Before we go any further, let me describe the two women. Along with their unusual height they possessed zaftig figures, with curves that left their husbands drooling. Both had long dark hair, worn down and cut in bangs. Middle-aged Regina favored exotic clothes and always wore excessive make-up. Janet's fashion choices were equally outre, but in a more slutty style. They also favored sexy footwear, including stiletto pumps and fetish-friendly boots. So you can see how the Lowenthal men would have been affected.
Anson had completely fallen under Regina's wicked spell. She made him run and fetch for her, hand launder her lingerie, and do the housework that should have been hers. As soon as Billy was married, Janet insisted that they move in with his stepmother 'to save money'. Not only did he learn that his father had been reduced to a house slave but found himself being likewise transformed. The two of them were allowed very little clothing and had no time to themselves, other than when they were at work, earning money that they had to turn over to the women.
The stage was set. It was time for Regina and Janet to deliver their masterstroke. Or should that be MISTRESSstroke?
"Anson!" Regina yelled. "Get your worthless lazy ass in here. NOW!"
The overworked husband got up from scrubbing the kitchen floor and hurried to answer his wife's angry summons. All he was wearing was a tiny frilly apron with a big bow tied in the back. The garment didn't come down far enough to cover his small penis and left his pink bottom uncovered. He stood nervously before his domineering spouse, afraid even to ask what she wanted.
"We're having company tonight," she said. "Here's a list of additional chores for you to complete in the next two hours." As she held out the sheet of paper he was transfixed by her long fingernails, painted magenta.
Then he snapped to his senses. If visitors came, would they see him the way he was now? That idea was too much for Anson to bear. Without thinking he spoke out of turn.
"Bu... but, I've done so much work already today. And I haven't eaten since I had that little bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. An... and I..." He summoned up what little remained of his courage. "I don't want anyone else to see me like this."
Regina rose in one sinuous motion and stood looking down at him. Her red leather boots had three inch heels. He took a step back, already regretting his spontaneous words.
"So, you have too much to do? We have your idiot son helping you now, don't we? And you never had help before. So how can there be too much work for you? Unless, that is, you've slowed down, you lazy slug."
He quivered before her. The truth was that, while there were now two of them doing the housework, the women had doubled the work load, having the same jobs done two days in a row, and adding frivolous jobs like moving furniture, only to have to return it to where it had been originally. But Anson knew better than to try to explain or contradict.
"And your breakfast wasn't enough to get by on? Oatmeal is very healthy, especially when it's plain, without any sweeteners that might upset your delicate system. Remember before we got married, how you used to love eating all sorts of delicious food and drinking fine wines? That wasn't good for someone with a sensitive constitution like yours. You should be thanking me for putting you on a strict diet."
Again, he wanted to respond, to point out that his meals were all bland and there was never enough food. And that his system had been relatively good before. He had loved to eat and drink all his favorites. Now he was always hungry and yearning for something with flavor. But this too he couldn't say to her.
"Plus, you don't want anyone to see you the way I have you dressed. Did it ever strike you that you're dressed like that for a reason, stupid? You have lots to do around here and I can't have you ruining your good clothes. I had to put you on an allowance to keep you from wasting money, so now you can't afford to replace anything that gets destroyed. It's too bad if you don't want anyone to see you the way I have to. I suppose you think everyone else deserves better than I do. Well, Anson, this is just one more case of your bad attitude getting you into trouble. Now stand still."
He knew he was in for punishment now. She went to the sideboard and took out a pair of red leather gloves, opera length, and slowly, sensually, donned them. Below his apron, her husband's dick twitched. It had been so long since he had any sort of sexual release. Along with his enforced abstinence, Regina was always dressed so invitingly. Like right now, she had on that short black leather skirt, tight sleeveless top, and smoky stockings. He whimpered with need, even though he knew he was about to suffer physical abuse.
She told him, "This is going to hurt me more than it does you."
Then she drew back her hand. Anson stiffened but didn't move. She slapped him hard across the cheek and then raised her other hand, paused a beat, and smacked the opposite side of his face. Each blow rocked him but he kept his feet where they were. To move would earn him even harsher mistreatment. Unhurriedly she delivered another half dozen slaps with each hand, until his the sides of his face were blazing red and burning with pain. Tears filled his eyes and his lower lip trembled.
