Dirty Pics Lead to Dirty Tricks Ch. 05

Chapter 5

The drive home was a maelstrom of distraction. Madison's thoughts pin-balled through rage, recrimination and unrequited desperation. Her neatly orchestrated intercession by Horace Burke had failed utterly and her situation was now far worse than before she had enlisted his help. Not only had she been duped into more infidelity, but the struggle with Jane Reynolds took on the cloak of an unmitigated disaster.

The CEO's duplicity rivaled Jane's treachery in a way that left Madison wallowing in a tsunami of directionless self-pity subject to whatever malicious whim the head of HR could imagine for her. She felt certain that even without his help Burke would expect sexual favors and she would be obliged to provide them. Her balled fist pounded the steering wheel and fresh tears of frustration washed over her cheeks. She felt isolated from all of her support systems. Even Peter, her unsuspecting husband, loving and loyal to a fault, would be devastated if he knew that she had sullied their marriage not once, but twice with first Jeremy and then Horace Burke. She swallowed hard trying to rid her mouth of the disgusting taste and the horrible memory of what she had done.

As she rolled into her neighborhood she tried to compose herself. It occurred to her that the worst that could happen had already done so. Providing she could keep this past week's disasters from Peter, she could contain the damage until the evil bastards tired of tormenting her and moved on to some other amusement. She stopped at the Shell station a few blocks from home and repaired her makeup and brushed her hair. She wished she had a toothbrush and some mouthwash but she settled for scooping water into her palm to rinse her mouth. Her eyelids were puffy and red-rimmed but she thought Peter would accept it if she pleaded fatigue.

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Jane Reynolds relaxed in the fragrant bubbles of a hot bath soaking away the repugnance of sex with Horace Burke. Happy with the results of her difficult day, she still wished she could have been there when Burke told Madison to "clean him up". She could imagine the other woman's dismay and the thought amused her. The irony of her bitter rival licking her juices from the cock of the man she thought was going to save her was too precious for words. Now, after three years of putting up with Madison's "Miss Perfect" bullshit, Jane was looking forward to making her pay. It wasn't lost on her the way Madison had pleaded that "Peter can't know about this." She was so annoyingly superior when she talked about her husband and her marriage that Jane was fed up with hearing it.

Her first thoughts had favored an anonymous package delivered to the school where Peter taught. A nice selection of photos of Madison having sex with Jeremy would "set the cat among the pigeons" she gloated. But, the more she thought about it, the more an alternative plan began to form. Madison was so sure of Peter's undying devotion to her, it might be fun to see how Peter might react to a bit of strange pussy in his life. It might be fun to see Madison's face if she were the one opening the anonymous package. That would be sweet!

Jane's fingers caressed the smooth skin on her belly as she thought about the possibilities. She remembered Madison's dismissive disinterest when Jane's marriage had ended in a bitter divorce. Her "couldn't happen to me smugness" had been galling at the time and a little payback might be fun. Her fingers toyed with the soul patch of pubic hair that sat just below her bikini line. Peter wasn't a bad looking guy she recalled with a smirk.

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Horace Burke had retired to his study after a late solitary dinner. Mrs. Burke was out canvassing for The Kidney Foundation so he had a little time to himself. The downloaded DVD from the HR Director's computer would have been his entertainment for the night but Burke was still recovering from having had sex with Jane barely two hours ago. He skipped over the files with all the dirty pictures and went to her email accounts. People tended to regard email as private and, as a result, often left themselves unguarded. The fact that Jane Reynolds had three different email accounts intrigued him. Usually, there was one for business, one for personal, but three?

He pulled out the scrap of paper where Arnold had jotted down the passwords he'd found and like magic he was in. The business account seemed all in order. Nothing jumped out at him so he went to the one marked personal. The usual boring "hi...how are you?" stuff had him quickly scrolling through looking for anomalies. Apart from a rather terse admonishment to the ubiquitous Jeremy, nothing grabbed his attention.

The third account was a complete surprise. It took him a minute to realize what he was looking at. There was no sent file, only a very active inbox that contained very few emails addressed to Jane Reynolds. Burke was astounded to see his own correspondence along with that of every Director in company. The account was a repository for all of the company's high level communications diverted from the desks of the firm's most senior personnel. Along with business secrets there were clandestine emails to business rivals, doctors, bookies, drug dealers and homosexual lovers.

Burke was stunned by both the volume and nature of what he was looking at. Jane Reynolds was the J. Edgar Hoover of Paramount Enterprises. She had files on everyone who was anyone in the company; damning files that showed everything from theft of proprietary secrets to character assassination and philandering. His self-interest drew him to every entry that bore his name either as sender or receiver. The sensitivity of some of the documents left him with a feeling a dread as he scanned through the pages of his private correspondence. A whole series of emails with tax lawyers held possibly indictable evidence that was enough to put him in a cold sweat as he realized its implications.

