all's well that ends well

The man pulls into his driveway and slams his vehicle into park. One look in the rearview mirror at his worn eyes reminds him what kind of day he’s had, and the summons lying in the passenger seat beside him, complete with Deputy Dawg’s still moist signature, drives this fact home. As he steps out of the car, he wonders if he should have left work even EARLIER so as not to be in such a hurry to get home.

While he walks up the steps of his peaceful suburban homestead, his negative thoughts are interrupted by the sounds wafting out from under the front door. There is no mistaking those sounds. Someone is not only getting fucked good and proper, but they are enjoying it immensely. Even before his wife’s shrill cries of pleasure can be recognized, he is overcome with disgust at having to come home to something like this after the day he’s just had. His fury is halted by curiosity: “Who the hell would have the balls to come over and fuck my wife behind my back?”

He creeps back down the stairs and stealthily makes his way to the north side of the house. The lawn is primly manicured and the hedges under the window freshly trimmed. The sounds of pure lust grow louder as he approaches the open window, and while he’s contemplating how to maneuver between the hedge and the house, he can’t help but be aroused by such boisterous fucking.

By the time he’s situated in a location that will give him a clean shot of the living room by just standing up, he has a raging hard on. Quietly he parts the leaves in preparation to stand, and that’s when he notices the young gardener on his knees directly under the window. His shirtless, well defined back is to the man, and although the man can’t see the young gardener’s hands, the rhythmic jerking of the gardener’s shoulders give away his actions.

After a moment’s hesitation, the man grips the young gardener by his shoulder and forces the gardener to face him. Luckily this action has stunned the gardener so much that his gaping mouth is not able to make a sound. The man, still gripping the young gardener’s toned shoulder, puts his finger to his lips in a “shushing” gesture. With the sounds of moaning and slurping filling the still air, the man lets his eyes drop from the handsome face of the gardener to the stiff tool the gardener was working with seconds ago.

By now the man’s cock is about to burst through his perfectly pressed pants, and an idea comes to him. He needs to release the extreme pressure building up in his balls, and his snooping gardener is the perfect target for him to take out all his aggressions from this shitty day.

While he begins to undo his belt, he grabs the gardener by the back of the neck. As the man’s swollen head emerges from the front of his silk boxers, the gardener realizes what is about to happen and starts to squirm away from the man. The man strengthens his grip on the young gardener’s neck and pulls his face closer. While the gardener has never been able to really understand his employer’s commands in the past, the gardener has no problem interpreting the look in the man’s eyes. Not wanting to lose this well paying customer, the gardener allows the man to push his mouth down to the man’s fully erect penis.

The head is huge and purple, and while the gardener has watched many pornographic movies before (as most young men with his sex drive do), he has never actually been in a situation like this. Perhaps it’s the heat of the moment or the sounds of grunting and slapping the man’s adulterous wife is emitting, but before he knows exactly what’s going on, the gardener finds himself lightly tasting the tip of the man’s member. As the gardener’s licks get longer, the man loosens his grip on the young gardener’s neck. The man leans back into the bushes and listens to the fuckfest taking place in his living room. The man’s cock is hot against the young gardener’s lips, and while he sucks more and more of the man’s dick into his mouth, the gardener can’t help but reach down and start stroking his own engorged organ.

The man doesn’t have to encourage the up and down movements of the young gardener’s head, so he allows himself to focus on what’s taking place in the living room. While he can’t see what’s happening, the familiar sound of hips smacking ass cheeks tells him that his wife is on her knees in her favorite position. He knows she’s about to come, not only because she always ends their sessions doggy style, but also because she’s beginning the panting, squealing orchestra that announces her orgasms.

Suddenly this is too much for the man. The thought of his wife being violated roughly from behind; the warm, inexperienced lips of the young gardener moving up and down his cock; the pure aggression and sense of power he has from making the gardener pleasure him orally. . . . .

The man’s balls tighten, the veins on his neck strain out as he throws his head back in a silent groan. Instinctively, the man forces the gardener’s head down so far that the gardener’s chin is resting on the man’s pulsating balls. The hot load being shot into the back of the gardener’s throat startles and excites the gardener in a way that is completely alien to him, and with one final jerk the gardener spills his seed on the ground. Shot after shot of the gardener’s come lands in the dirt while he continues to swallow the remaining drops of the man’s jizz.

In a matter of moments, the television resumes in the living room and the man is left sitting there with his drained cock lying limply outside his silk boxers. He glances at the gardener, who is looking at the man as if trying to determine his next move. While he returns his spent prick to its rightful place, he jerks his head to the side and whispers “Scram!” to the gardener. Without hesitation, the gardener is retreating through the bushes along the side of the house.

The man creeps back out of the bushes and prepares to confront his slutty, cheating wife. It’s probably a good thing he was able to utilize the gardener in the way that he did, otherwise there would have been one dead bitch and one castrated lover in his living room.

He once again walks up the stairs, grasps the door handle, and takes a deep breath as he opens the door. His wife and her best friend look up at him with a mixture of guilt and bewilderment in their eyes. “Honey,” his wife croaks, “you’re home early!” Both women’s hair is damp with sweat, his wife’s cheeks are flushed and the room is saturated with that pleasant, musty odor.

“Sally just came over to watch the afternoon soaps with me, huh Sally?” His wife looks at her friend, who is still looking at the man.

“Um, yeah,” Sally stutters. “But, ya know, I should really get going since Jordan will be home from school soon.” Sally looks at the man’s wife. “So, I guess same time tomorrow?”

The man’s wife nods as Sally stands and makes her way to the door. The man steps to the side as to allow his wife’s friend to leave.

“Good seein ya, Bill,” she mumbles and slides through the door. He watches her scurry down the steps and turn the corner toward her house. The man slowly returns his gaze to his wife sitting on the couch.

She pulls her legs up under her and reaches for the remote. “So what brings you back so soon? Bad day?”

A grin spreads across the man’s lips. “Nope. Actually, it’s been pretty damned good,” and he closes the door behind him.