Regina told him firmly, "You will now do all the jobs on that list and do them perfectly. Or else. Understood, worm?"
He nodded mutely, the tears running down his sore cheeks. She pushed him out of her way and strode from the room. As terrible as his discipline had been, he found himself thinking about her figure, those exciting clothes, and her boots. His penis was now fully erect, an unimpressive four slender inches.
At the same time, in another part of the large old house, Billy was being lectured by Janet. She was scolding him for not getting her panties clean enough.
"Did you do everything like I taught you?" she asked in a tone that suggested she didn't think he had. "Did you lick the crotch of each pair to pre-soak any residue from my bodily fluids? And how about the seats? I'm sure there were skid marks. Did you put those areas into your mouth to get them nice and wet, and suck on them until all the worst stains were gone?"
He made a face. This was all new to him and he was disgusted by it. At the same time, he knew he was falling deeper and deeper into the spell cast by her body, erotic wardrobe, and controlling attitude. Billy nodded with downcast eyes.
"Yes, dear," he told her sincerely. "I was very careful."
"Hmph. I'll have to give you a little test. Maybe I should wear each pair for more than a half day. How about a full day? Or two? That would give you something to work with. Imagine having a pair of my panties that I wore that long in your mouth. Hmmmm?"
He shivered with mental discomfort but also with a strange desire. What was she doing to his mind? His penis began to get firm. He couldn't hide it because all he had on was pink leg warmers and a lace choker. His bottom was still rosy from twenty swats with a sorority paddle earlier in the day. He had made the mistake of staring too much at Janet's boots. He couldn't help himself. Just look at how she was dressed. His young bride had on a leather vest with nothing under it, micro-mini-shorts that left her asscheeks half bare, and tall, brown leather boots with square toes and tall stacked heels. He was staring at them again, he realised as she grabbed his ear and gave it a hard twist.
Marching him along as she left the room, Janet told him, "We're having company tonight and you're going to clean every bathroom in this house. To make sure you concentrate on your work, you'll use the fingernail brush I warned you that you might have to switch to. You know where all your cleaning things are," she went on as they reached the upstairs bathroom, "so get to work, you worthless lump."
She propelled him into the room and he lost his balance and fell hard on the tile floor. Trying not to cry, he crawled forward and took his tools from the cabinet under the sink. He had to work with a pink plastic bucket meant for a little girl to take to the beach, and now the tiny brush intended for no job larger job than cleaning one's fingernails. It was not only humiliating but would make the work take many times longer than it should. As he reached over the side of the claw-footed bathtub to run hot water and add soap powder to the bucket, Billy was aware of the sight his paddled ass made. He had a mental image of whoever was coming to visit seeing his backside in that state. He almost said something to his wife but had already learned how costly that could be. Instead he got the bucket full of hot soapy water and went to work, beginning around the base of the toilet.
Two hours later the father and son had finished their demanding chores. They were called to the foyer, still in the demeaning outfits they had worn to clean. It always pained them to see each other that way. But now someone else was going to view them in their absurd, emasculating and revealing garb. It was almost too much to bear yet they had no choice. The women liked that, keeping them in a carefully balanced state that allowed no escape or even any relief.
Then the antique doorknocker thumped loudly against the heavy, oak front door. Both men jumped at the sound. Regina gave Anson a swat on the rear with her hand. He looked at her with pleading eyes. She was attired now in a clinging, neon pink dress that showed off her legs and cleavage, as well as red shoes that would have been perfect on a hooker. Janet wore yellow latex shorts that molded themselves to every contour of her pelvis, including the cleft of her ass and the divided mound of her pussy. Her electric blue top was not only tight but nearly transparent, so that her nipples were plainly visible. Her feet were shod in garish shoes that were even more slutty than Regina's.
