Marta's Story

Marta's Story Marta's Story

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


she wants revenge sex against her cheating husband. Marta decides to sleep with a Co Worker.


she wants revenge sex against her cheating husband. Marta decides to sleep with a Co Worker.


Submitted: December 09, 2013

A A A | A A A


Submitted: December 09, 2013



“Ok Pancrak, you and your team are good.”

The company CPA leaned back after punching in the last bit of data. Pancrak leaned back too, blowing out a long held breath.

“Thanks Ma’am,” he said, stretching. 

Not for the first time had he read the placard on her desk, “Crusher Of Hopes, Destroyer Of Dreams” Finishing the money end of a job was always stressful. She leaned back in her leather chair, relaxing herself as she said,  “Just between you and me, what was the receipt for B&H consulting?” She’d known him too long and knew the reputation of his team not to know that somewhere, buried and legal, was some sort of deviltry.

Pancrak turned red then burst out in a laugh. “Ma’am, you know.”

“No, I don’t!” was the reply, her eyes shining and bright teeth flashing in a wide smile. She was laughing back with him, like catching a small boy in the cookie jar.

“Beer and Hookers,” he laughed.

“Aye, you guys are soooo bad!!” She slapped lightly at his knee. “Tell me more of the Trip.” It was late, but he enjoyed the CPA’s company. She was an extremely intelligent woman, confident and professional. Besides he liked to make her laugh.

“OK, But lets get some coffee and something to eat, I’m starved,” he said as he got up, grabbing his files while she shut down her computer and closed down her office. It was late and he hadn’t noticed when the rest of her subordinates had left.

She stepped out of her office and locked the door behind her. Pancrak looked at the petite frame, so neatly put together, wondering what she looked like when not wearing the company dress uniform of dark green blouse and grey pants. Both items of clothing were slightly large on her athletic frame. Pancrak liked his women a little bit meatier but found the CPA’s olive skin and exotic features attractive.

They walked down to the café at the heart of Bane’s World Security Consultants Planetary Headquarters.  They caught each other up on small talk. Pancrak and his team had been on a survey mission on Rusafa, finding out if the inhabitants there could truly afford the high end “help” offered by the BSC. It was a long three weeks standard, full of little adventures that he told the CPA, Marta, in ways that made her break into gales of laughter. Her loud clear laugh chased some of the demons from his mind that were really attached to a few of the stories. The fun was in the telling anyway.

They found a table and ordered. When the food came they were still talking, falling into comfortable conversation, Pancrak wrapped in her very words, as always enthralled with her intellect, and quick wit.  Somehow, the conversation turned to personal matters. Some things are best left buried under old scars, no matter what friend asks them. For some reason he found himself divulging things to her that most men don’t even tell themselves in the dark.  Warning bells went off in his head, “Marta, how are you and Tom doing?”

Like throwing cold water in her face he saw her tense up. Dropping a steel wall between them. Her dark eyes, seconds ago like deep warm pools of ink, now froze into hard, obsidian marbles. She looked away for a moment, tongue subconsciously licking her full lips. 

It came out in a flood, just like her to do that. Speaking very quickly, with great animation and passion. He could tell she was hurt. And because of their friendship he thought more of the counseling and helping her than anything else. So he tried. Sage advice from a veteran of The Domestic Wars. She sat back and relaxed some, listening, arguing.  He knew Tom, they weren’t on the same teams, or even in the same branch. But he’d worked with him on some projects and a few of Pancrak’s cousins in Tom’s branch knew him and spoke well of him. Nice guy. Pancrak thought Marta thought the world of him, until about 20 minutes ago. Not that she was visibly upset; she would not show that. Women like Marta do not get to be one of the junior vice presidents of BSC by being the weak and weepy types. But Pancrak knew, because he had the knack of knowing what lies under a persons skin. His green eyes could look into a naked soul if he wanted too. What he saw when next he looked into Marta’s made him shiver.

Marta never did anything by impulse. She was very calculated, very well planned. Most accountants were. That’s why Pancrak wasn’t an accountant. She stood up to leave; Pancrak did too. She turned and in a far off voice said, “Come with me.” In the pit of his stomach Pancrak knew he should turn and leave, say no, make an excuse, save her from herself. But all he could do was follow. They weren’t going to no church outing. The instinct that had saved him from hundreds of ambushes was screaming in his head and gut again. Caught between the loyalty to his wife and the excitement of this woman.

“Like a lamb to the slaughter…” he laughed to himself and gave himself over totally to the moment. Enjoy the now, forget the later.