Burke's shock slowly morphed into anger as he paced about the room clutching a bottle of scotch. Deceit, disloyalty and an abundance of blame ran rampant through his assessments. There were so many revelations that he could scarcely focus as each seemed more scurrilous and reprehensible than the last. People who he had trusted implicitly stood out for their treachery and Burke readily embraced the mantle of undeserving victim as if he was blameless.

Three times he had picked up the phone and begun to dial before thinking better of it. His first call would have been to Jane Reynolds to unleash a tirade of accusation and threat that would stop this bullshit in its tracks. He had scarcely punched in the area code when he hung up. Best not to alert her that he knew what she was up to before he was ready to strike her down.

Next was Albert; Albert fucking Cooney, his IT expert! How the fuck did this happen without him knowing? He stopped dialing when the question became rhetorical. What if he did know? And if he didn't, why didn't he? What if he was a part of this? An old fart like him might do a lot for a piece of ass like Jane. He knew Jane would spread her legs if there was something to gain. But Albert had downloaded the entire hard drive. Would he have done that if he knew it would expose what they were up to? No, that was stupid. But fucking Albert must have been stupid to have missed this.

The third call would have been to Madison Clarke. If she really did have something on Jane there could be a tradeoff. Then he remembered the look of disgust on Madison's face as she sucked his cock after he'd used it to fuck Jane. Not the best time to call, he decided, taking a long pull of single-malt straight from the bottle.

Burke was on the highway headed back to the office when he called Albert Cooney from the car. As much as he tried to keep the stress out of his voice, Albert knew that a call from the boss at 7:30 on a Friday night was not good news. The conversation was brief and Albert wasted no time in leaving. Forty minutes later Burke and Cooney were looking at the empty hard drive on Jane's desktop. Albert was unequivocal in telling Burke that the memory had been erased but the files would still be there and retrievable with a bit of effort. Retrieving them was not what Burke had in mind and Albert simple removed the entire drive.

The next questions were not as easily answered and Albert in spite of his expertise, was not able to find a connection between Jane's computer and those of the company's top executives. The possibility of a worm buried on each unit and siphoning off data to a cloud account seemed the most promising possibility. While that could be the answer as to how the accessing was taking place it immediately presented another set of problems.

With nothing else to go on, Burke left Cooney with the task of hacking the cloud account if it existed and destroying everything stored there. If that worked, the next needle in the haystack would be tracking down any backup accounts or hard copies and eliminating them. The final question, after everything else was accomplished, would be Albert Cooney himself. Perhaps he was no longer at the top of his game. Or, maybe he was the mole behind it all. Burke would defer that to another time. For now he needed him.

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Peter Clarke was a predictable man and Jane Reynolds was resourceful. It took her less than an hour to find out that Peter was a regular Monday, Wednesday, Friday attendee at Fergie O'Connors, the gym on Ivy Street near the school where he taught.

Expressions of wonderment at "what a small world," allayed any question the credulous Peter might have had about her being there and a glimpse of Jane in spandex was enough to get him thinking with his little head anyway. Ever the gentleman, Peter was happy to show her around on her first day and Jane was flirtatiously grateful. Later, after a relaxing chat in the whirlpool and then a shared liter of Mouton Cadet at the wine bar next door, they were fast friends.

Peter was enjoying Jane's company but was mindful of the time. Aware that Madison would be making dinner he knew that he should say goodbye and be on his way. Each time he would begin to say those goodbyes Jane found a way to delay him. She insisted that she wanted to pay for her share of the bill. But she did so by matching the liter of wine that Peter bought with one of her own. Peter did not need another drink but he didn't want to be rude so he stayed for just one more glass. And another.

When they did make it out to the parking lot Jane made a show of calling a cab until Peter graciously offered to drop her off. It was obvious that he was feeling no pain as he helped her into his car and fumbled around for the keys. They laughed about too much wine on an empty stomach. He sat for a few minutes trying to clear his head. Jane tweaked his ego with a teasing comment about men not holding their liquor and Peter took the bait assuring her that he was okay.

"Do you know how women hold their liquor?" she asked provocatively. An unsuspecting Peter admitted that he didn't. "By the ears," she smiled in the coquettish way that had beguiled men since she was teenager. "They hold them by the ears," she repeated with a naughty giggle.

Peter laughed at his own naivete not having expected the joke or the blatantly sexual reference. He wasn't sure how to respond so he laughed heartily buying some time to see where the conversation would go from there. She covered his hand with hers and laughed again, mocking him with her tone and her eyes. "You're embarrassed," she proclaimed in the patronizing way that you'd speak to a child.

His denial was quick and a little too emphatic to be believable. The insecurity that many teachers show when in the company of people with corporate credentials was evident in his demeanor and he tried to regain an aura of sophistication. "I was wondering how big my ears must look," he quipped inanely, hoping to show he wasn't at all out of his comfort zone with her suggestive humor.

"Not quite a handful," she assured him, "but big enough, I'm sure. Perhaps Madison doesn't appreciate that about you ... that size does matter, I mean."

It was obvious that she was teasing him with the mention of Madison but Peter again felt compelled to respond. He wasn't really sure whether it was Madison's sexuality or his own skill as a lover that he was defending. "I don't think you'd find her complaining in either case. She knows what she likes and isn't shy about asking for it."