Anson got no pity from his wife. He put his hand on the doorknob, thinking not only what their visitors would think of him and his son, but how they would be impressed by his wife and daughter-in-law's trampish look. He pressed his thighs together, wishing he could hide his genitals, and pulled open the heavy door. Standing there looking amused at his foolish appearance were two tall, broad shouldered men. They were dressed casually, in slacks and sport shirts, and both had heavy beards that were buzzed down to near-stubble. Anson shrank back instinctively at the sight of those alpha males. One was around Regina's age and the other a bit older than Janet.
The nearer guest pushed past Anson and went to his wife, wrapping his strong arms around her and giving her a deep kiss. The other went straight to Janet and treated her the same way. Both women welcomed the attention and freely ran their hands over the men's bodies. Anson and Billy were shocked but remained silent. They followed the two couples into the den, watching the women's bottoms roll as they walked. Once there, the guy with Regina, who was named Jack, made drinks. The other guy, Nick, sat next to Janet on the couch and threw his arm around her shoulders. Then Jack sat next to Regina on the sofa and acted similarly familiar, setting his hand on her fleshy thigh.
"This is perfect," Regina declared. "We girls are finally going to get some proper sex."
Anson's eyes went wide. Billy's jaw dropped.
"What?" She glared at them. "You two wimps don't have what it takes to satisfy us. That's why we never even let you try. You should be glad we allow you to pleasure us with your sissy mouths."
Jack laughed. "You make these punks go down on you? Your husbands? And they don't even get laid?"
"That's right," she told him proudly. "Keeping them horny makes them better pussy lickers. But now that we've got them both trapped into marriage it's time for us to start cheating on them and have some fun." She brazenly squeezed Jack's crotch. "With you two studs."
It was Nick's turn to laugh. "And they aren't going to do a thing about it." He stared hard at the two weakling husbands. "Are you?"
Anson and Billy could only shake their heads. This was horrible. Their wives were about to commit infidelity. As poorly as the husbands were treated, they still had a strong sense of possessiveness about their spouses. After all, the women had made themselves the center of their mens' world. It would be terribly painful for Anson and Billy to have them commit adultry, which was one more reason for the women to do exactly that. They began to make out with their dates, who responded eagerly, pawing them and swapping spit. They also began undressing each other, baring more and more skin. The husbands just stood and stared with jealousy and anguish.
After lots of clothed foreplay the two couples proceeded to the women's bedrooms. Regina and Jack each took one of Anson's ears and hauled him between them. Janet and Nick kicked Billy along ahead of them. What the defeated husbands then witnessed was devestating. They had to watch their wives cater to those studs like whores trying to please their pimps. The men took advantage, demanding lots of cocksucking before they moved on to the main act. Jack got Regina on her back and had her throw her legs up over his shoulders. He shoved his eight inch cock into her without ceremony. Nick ordered Janet onto her elbows and knees so he could screw her doggy style. His thick eight went into her and, with each long stroke, nearly all of it reappeared. The husbands were distraught but could only stand and gawk at the wild action. Both of them, in spite of themselves, found themselves with their little dicks stiff and on show.
The wives mocked them, reminded them that they would never experience intercourse again, and told their lovers how superior they were in size and staying power. The sex went on for over a half hour with the women enjoying several loud animated orgasms each before the men shot their heavy loads. Anson and Billy were incapacitated by what they had seen. Both of them were at the lowest ebb they had sunk to since meeting their wives. So that was when Regina and Janet moved everyone back to the livingroom and finished off their spouses... together.
"This is the way it's going to be from now on," Regina announced. "Our studs will be over here whenever they please. We'll go out with them, too. And you two wimps will have to watch us have fantastic sex while we're here and go back to doing your maids' work when we're not. We'll make sure to wear our sexiest clothing around the house and everytime you look too hard at one of us you'll get smacked around and have your girly bottoms tanned. You have to understand, you losers, that both of us get off on cheating on you and hurting you, so this will NEVER end. Get used to it, geeks."
"That's right," seconded Janet. "We're going to have you licking our pussies morning and night. In fact, we'll have you lap them after we get pumped full of jizz by our real men." She laughed and the other three joined in. "Yeah, that'll really keep you insects in your place. And if you hesitate to do anything we tell you, you'll have to kiss our asses, and I mean deep inside. Damn, it's getting me hot again just telling you all this shit. Both of you will cry your spineless selves to sleep every night."