She led him back to her office, unlocking it and closing the shade on the glass. Pancrak noticed the smoky, familiar sandalwood smell of the incense she sometimes burned. The office was spacious, paneled in oak wainscoting, a tall thin bookshelf with tech manuals and files on the right hand wall. The whole thing had a warm and comfortable feel. There were overhead lights that would light the room in white florescence, but she used a remote to light the twin lamps on her rich red mahogany desk. The carpet, soft under Pancrak’s boots kept their footsteps silent. A few plants and an entertainment center next to the shelf unit added to the room. Once again her fingers twitched on the remote and music flowed from speakers embedded at points in the room. Soft, almost jazz, Pancrak couldn’t quite place it. Must have been from Marta’s local Island, nothing like Pancrak’s music from  Neu Prague.

Marta, moved close to Pancrak as she said, “You know, I find you very fascinating.” She said it low, so he had to bend in close to hear her. He wasn’t much taller than Marta’s five foot two. His heart was slamming a mile a minute in his chest. He could smell her light perfume; see the soft wisps of dark hair that ran down the back of her neck. Feel the moist warmth of her breath. He reached out and pulled her into him feeling her small body fold into him. He just held her there for a moment, his hands finding the clasp to her bun, releasing her hair in a waterfall of black silk with auburn highlights, deep and rich, mocking the mahogany of the broad desk. It washed down over his arms and spread like a flood along her back. She pulled back, and he looked deep into those dark eyes, now gleaming in anticipation. He caressed a soft cheek, resting his thumb in the dimpled cheek, engulfed in the brilliant smile, then bent for ward to kiss her softly, fighting every urge to unleash the passions exploding inside of him. Not for this woman were the screaming hot slamming passions. She was of the type that enjoyed the slow steady build and maintaining the peak for as long as possible. So he kissed her softly at first, then answered her questing tongue with his playful one, dancing and twining, caressing, playing, biting softly at her upper lip. His hand caressed her neck, and then pushed her back, breaking the kiss. Allowing her to lead him to the dark blue sofa.

She pulled off her blouse as Pancrak knelt on the floor next to the couch. He sat her on the sofa and then laid her back, her head even with his. The two kissed again, Pancrak’s hands traveling along her body, caressing her soft neck, traveling its length and making circles behind her ear. Feeling the soft skin on his rough fingertips. Kissing and nuzzling behind her neck and ear. His hands ran over the soft silk of her bra, feeling the nipples pop beneath his palms as they moved in gentle circles around first one then the other.  Marta reached behind her back to release her bra, freeing her small, firm breasts. She had what are called in the barracks, “Tip-Tilts”, her perky quarter sized nipples arched sky ward, begging for a man’s mouth to suck them. Dark nipples, attached to a firm wide base, like a fallen D. These were the Boobs that made a man crazy. Firm, yet soft like caressing a firm ball of butter. She pulled the garment off and tossed it over by the desk with a laugh. Pancrak chuckled with her. His hands softly cupped her breasts, filling the palm of his hands, the small dark nipples like chocolate kisses. The nipples were erect and straining for his touch. He sucked first one, then the other, lashing the areola with his tongue, caressing them with his thumbs. He then slid his hands down her sides, caressing her belly. Kissing her again as his hands slid over and around her belly, caressing the hard muscles he found there, then moving his hand under her to play with the small of her back. He unleashed some of the passion he held in check, kissing her deep and hard, enjoying the softness of her lips. Her answering passion, arms pulling his head to hers was fuel to his internal fires.

Pancrak once again kissed down her neck, feeling her pulse thump hard in the veins there. His hands moved down between her legs and she spread them willingly. He could feel the heat as he caressed the inside of her thighs, feeling the heat from her crotch through the heavy fabric. He moved to the tops of her pants and slowly undid the clasps that held them closed. Marta was whispering in his ear in her native Creole, soft moaning sounds he couldn’t quite understand. As his hands passed over her cotton panties to play between her thighs she answered with a quiet squeak then a hissing of breath as he caressed the hot mound. His right hand became the focus of all of Pancrak’s attention. His whole being was concentrated on those five fingers. Even as he kissed Marta’s belly. Feeling it tighten as he ran a finger along the damp slit covering her mound. Two fingers ran along the sides of her, tracing the leg seams of her cotton underwear, teasing her by not quite touching her hot skin. Pancrak could feel the moisture and heat building as he ran the palm of his hand around, cupping the whole mound, Marta grinding down on it. Pulling him to her for another deep kiss, his hand came back up from her grinding hips to slide under the soft cotton panties, caressing the hollow formed by her hips, snaking back and forth, sliding through the silk-soft hairs and skin, then over the edge into the hot, oil of her hungry womanhood. He parted her gently; sliding a finger up the sticky slick lips from bottom to top then gently caressed the firm nubbin at the top of her folds. Marta moaned softly as he caressed the lips, letting them slide softly between his now oily fingers. She squeezed him tighter as he began circling her hard clitoris, slowly building up speed and pressure on it, sparking her into frenzy. He then slid one finger slowly into her. “So hot and tight,” he thought to himself. He felt the soft tissue fold around his finger even as he eased it deep inside of her, curling it back on itself to rub the top of the wall. His palm still adding pressure to Marta’s clit. Making slow circles, moving in a rhythm with her  hips. He then bent to kiss her breasts, unwilling to leave them out. He suppressed the chuckle the thought brought him. Marta was gasping, her head thrown back; exposing her soft neck to Pancrak’s soft kisses and bites. He felt her hips begin to hurry as he slid another finger to join his mate inside her box. “FUCK!” Marta gasped softly, digging her nails into Pancrak’s arm. He felt the muscled clamp on his hand and Marta gave a long moan. Clasping his hand between her legs. Then her body went limp. When she opened her eyes, there were tears in the corners. “You bastard, how much did they pay YOU at B&H Consulting!” she laughed.