"Does she enjoy giving as well as receiving?" Jane smiled slyly.

"Yes. Very much," Peter said, and immediately regretted it. The gleeful look on Jane's face confirmed that she was baiting him, manipulating him, drawing him into disclosing details of his marriage to Madison that were not appropriate conversation. Yet the discussion of such intimate matters with a woman other than his wife was undeniably arousing. He was fascinated by her boldness and reluctant to end the exchange.

"Is she good at it?" Jane asked bluntly.

Peter shrugged in a non-committal way intended to show that he was not at all daunted by her probing questions. He slouched back against the seat in a posture of boredom that belied the tension in his belly and his stiffening manhood. He hoped his nonchalance would make the bulge in his trousers less obvious.

Jane leaned towards him and slid her hand along his thigh finding his awakening member before he could grab her wrist. Her fingers gripped his erection and she held on while he tried half-heartedly to brush her hand away.

"Well? Is she?" Jane probed while her fingers tightened around him. Before Peter could answer appropriately, Jane stunned him with "I've heard she is very good. I just wondered if she's as good for her husband as well."

Peter was too surprised to react and Jane took advantage of his confusion to add "well at least she's discreet. Only the big brass really know, although they aren't the best at keeping that sort of thing secret."

Peter was in full retreat with the wine slowing his thoughts and Jane's hand toying with his erection. The suggestion of Madison's unfaithfulness unsettled him and he stammered "What do you mean, 'only the big brass know'?"

Jane was quick to continue "It's a man thing, I suppose. Half the fun is in the bragging rights. The alpha dog. They all want to be first and then, when they get it, they can't wait to tell the next guy."

"Who do you think...?" Peter began and Jane kissed him lightly on the cheek cutting him off with "It's better that you don't know..."

She took her hand away then and sat back. "I'm feeling a little sorry now," she lied. "It's obvious talking to you that you didn't know. I just assumed that you did. The old saying that "the husband is the last to know," is truer than I thought. It's common knowledge in the company. Everybody knows how badly Madison wanted the promotion..."

Peter's thoughts were in chaos. He wasn't so naïve that he didn't know that such things went on in a corporate environment. He just never thought of Madison sleeping her way to the top. He knew she attracted a lot of male attention. She always had. And, she's uncommonly ambitious ... the late nights at the office crossed his mind.

"Don't worry. She's smart about it," Jane comforted. "She's not some silly little bimbo who'll get knocked up at an office party."

"Who has she been with?" Peter asked again, trying to keep his voice from showing the emotion he was feeling.

"Lately?" Jane cuddled against him, laying her head against his chest so he wouldn't see the smirk. Her hand found Peter's cock once again and she was surprised to find him fully erect. The tab on his zipper slid down easily and she found the opening in his underwear, tugging his penis into view. The tip as already wet with his pre-cum and Jane spread it around the purple crown.

"Your little Madison's been busy," she hedged. "It wouldn't do for you to do something rash, if that's what you're thinking."

She bent forward and kissed the smooth bell shaped knob licking along the sensitive frenum until Peter moaned. "Slip your pants down," she instructed, tugging on his belt, "so we don't get anything on them."

Peter unbuckled and eased his trousers and underwear down below his knees while Jane buried her face in his lap kissing her way between his thighs and licking the wrinkled sack of his hairy balls. Sprawled across the seat the way she was, Peter's hand found the hem of her skirt and pulled it up until he could get his hand into her panties. Her mouth had fully engulfed his cock before he felt the excessive wetness between her legs coating his fingers.

His shock at hearing of Madison's infidelity was blurred in the raw lust he felt with a strange woman. His ego was wounded by Jane's testimony but imagining his wife with other men fed his most prurient fantasies.

Several times Jane felt Peter get close but she expertly held him off until he was panting with need. She didn't want it to end too quickly, at least not until the reality of his cheating with her was more than just a brief encounter. She wanted him to remember her talent every time Madison went down on him. But, when Peter had had enough of her teasing, he simply pushed in deep, holding her head down while he emptied his seed into her mouth.

Exhausted he laid his head back against the car seat catching his breath. Jane eased herself up beside him and kissed his open mouth. Peter never expected the snow ball she gave him and he groaned out loud with shock disgust.

With giggle, Jane leaned back against the passenger door and lewdly beckoned him between her thighs. "Time to return the favor big boy," she smiled "Time to show me that you can wiggle that tongue for more than just talk."

She linked her fingers at the back of his neck and arched up to meet his mouth. As much as she wanted his tongue inside her, she wanted to bathe his face with her abundant juices. Like a feral cat, she wanted to leave her scent all over Madison's man.

"Lick my little bum hole," she whispered and Peter did as she asked. For a brief moment she stopped moving and Peter raised his glistening face to see why. The flash illuminated the inside of the car and caught Peter's tongue reaching for her pink folds. A second shot and a third were in the camera's memory before Peter thought to object.

To be continued