To seal the deal, both husbands had to crawl to their wives and, while the women locked lips with their lovers, the humbled men had to kiss their sexy shoes. Then the wives moved their hips forward until they were on the edge of the sofa and couch. Their spouses had to slurp up all the salty cum that filled their cunts and swallow every drop while the females jeered at them and said they'd be tasting sperm all the time from then on. It was, for the Lowenthal males, absolute humiliation. Both of them knew they would never be able to look their wives in the eye, speak freely to them, or assert the slightest amount of willpower around them. From that moment on Anson and Billy would be ridiculed, disciplined, demeaned, and cheated on endlessly, all the while feeling incredible lust for the wives they would never be allowed to enjoy, along with constant, blue-balled frustration.
Father and son looked at each other and wept.
I came home from work after putting in an hour of overtime. My wife Bonnie was waiting for me with a scowl on her broad face. She is nearly six feet tall and heavy, with plenty of her excess weight residing in her hips, ass and thighs. In tight jeans and a too-small top that showed off her soft belly, she was an imposing sight. Her feet were bare and dirty, long black hair oily and lank. Bonnie doesn't have a pretty face. Her eyes are small, nose fleshy, and lips very thick. She has the beginning of a double chin, too. So you can imagine what a sight she is when she's angry. Besides, she's nearly a foot taller than me. I'm slender, with small hands and feet. My features are fine. My sandy hair is already thinning, even though I'm only in my mid-20s, like my wife.
I closed the door behind me and she stood there, blocking my way and sneering down at me. "So, you like to play perverted porn games on the internet, do you?"
"What? I mean..." Oh no. I had left the computer on the night before, gone to sit in the living room, and fallen asleep. "You saw... ?"
"Your sick little fantasies. They're really interesting, wimp. You do like to be called 'wimp', don't you? Or 'loser'? I was reading your letters on the Cheating Wives site. You really go into a lot of details."
"B... but that's just fantasy. I wouldn't want any of that to really happen."
She smacked me hard across the face with her open hand and sent me staggering backward into the door. I bounced and stumbled toward her, right into a hard punch aimed at my midsection. That put me on my knees. I looked up at her pleadingly.
"Please, Bonnie. Honey. Getting hit wasn't in my letters. That's not what I want."
"No, asshole, but it's what I want. Among other things. We have company coming in about a half hour. Get out of your suit and into something that doesn't make you look like a complete idiot. We're going to be discussing your secret life with my friend Charlene. Oh, and I really like the name you use to sign your letters. Chump Hubby. That's perfect for you."
I wanted to say something, anything, in my defense, but was still too sore from being hit and too scared as well. I got shakily to my feet and went to get changed. The situation was bad and I could tell it was going to get worse. My wife's friend Charlene hated me and was always telling Bonnie I was worthless. I shuddered as I got out of my clothes. Then, standing in front of the full length mirror, I couldn't help but stare at my undersized genitals. My dick is a laughable two skinny inches soft and only expands to three skinny inches hard. Bonnie used that as an excuse to deny me sex, pointing out that I couldn't satisfy her, and to make me use my mouth on her hairy, unwashed pussy instead. She knew how much her lack of cleanliness disgusted me, and made a point to tell me things like, "I've worn these panties for two days" or "I really sweated like a pig while I was out spending your money".
Less than an hour later I was dressed in cargo shorts and a black T-shirt, trying to give the impression that I was halfway stylish. I hoped that might weigh in my favor. Then Charlene arrived. She looks a lot like my wife except bustier, and was wearing a skirt so short that it showed off her heavy legs almost to the tops of her thighs, and a snug top that made it obvious she had on no bra. Charlene gave me a look that said I was garbage in her eyes. Then she straight-armed me, nearly knocking me off my feet, and strode by. The two big women sat in the living room and my wife ordered me to get them a couple of beers. They drink some horrible cheap stuff. I mean, if they would at least try a few micro brews they might find that they liked them. But no, all they wanted was their usual, and when they got it they sent me back to the kitchen for chips and dip. Then I had to sit on a hard wooden chair, off to the side, while they enjoyed the comfort of the sofa and discussed my fate.
