The Accountant's Wife

My hands caressed her breasts. Her long nipples were hard against my palms. Our eyes locked together.

"I am sooooooooo going to fuck your brains out," Rebecca vowed.

My only response was a knowing smile. She leant down and kissed me, hard and passionately, then hungrily and lustily.

As my hands roamed her body, Rebecca let me up long enough so I could move to the center of the bed, then, she took my hands again and pinned them down. I put up a token struggle, but otherwise willingly met my fate.

We continued to kiss. Rebecca pressed her body against me. My cock was hard, brought to full attention by my lover's eagerness.

Rebecca started to grind her pussy against me and moaned in anticipation as she felt the head of my rampant beast against the entrance to her sex. She let out a long sigh as I entered her. She threw her head back, as with one thrust my full length penetrated her. We both gasped when I hit bottom.

Any semblance of control she'd had was long gone. Lust consumed her, desire clouded her thoughts. Up and down she bounced. Her hips moved back and forth, her clit rubbed against the base of my cock as I filled her up.

I tried to move my hands, but Rebecca still held me down. She was out of control. Our teeth knocked together with wet, slobbery kisses.

Up and down she moved; the ride of her life. I didn't dare move as Rebecca rode me. My cock stood straight up as her pussy enveloped it.

I couldn't speak because her tongue was in my mouth, dueling with mine.

Rebecca closed her eyes. Up and down she moved, faster, harder. She sat up, releasing my hands. I sought out her swaying tantalizing breasts, and I captured them, squeezed, pinching her nipples. Rebecca cried out in glorious anguish.

Her hands closed over mine. She needed to steady herself.

It felt wonderful, the soft encompassing flesh of her slick passage the perfect glove for my eager body. Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut as the tears began to flow. Overcome with desire, she let out a gasp and brought herself down hard on me.

She felt my hips push upward. Her hands clasped me tighter. With one final cry, the room started to spin. The head of my cock was flaring inside her and then she seemed to explode as my cum spurted out to coat the walls of her willing receptacle.

Waves of pleasure wracked Rebecca's body. She continued to grind her hips against me. I kept moving to match her and extend our mutual pleasure.

There were flashes in the corners of her eyes. Her hypersensitive nipples were pressed flat against my palms. Her pussy flooded with her sweet nectar, mixing with mine.

I tried to steady her, but she collapsed anyway, falling on top of me, her thudding heart vibrating against my chest.

Intermezzo: two years before the main event; when we first meet Marcus.

Rebecca and I were on holiday in the Aegean Sea with Jessica, our five-year-old daughter.

She had flown into the U.K. exactly one month after our first night together and had immediately moved in with me. She became a commuter, traveling back and forth to London every day on the train. We got engaged two months after that, while on a long weekend with Karen and Mary at Francesca's Villa.

The wedding was six months later. It was a full-blown Atlanta society wedding in the grounds of Rebecca's parents' mansion. We honeymooned at an island resort in the Maldives, and then we settled down to married life. Two years later Rebecca was pregnant, and we had a daughter.

After Rebecca's first year in England, Winter and Associates opened the proposed international branch in London and Rebecca had been given a partnership. She was happy in her position, her marriage and we settled down to life in the Sussex countryside.

We had been invited to join Mary and David for a month cruising on a 50-meter yacht they'd chartered for the summer. We weren't their only guests; Rebecca's parents had flown over from the States. Karen and Francesca were due to arrive the week after Conrad and Rachael had left.

Our relationship with Francesca was interesting; I had never slept with her since that evening of my birthday party, but I hadn't hidden my relationship with her from Rebecca. She knew I'd been involved with Francesca, but not the details. After our weekend in New Orleans, I told her everything. Rebecca had understood at my birthday party, that Francesca and I had been close. Mary had confirmed it when she'd shown her Francesca's paintings including the one of me.

"Only a lover could have painted you like that," she told me. "Do you still love her?"

"I'll always love her," I admitted. "It'll be impossible not to, but she's no threat to you."

"I know that she came to see me," Rebecca acknowledged. "She said that you were the only man she'd ever contemplated falling in love with. Karen and Mary were her true lovers, and I'd be foolish if I rejected you because of her."