Pancrak sat back on his heels, working the cramps out of his hand, enjoying the slick wetness still on it. “I’m not done yet, Bonita,” he said with his crooked grin.

“Oh? So what is next with you mister man?” she rose up on an elbow and looked down on him with a Cheshire grin.

“Get out of them britches and I’ll show ya,” he growled in a low voice. Half joking; half challenge. It had been years since he’d been with a woman like this. Challenging and fun!

He stood and removed his blouse, then tee shirt. Boots, soft and worn came off next. Hopping on one leg then the other Pancrak took off his socks, neatly stowing them in his boots. Marta noticed everything was within easy reach.  He had thick, dark red hair on his chest, following down the happy trail still hidden by his pants. Like her husband he had a few scars here and there, but his skin was lighter, with brown sleeves of tanned skin. A Farmer’s tan from years in the company uniform.

She  pulled off her own trousers while she lay on the couch, leaving her grey cotton panties, now damp with her own juices. He moved back to the couch, rubbing her arms and sides, seeing the goose flesh from the cold. He leaned between her legs, kissing her breasts again, then the hollow between them, kissing down her soft stomach, tongue chasing around her belly button until she spasmed in giggles. His hands then found the edge of her panties and lifted her hips, pulling them off. He was glad to see broad hips, with firm buttocks, and a nicely shaven patch of dark silk fluff, now jeweled with her own honey. Tiny diamonds winked at him in the soft golden light, while the thick musky scent of her wafted deep into his nostrils, savaging his control.  Deep in his memory an old saying caught him, “Always make a woman come twice before you stick yer dick in her, and she’ll appreciate you.” 

Pancrak kissed the inside of first one knee then the other, his hands massaging and caressing her thighs and butt, circling to the inner thigh. Like a cat, he slid down to lap at the softness of her, the point of his tongue splitting the now open lips wider. Tracing them from top to bottom, sucking them into his mouth to play with them on his tongue the dark tinged folds kept bright with Marta’s juices. Her long fingers ran through Pancrak’s hair and along his shoulders, and when he darted a flick over her glistening clit she dug her fingers into his shoulders, thighs clamping on the side of his head. “Target, fire for effect.” He sucked the little slippery knob between his lips and swirled it with his tongue. Marta bucked hard, up into his face, sucking in air with a hiss, her hips gyrating madly against his face, pounding on his shoulders. Then running her hands through her own lustrous hair as he once again slid his tongue down the length of her, allowing her to catch her breath, his hand sliding along her heaving belly. Lapping at the flood of clear musky juice at the base of her opening, then darting his tongue deep into her, feeling the soft muscle fold and clamp around him. He curled it around then slid back up to dart it hard and fast up under the hood of her clit, eliciting another gasp and a fist lightly pounding on his head. “Shit…” she muttered over and over, then swapped it for something in husky Creole as she spasmed once more, her legs clamping hard on his sides. One hand found the small of her back and caressed it, moving to the underside of her thighs, thicker than he thought they would be. Firmly muscled. Very nice. He spiked her on his tongue once more then went back to the small fast circles on her clit until with a solid crush of her legs and a thrust of her hips he felt her once again reap the whirlwind.

Panting, sweat dripping down her belly, glazing the olive skin she grabbed the side of Pancrak’s head, “Will you just fuck me!? I’m going crazy!” Her stern face was all business.

Stifling a laugh, and wiping his face Pancrak leaned back. He unbuckled his own belt and undid the clasps of his uniform bottoms. His own manhood leapt from them, straining to be free, throbbing to the hammering of his heart. The purple head bouncing as he shifted on the couch. Pre-cum making it gleam in the lamplight.

“Well if you’re all fired up to take it, give it a whirl ma’am,” he said as he laid back, letting it thump onto his belly.