"I'm really sick of him," Bonnie said firmly. "All he's good for is eating my cunt. And now, finding that he has these sick dreams about me cheating on him..."
"Yeah, I know," Charlene told her. "My Eddie is just as perverted. About a month ago I walked in on him in the bathroom with the hamper open and a pair of my dirty panties in his hand. He had them over his face so he didn't even see me. And his other hand was on his little dingus, stroking it. I smacked him really hard in the back of the head and just about gave him a heart attack." They both laughed at that. "Then I made him confess that he had been wanking for over a year. He tried to say it was because I almost never had sex with him but I said it was just because he's a sick fuck."
"So what are you going to do? Leave him?"
"Hell no. I did what you should do. I gave him his screwed up fantasy but I did it until I went way past what he wanted. Now I wear my panties for three days at a time and then I make him sniff them and suck the crotches and lick the skidmarks in the seats. I have him jerk himself while I watch, which really embarrasses him..." She paused for effect. "...but I don't let the asshole finish himself. He has to walk around with blue balls all the time. And the hornier I get him, the more desperate he is to please me. That means he does all the housework, buys me shit I want, and uses his mouth on me all the time in bed. But it's never enough. I keep him dangling and run his life 24/7."
"Damn, girl, I'm getting hot just thinking of treating my chump husband like that. Did I tell you, that's the name he uses on-line. Chump Hubby. I think that's what I'll call him from now on." She turned to me with disrespect written on her unpretty face. "Yo, Chump Hubby. Drop your pants and get down on your knees."
I stood up, feeling my legs trembling. "Please, dearest. I'm so sorry. A lot of guys visit those sites. It doesn't mean..."
My voice froze as she sprang to her feet and rushed toward me. Without stopping she punched me hard in the center of the chest. I couldn't breath. Then she slammed her knee into my balls. I gagged on pain and collapsed, to lay there in a fetal ball. Bonnie rubbed the bottom of her filthy foot over my lips and nose, pressing hard enough to hurt. I finally managed to get to my knees.
"Drop the damned pants," she commanded. "NOW."
I undid my trousers and worked them down over my thighs, then lowered my jockey shorts as well. It was shameful to have Charlene see me bossed around, beaten up, and half naked, but I was too scared of more physical abuse to not obey. Then Bonnie sat back down and told me to crawl to her. This time I didn't hesitate, despite the excruciating pain between my legs. When I was in front of her on hands and knees she told me to stay that way.
Then, to Charlene, she said, "You never liked him. Why don't you give him a good hard kick in his little nuggets, too?"
With a chuckle her girlfriend got up and moved behind me. She had on black leather shoes with stacked heels and square toes. I could imagine the agony of having her launch one of those into my vulnerable testicles. I whimpered and sniffled but didn't try to avoid what was coming. She hesitated, not -- I was sure -- out of second thoughts, but probably to savor the moment -- and to let me anticipate it for those added seconds. Then she drew back her overweight leg and swung hard, striking my balls full force and making me lurch forward so that my head hit the wooden frame of the sofa. The pain was incapacitating. I could only lay there, face up, while Bonnie gave my features another going over with her unwashed feet. Then, as if nothing unusual had happened, they resumed chatting.
"What you need to do now," Charlene told my eagerly listening wife, "is to give him his cheating wife fantasy. Give him a double dose of it."
"Sounds good. I wish I could start right now."
"My brother Jake just moved back into town. He's always been hot for you and I know you like him."
"Yeah, especially since I talked to Kate and she told him about his monster cock and how he can keep it up all night long."
"Really. But she broke up with him awhile back. They're still friends and all, you know. She just wanted to get back together with Tony after he got out of jail."
"Cool. You got Jake's phone number?"
Charlene dug her cell out of her large, overstuffed shoulderbag. She had Jake on pre-set and dialed him, grinning down at me as if to show how happy she was to be destroying any hope my marriage still had. Jake answered, she told him where she was, and that Bonnie wanted to talk to him. My wife accepted the cell from her.
"Hey, Jake," she began. "My asswipe of a husband turned out to be a total perv. He gets off on the idea of me cheating on him. So that's exactly what I'm going to give him. And I figure you're the perfect stud to make it happen. If you want to party, I'll send him out to get us a bottle. Really? I feel the same about you, baby. Give me about a half hour, okay? I can't wait to get a look at that huge cock I hear you've got."