For all that, Rebecca and Francesca have become close friends. Of the three other influential women in my life, it's Francesca she's the closest to. It's a tad odd listening to the pair of them describing me in intimate detail. We see Francesca several times a year, and she is one of our daughter's godmothers. She loves to paint us, and we are the proud owners of one of the best privately held collections of paintings by Francesca. Her Triptych of Rebecca, Rebecca pregnant and mother and baby, is world famous. It hangs on our lounge wall when it's not jetting all over, taking center stage at exhibitions of Francesca works.

We'd been on board for just over a week when the yacht headed for a harbor on one of the Greek islands. We were scheduled to pick up a couple of Conrad's friends, Roger and Pamela Donaldson. Roger was American and the owner of a group of companies, the Donaldson Corporation, mostly based in the USA with a smaller division in Europe. His wife, Pamela, was British. He, David and Conrad had been in the same fraternity at college and had kept in touch over the years.

When the yacht moored mid-morning, there was a third person waiting with Roger and Pam on the harbor wall. He was just over six-foot-tall, a smart looking man wearing casual trousers and a linen jacket. His face was thin, with brown eyes and a sharp nose, and capped with styled light brown hair. An elegant, handsome man, who was I guessed in his mid-thirties, and who seemed to be in the midst of a deep discussion with Roger.

Pam walked up the gangway as soon as it was lowered. "I apologize," she said to David and Conrad. "This is our nephew, Marcus Forde." She pointed at him. "He turned up today; he needed to speak to Roger urgently. There's some issue at the division where he works. He thought it would only take a couple of hours to sort out, but as you can see, they're not finished. I was hoping that your invitation would extend to him as well. It's should only be for a day or so. We can drop him off at our next port."

"Of course," David said, and that's how Marcus first came into our lives.

He and Roger boarded the yacht and quickly drew David into their discussion. They paused briefly to make their introductions. Apparently, Roger and Pam had been at our wedding, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember them. Marcus had that unique British public-school arrogance that immediately grated on me. All the ladies and Jessica thought he was charming.

In the end, Marcus only stayed one night on the yacht. After an early lunch, he and Roger retreated to one of the staterooms for most of the afternoon. Several times David and Conrad were asked to join them; at one point Conrad asked Rebecca to speak with them.

She came back to Jessica and me, shaking her head in annoyance.

"Dad's agreed to take on the company Marcus works for, as a client," she complained. "He sees it as an in, to get the rest of Roger's business in the future. Christ, their finance and sales directors have been playing fast and loose with the local trade laws. They've managed to resolve the immediate issues, but I've got to meet with their legal team next month. Marcus was eager for me to fly back to the Britain with him to meet with them as soon as possible."

"I hope you said no."

"Of course I did, and Dad backed me. I called the office, and they'll send a team to sort it out. Marcus is flying back tomorrow, so there is a change of plan, and we're staying here for the night."

I gave her a hug, and then we both returned to the important issue at hand: to entertain our daughter by the small swimming pool on the aft deck. Rebecca slipped off her sundress and glanced at me for my approval. I blew her a kiss; the blue Wicked Weasel did an admirable job of showing off her body while maintaining at least a passing nod to decency. Or it did so, until it got wet, becoming completely pointless, as the fabric turned translucent.

Hey, I enjoyed the show, and Jessica couldn't care less, she was having fun with her parents. Mary had foolishly bought her a super soaker and was now regretting it. The little terror kept sneaking up on Mary, Pam and her grandmother as they were sunbathing on loungers and splashing them.

It was later on that I got a weird, uncomfortable feeling. We were still at the pool and Jessica, fortunately, was starting to slow down. Mary and the others had gone in, a little earlier. Jessica had wanted a last swim and Rebecca had taken her into the pool. She'd only lasted a couple of minutes before she wanted out, and Rebecca had passed her up to me. I'd taken my daughter, wrapped a towel around her, and we both watched as Rebecca swam the last couple of laps.

That's when I got the prickly feeling between my shoulder blades. I looked around, and I finally spotted the source of my discomfort, Marcus' head was silhouetted against the sky above me. He was leaning over the rail of the deck that overlooked the pool area and was watching Rebecca intently as she got out of the pool. She looked like a goddess rising from the sea. Her bikini was nigh on invisible; her pussy and prominent nipples visible through the transparent fabric, and she was oblivious to his scrutiny. I stepped towards her holding out a towel, and when I glanced back in his direction, he'd gone.

