literal sense of this expression, I had already ruined several pairs of stockings, crushing my knees on the hard carpet of the boss's office, while he was satisfying his whims with me. It began to seem like he was jealous of my husband. It was not quite clear to me: it seems that the boss should not be ashamed of my spouse. Although Oleg later, comparing everything in time, told me that, as a rule, at that time he was picking up for the chief, then in tax, then somewhere else, while he used his wife. Oleg continued to excite this topic. More than once he, during our evening caresses, asked me to tell him the details of what and how ... and where. And I, wound up with my story about the boss, remembering everything in the smallest details, with a member of her husband inside, experienced my brightest orgasms.

But I began to notice that after such sex Olezhka began to move away from me. He no longer wanted to lie down together, as I loved. Now, after he had finished and came to his senses, he looked for his pants in a wrinkled bed and went into the shower. After the shower, I went to the kitchen and drank tea, looking at some documents on the laptop. It hurt me a little. I took such an attitude on the part of the chief as a given; perhaps it was even such a disdain that turned me on. But from my husband I wanted another. And now...

On one of these evenings, when the legal spouse, not having managed to bring me to the highest point, he discharged himself in my ass, I lay listening to the noise of the water flowing in the bathroom. Excitement sadly thawed, and not finding a way out. There was no satisfaction even with intimacy with my beloved after sex - he, as it had already become usual, smacking my cheek, immediately went into the shower. The bathroom door opened, the switch clicked, and I heard my husband go to the kitchen.

Sighing, I found a nightie and went to the shower. I brushed my teeth, combed. Having a little confused, I decided, nevertheless, before going to bed, to go to Oleg in the kitchen, and if I didn’t talk, then at least sit by and have something to drink.

Oleg sat hunched over a laptop screen, reading something intently. I easily ran through his hair and sat down beside him. The husband reluctantly distracted from the screen:

- Seagull before bed?

I nodded.

“Then I'll pour some more,” he moved the empty cup to me, his eyes on the screen again.

For a while I sat looking at my husband, not knowing how to react to such a frank conversation on my person. Then, feeling like something extra, I stood up, turned to the stove to fill the kettle. Quite unexpectedly, tears came to my eyes and I sobbed softly. A hand with a cup shook and in order not to drop it, I put it on the table next to the stove, trying to cope with myself. Oleg undoubtedly heard everything, but continued to sit without making any attempts to comfort me. Unable to withstand this, I began to cry out loud, annoyed with myself, but unable to stop. It was so unfair! I understood why my husband began to treat me differently, but didn’t we make these decisions together? Suddenly I remembered the time when I openly deceived Olezhka, surrendering to my boss behind his back.Maybe he finally found out about it? Maybe Sergey Vladimirovich himself told him about this in order to humiliate him somehow? From these thoughts, I generally burst into tears and, leaving attempts to fill the kettle, turned to leave the kitchen.

Oleg gently stopped me by taking my hand. He stood up, drew me to him and hugged me. How I missed this!

“It will all be over soon,” he said quietly.

I buried my face in his chest, sobbing softly. It was not clear what he meant, but I didn’t want to ask him about anything now. I just needed to stand like that, hugging, feeling his hand lightly stroking my hair. Having waited until I calmed down, Oleg pulled back a little and looked into my eyes:

- I'm working on something. Can you help me? - It was unusual to see him so focused and serious.

I nodded my disheveled head, more occupied with thoughts about how I now look with a reddened nose and swollen eyes than about what Oleg had invented there. The main thing is that he needs me.

My husband opened the laptop screen to me. I looked, did not understand anything, and again turned my questioning glance at Oleg. There was an image of some kind of registration card or statement, or something like that, with unfamiliar names and numbers.

- What is it?

- Registration of our company. Extract. Did you know that all the property of the company is written on the spouse of our boss?

I shook my head, confused. Why all this now?

- And no one knows, except, perhaps, the chief accountant. I spent some time here ... - Oleg again thoughtfully looked at the monitor.

- Why all this? - I still did not understand anything, but instinctively I felt that my husband had conceived something dangerous.

Oleg sighed, looked at my figure in the new nightie, rose from the chair, came to me behind my back. His voice sounded close to his ear.

“Besides what I don’t like, how our dear boss behaved,” his hands rested on my chest, covered with a thin lace nightie, and squeezed lightly, “no one can fuck my wife with impunity behind me.”

At the same time his lips took the earlobe of my ear, the fingers began to play with the nipples. It seemed to me that now is not the time for this, but the body responded to affection ... or to the phrase "fuck my wife." I licked my dry lips.

“I thought ... you like it when I ... what do you like about it?” I chose words, afraid to frighten Olezhka. I wanted to know what he was up to. I liked that we are again at the same time.

He pressed against me, and I felt that he was already tense downstairs. His hands slid down the body, and went up again, but under the nightie. He caressed my bare belly.

“I like it, but not so.” His hand slipped below, covered my crotch, and began to stroke, “did you notice that he always sends me somewhere?”

I nodded, excited, spread my legs a little wider. His middle finger immediately took advantage of this, making me languidly exhale.

“Did you think he was falling in love with you? ... is he jealous of me?” - Oleg squeezed my folds below with his fingers, as if in punishment for the very possibility of such.

Of course, I felt changes in the behavior of Sergei Vladimirovich, and intuitively guessed the reasons, but now I negatively shook my head.

Oleg brought a finger into me: I was ready. It was so difficult to concentrate on the words of the husband in such a state, but he continued:

- He is not as cool as he wants to appear. I learned that the capital for this business was provided to him by his wife's father. Therefore, everything is written on it - I was now more focused on his finger in me, who began to make progressive movements than on his words. I raised one hand behind my back, caressing his hair, his lips touching my neck.

- And what does this give us? - I already wanted to feel his cock in me and send away all these conversations, but I understood that all this is important.

- His wife is a blunt cow, I already talked to her. But Sergei Vladimirovich’s father-in-law is a tough friend, while Olezhka’s finger in me moved faster and faster and was also quite tough.With a sudden weakness, I wondered if I would soon have to get closer to meet Vladimir Vladimirovich’s father-in-law.

Oleg seemed to hear my thoughts:

- The little man is too old, of course ... but issues are resolved quickly.

My husband finally tilted me over the table, and having put a nightie on my back, he took hold of his waist. His hard end passed between my legs and began to rub me from below, for the present ...