I was sickened by her crass invitation to Jake. She ordered me to get to my feet and drive to a nearby bar, to pick up whiskey at their package store. Charlene wanted vodka. They added beer, soda and snacks to the order. It would cost me all the money in my wallet, which was never much because Bonnie controlled how much of my own pay I was allowed to have. I drove off, still very sore, feeling miserable, knowing that my wife was about to commit infidelity. As low of an opinion as she had of me already, how much worse would it be after she had taken Jake to our bed. I would never be able to look at her again without thinking about it. Worst of all, it was my own fault for letting her discover my secrets. I had been excited by the idea of a wife cuckolding her spouse, but now that it was happening to me I didn't know what to think. As I drove, however, and the pain of being hit and kicked receded, I felt a strange excitement.
When I returned, Jake was just pulling up in his sleek lowslung car. He gunned the engine a few times to let everyone know that he had done whatever it is they do to make a car louder and faster. Then he got out, six feet two of swaggering, threatening toughness. I sank down in my seat. He strode over and sneered down at me.
"You're the chump?" he wanted to know.
"I... guess so," I replied, sounding as broken as I felt.
"And you went and got the booze?"
"Yes sir," I said, unconsciously trying to calm him by my submissive form of address.
"Then get it the fuck into the house. I'm thirsty."
Everything was in a box in my trunk. I labored to carry it, having trouble with the weight. When it was all in the kitchen and put away, they helped themselves to whatever they wanted. There were a few dirty items in the sink. My wife isn't much of a housekeeper. One of them was a glass that she had used the night before when she made herself a root beer float. There was residue in it, as well as water that had been sitting there all day. She took it out and handed it to me.
"There, now you've got a drink too." She took a swallow from her whiskey and ginger ale. "Or do you think you're too good to drink with us?"
"N... no," I said meekly before I took a long swallow.
They all laughed at me. Then Jake, as cruel as the other two, picked a bowl out of the sink that still had gravy and congealed fat in it. He ran some hot water into it, swished it around, made me hold out my glass, and poured the sickening remains in to fill me up again.
I nodded and said, "Thank you, Sir."
"No problem, Chumpy."
We settled into the living room, with Jake and my wife on the sofa, close together. Charlene plopped her massive ass onto the couch and patted a spot next to her, letting me know that I was to sit there. I uneasily put myself next to her, my slender thigh, bare below the shorts, against her uncovered upper leg. I was still feeling those odd sensations, unhappy that any of this was stimulating me yet somehow eager for more. My fantasies were working to make me the captive of the nasty games that were being played.
Bonnie and Jake locked lips, making no effort to hide the fact that they were sliding their tongues against each other. One of his broad hands closed over her breast and squeezed it. She rubbed the bulge in the front of his jeans and then unzipped him. I looked on in horror as she worked free his massive cock and gave it a few unhurried strokes, making it grow to its full length of eight thick inches. I mentally compared what little I had to offer.
Charlene pinched my ear hard. "Come on, hot shot. Take a swig of your drink. Then lose those stupid looking shorts. I want to have some fun, too." I swallowed half of the greasy water. Utterly humiliated by having to expose myself in front of another male, I nevertheless stood and, for the second time that day, stripped from the waist down. Bonnie pointed out my undersized dick to the guy who had now bared her tits. He said he could see why all I was able to get hot about was having someone else screw her, since I obviously couldn't handle a real woman myself. Then she giggled and lowered her head to his lap, licking his rampant cock for a full minute before demonstrating that she could deep throat the entire organ.
Charlene stood and had me peel down her panties. I could smell her feminine center, which was even more pungent than my wife's. My stomach rolled. She took a plastic baggie from her bag and stuffed the panties into it, then zip locked it, saying that she woud have fun later making her husband spend an hour with them on his tongue. She sat again, shoving her wide hips out to the edge of the couch and spreading her knees far apart, so that her brief skirt rode up and her hairy pussy was lewdly shown off. I had to kneel and kiss the insides of her fat thighs, working my way slowly higher. At the same time I could hear Bonnie encouraging Jake.