I thought about mentioning it to her, but for some reason, I didn't. In the end, it didn't seem all that important, and honestly, I think that any red-blooded man would have paused to watch her.

That evening, we all went out to a local family friendly seafront restaurant. Our daughter's doting grandparents had insisted she should come with us. The waiters pushed two tables together to seat all the ten of us. I do love how Mediterranean restaurants are so child-friendly, and this one was no exception.

The waiters fawned over Jessica, finding cushions to place on her chair and happy to let her put her hands in the big tank with the lobsters for sale in it. For some inexplicable reason, none of us could order lobster. Hell, could you if a cute little girl is peering into the tank and is naming every one of them. Marcus was the only one who put up a token attempt to order one of Jessica's new pets. He retreated at her withering glance.

The food was excellent, but it wasn't too long before Jessica's head was drooping and she was trying to stifle a yawn. I said I'd take her back to the yacht as Rebecca and her father seemed deep in discussion. Rebecca gave me a grateful smile, and I whispered that I'd be back as soon as I settled her down. We'd previously arranged for one of the female crew members to babysit if it was required.

With a sleepy Jessica in my arms, I walked the couple of hundred yards to the yacht. The on-duty crewman met me at the gangplank, and Mel, the babysitter, was waiting for us at our stateroom. It took me a while to get her settled down, two stories from her favorite book.

It was probably an hour before I left my sleeping daughter in the care of Mel, and I was able to return to the restaurant. There had been a subtle rearranging of the seating while I was away. Marcus had slipped into my empty seat and was talking to Rebecca. I gave him a pointed look as I moved to stand beside her. He started to ignore me, but then seemed to think better of it. He stood and pulled a chair over from an adjacent table and placed it behind her and sat down, gesturing to me to take my chair.

"I'm sorry if it appeared I'm monopolizing your wife," he said. "I needed to discuss the situation and see if I couldn't try to convince her to fly back with me."

"Not going to happen," I responded. "We've got nearly three weeks left, and there's no way I'm going to let her cut her vacation short."

To my surprise, she didn't immediately agree with me. "Well, I was just wondering if I shouldn't go back for a couple of days," she said. "Just to make sure the team gets set up properly?"

I shook my head, "As I said, 'not happening'. We're on holiday with our daughter. If you need to talk to your office, then use the phone or your laptop. You're not going to spoil Jessica's holiday."

She gave me a slightly confused look, "I... I, why didn't I think of that?" She questioned herself. Then she said to Marcus, "As I said this afternoon, I've got a great team in place, and they will be in contact with you as soon as you get back. They can check in with me if they have any questions."

I thought I saw a flash of annoyance cross his face and then it settled back to his usual smiling mask, which he turned in my direction.

"Your charming wife is correct, and I shouldn't have pushed the issue." Then he gave me an appraising look. "Conrad and Roger were a bit evasive earlier on, about what you do, Michael. Are you some type of super spy?"

"Hardly, unless you've lost some money. I'm an accountant."

Rebecca laughed and blew me a kiss. She said, "Yeah, he's The Accountant."

That was a family and friends in-joke. Working with a low profile was always easier for me. When I was asked, I would usually describe myself as just an accountant. In retaliation, the people who knew me started to call me "The Accountant" when they were talking about me and stressing the capital letters in their correspondence to me.

I'd taken it with good grace, especially after Lesley had changed my title on my business cards and email signatures to "The Accountant." Marcus never picked up on the way Rebecca stressed my title, nor did he notice the knowing smiles from Conrad and David.

"An accountant," Marcus said, dismissively, and smiled to himself before turning back to Rebecca and attempting to pick up his conversation with her. She ignored him, moved closer to me and asked how our daughter had settled down.

"It was a two-story night," I conceded. "She's asleep now, and Mel's keeping an eye on her."

"So, we don't need to hurry back?" she hinted.

"Nope, fancy a walk along the beach?" I asked as I grinned suggestively.

She almost purred her agreement.

"I could do with walking some of this meal off, mind if I join you?" Marcus asked.