 With a mock glare of anger, she changed end for end, sliding like a cat between his legs and wrapping her hand around the hard cock. Licking the base, then swirling it up along to the very tip, savoring the salty taste. She kissed his hips, getting a surprise as he giggled and thrashed. She bent to suck him deep into her mouth, taking most of him in. She pulled it back, stroking a few times, softly, letting her short nails softly scratch the length. She kissed his belly and continued to work her way to his chest.

Once again the spasming giggles as she returned the kisses to his nipples. “Hey I’m a little sensitive there,” he gasped between giggles. “I can stop that,” she smiled wickedly down at him. She kissed him deeply, pressing deep into the cushions of the sofa. Both of her hands were on his shoulders when she threw her leg over and positioned herself along his hips. She ran her slick pussy up and down along the hard shaft, smearing her own lubricant up and down. She then grabbed it and lifted it straight up, making sure the thick head was right there!

“Gimme that diamond cutter,” she demanded.

“AHHHHHHH!” as she dropped her hips down, feeling him spread along her insides, the thick, hot, spike sliding deep inside of her. Releasing her breath in a low hiss. She took his face in both of her hands and kissed him as she rocked back and forth with him buried deep inside of her. Slow circles as she ground herself on him. His hands on her ass, stroking the hard firm halves, then on the back of her thighs, driving her crazy.

 Soon she was arching and bucking on him in the uncontrolled frenzy that was the prelude to ecstasy. He caressed her breasts, sucking first one then kissing the other one. Her hand cradled his head as he moved back and forth. Her dark hair hung in a curtain, surrounding them like a dark waterfall. Pancrak was panting hard, thrusting back at her, enjoying her light build that allowed him to arch into her. The wet smacking sounds as she undulated on his crotch.

 She concentrated, as first there was a kindling in her crotch, then a spark of fire, then the thrusting and grinding built the flames until out of nowhere, she exploded. A soft moan and a catching of breath, then her hard breathing on his shoulder as she bit at it were Pancrak’s only indicators of her orgasm. So near one of his own he almost missed it.

With a shifting of his hips Pancrak rolled her to her back, sliding slowly in and out of her as she wrapped her legs over his hips, pumping half in and half out of her. She ran her hands up and down his back, kneading his back and butt both of them enjoying the feeling of closeness.  He ran his hands through her thick hair, letting it fall through his fingers, enjoying the softness, caressing her face, losing himself in her shining eyes, feeling his soul soften and blend with hers, the emotions of two becoming one.

Pancrak pulled out of Marta; wordlessly rolling her to her belly then drawing her hips up. She arched her hips up and high as he slid deep inside of her. He cut loose all his pent up passions. Thrusting deep inside of her, watching the delicate back shimmer with every hard thrust. Knocking breath from her every time their hips met. His view from there was astounding. The fine dark hairs that ran along the small of her back, the graceful curves of her back as it became her hips then ass, enjoying even the lighter tan lines left by her thong bikini. They all guided him to the point of his penetration. Soon he felt the heat building deep inside of him. He arched his back as he drove deep into Marta, feeling her folds squeeze back on him. Locking him deep inside of her. He pulled her hips tightly to his. With a gasp he jetted his searing sperm deep inside of her, splashing her inner walls with hot goo. Moneyshot! She squeezed and milked him, her trained muscles draining every ounce of cum he had. Finally with a giggle, she released him and let him sag back, splaying back on his arms. Pancrak was panting hard, amazed and shocked at this little trick.

Marta, looked back at Pancrak, laughing, “Something wrong?” she stood up and walked with a dancer’s grace to the small refrigerator. Her Gymnast’s body washed in the amber light of the lamps. She pulled two bottles of cold water out and brought them over to where he sat, still bringing his breathing back to normal. She dropped down next to Pancrak, tucking one leg under the other.  Long hair draped over one shoulder. She tucked it behind her ear as she handed him one of the bottles, opening her own and sipping delicately from it. For a second Pancrak was reminded of a doe, sipping from a stream.

“Wow! Mother fuckin’ Wow!” was all he could say to her.

 She grinned back, “What did you think? I didn’t have any tricks too? Shoooot.”

“ Now ya got me curious” he said going all serious.

“ Maybe; or maybe you’ll never know any more,” she teased.

“ That’s not nice,” he pointed out to her.

She pointed over her shoulder to the nameplate on her desk, laughing back at him. Crusher of Hopes, Destroyer of Dreams! Pancrak got to his feet. “ I can’t believe I got this for you on Tantos V!”

“Sealed your own fate compadre!” they were enjoying themselves, back into a comfortable area. Telling jokes.

She stood up, once again Pancrak was struck by her gracefulness, every move flowed. “Shower?” she glanced back over her shoulder as she opened a door at the back of the room. “Can’t go home to the wife smelling like you just left B&H Consulting can you?”

Pancrak held the door as they entered the small tiled room. 

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