I gave him an annoyed look, and Rebecca shook her head.

"I'm afraid not," I said. I couldn't understand why he would suggest that. It was fairly obvious we'd wanted a bit of alone time.

Rebecca added, "You know the saying, 'Two's company, three's a crowd'. As much as we love our daughter, we also value the odd moment we are alone. So, goodnight Mr. Forde," she added dismissively. His gaze hardened, but he said nothing.

Rebecca stood up and took my hand, then we headed out of the restaurant, stopping to say a brief word with her parents and Mary.

We walked along the coastal path; the only sounds the crunch of the gravel underfoot, the swish of the waves as they caressed the sand and the chirping of the cicadas in the bushes.

We'd walked about four hundred yards past the headland. We were starting down towards a remote beach lit only by the moonlight before my anger bubbled over and intruded into nature's opera with a question. "Who does that arrogant son of a bitch think he is," I snapped. "Why were you even thinking of going back with him?"

She gave me a startled look, "I don't know why I was even considering it, for just a moment it seemed the right thing to do. He's Roger's arrogant SOB of a nephew. Christ knows why he's here. Dad and I could have solved his problem with a simple phone call."

"Then what was it all about, other than trying to chat you up. You know he was spying on you this afternoon by the pool."

She stiffened, "I thought I saw a glimpse of him, but I wasn't sure."

She paused to wrap her arms around me. "What's that thing you say about people sometimes? Oh, yes, 'he's a bit of a git'. He seems to be doing a hatchet job on his boss. They've got a problem, and I think he's using the family connection to make sure Roger gets his side of the story first."

"So who caused the problem?"

"From the sound of it, it's his fault, but Roger has a bit of a soft spot for him. His mother is Roger's older sister; she apparently brought Roger up after their parents died. She married a minor member of the British aristocracy and Pam complains that he'll do anything for her and that includes turning a blind eye to any and all of Marcus' faults."

"Christ, how do you know any of this?"

She laughed, "Mary warned me about him as soon as she spotted his interest. Apparently, he's gained a reputation as a woman chaser, and it seems he targets married women."

"Well, he better not have set his sights on you!"

"Even if he has, I think the words, smarmy, creepy and asshole apply to him equally, so he's got no chance." She mused for a moment and then continued with a wry smile. "I guess if you didn't know his reputation, he could come over as interesting and rather charming, I suppose that's why he's got the reputation he has."

"Well I don't see it, he just seems a dickhead to me."

Rebecca laughed, "That's probably the best description. While you were putting Jess down, he was trying to get me to fly back with him and give the issue a 'Woman's Touch'. I believe Roger's given him the authority to take over the company and ease the current CEO into retirement."

"Poor bastard," I muttered, the CEO hadn't stood a chance once Marcus had bent Roger's' ear.

"I need to talk to Dad; he's got these big plans about working with Roger's firms, but that means I'll have to work with 'Dickhead'! I'm not at all up for that."

"We'll both talk to Conrad; you can blame me for being unreasonable as there is no way I want you to be working with him."

She laughed, "My hero, I love you when you get so manly."

I glanced around at the deserted beach, and then reached over and pulled the zip on the back of her dress all the way down. She gave a little shiver of anticipation as I eased the dress off her shoulders and let it fall forward and then down to pool at her feet. She stood in front of me, all five feet four of my elven princess, wearing only a skimpy thong. Her breasts showed no effects of breastfeeding Jess; she still didn't need to wear a bra

Arms stretched out, she slowly turned and walked into the water. She beckoned me to follow her, I stripped down, hesitating when I got to my boxers, but then took them off as well. I followed my siren into the water and her arms.

The water was chilly, and as I caressed her soft body, I felt the goosebumps forming. She shivered and pressed herself against me, attempting to steal some of my body heat.

"Christ, it's colder than I thought," she whimpered.

"Come here; I'll keep you warm." We moved further out from the shore until only I could stand. Rebecca had her arms and legs wrapped around me. Her pussy rubbed against my growing cock causing both of us to groan in anticipation. I reached down to cup her ass cheeks. Finding she was still wearing her thong, I hooked a finger under the waistline and pulled. It tore, and the thong came away in my hand.