"Oh, man, that is one fucking gorgeous cock. And tasty, too." I heard her suck loudly on it, finishing with a wet pop as she let it free. "I can't wait to have it crammed all the way into my slot. My chump husband is a big zero in bed. Well, he's not even big. You saw his baby dick. He's just a zero. When I used to let him get his miniature thingy close enough to touch my twat, he went off before he could get any further. But you, baby, I know you're going to ride me hard and long. I can already feel my pussy getting stretched and how much you're going to make me cum."
Charlene made me sit up on my heels. She told the others, "He really is a freak. His little dick is standing up. He's getting off on you cheating, Bonnie."
"Good," she said. "I'll make sure he gets as much of this as he can stand. And a lot more."
That was when Charlene dragged my face against her plump hairy mound with its wet protruding labia. I got a taste of her juices and my throat constricted. It was awful but when she slapped the back of my head a few times I took her cue and began to lick and suck as if I was enjoying it. Maybe, in some weird way, I was, because my penis didn't soften one bit. She kept me at it until I have her a loud, hip-shaking climax. Then Jake announced that he and Bonnie were moving to the bedroom. My wife asked him if Charlene could bring me in and make me watch.
He answered, "Sure. It's what the shithead wants, isn't it?"
I wanted to tell them it wasn't but that wouldn't have made any difference. They entered the bedroom and Charlene dragged me in by the hair. She sat on Bonnie's make-up chair and made me stand alongside her. The happy couple got onto the bed and began foreplay in earnest. Charlene made me get undressed the rest of the way. Then she made me toy with my nipples, which only added to my unwanted stimulation. My wife was about to get violated and I was somehow getting off on it.
Bonnie threw up her legs and Jake moved in under them, so she could hook them over his shoulders. He positioned the knob of his cock against her waiting entrance and paused. She begged him to ram her and added a few more insults toward my inadequate equipment and lack of staying power. Then he buried himself inside her in one long stroke, making my wife cry out loudly with pleasure. I moaned. Charlene snickered and pinched my ass hard. Then she reached between my legs and tugged violently on my damaged balls. It hurt but I kept getting more sexually worked up. Jake pumped my wife hard and had her squirming under him. She told him she would be his slut and that he could have her anytime he wanted. He made her swear that I would never have my 'pathetic dick' inside her. There had been almost no chance of that happening anyway, but hearing her say it still gave me pangs of regret.
They set up a rhythm, thrusting at each other, until Bonnie had a noisy orgasm. Then he slowed down and, making my past efforts appear ridiculous, built her slowly to a second climax, nearly as spirited as the first. At the peak of her reaction he allowed himself to shoot. They maintained their sexual high for several prolonged moments before at last sinking into a warm afterglow. Jake slid out of her and rolled onto his back. My wife sighed deeply several times. Charlene pointed out to me that his generous load of sperm was running out of her pussy. I tried to wish away my persistent erection but it refused to wilt.
"Hey," Jake said, suddenly inspired. "We don't want all that spunk I dumped to get on the sheets. Come on, Chumpy. Get up between your sweet lay-of-a-wife's legs and put your face down there. Lick it alllll up before it gets away."
Even the women were startled by that disgusting idea. But only for a few seconds. Then it struck them how degrading it would be for me to have to lap up -- and swallow -- the mess of warm ejaculate another man had just deposited in my own wife's body. I realized it, too, and knew it would absolutely seal my fate, finalize my reduced status as less than a man, as nothing even close to a husband. I would be a source of amusement, an object of ridicule, and a target for abuse, verbal and physical, from then on. I imagined myself suffering more blows, more kicks to my groin, and who knew what else. Even as I was thinking all that, I was unresistingly putting myself into position for my humiliating task. My face was directly in front of Bonnie's well-fucked cunt. Saying goodbye to my manhood, I began to slurp up everything Jake had left and gulp it down. By the time they permitted me to stop I was at the absolute depth of degradation -- but also at the height of my shameful fantasy. They had given me more than I thought I wanted but my eager dick told us all otherwise.
That was three weeks ago. Since then Bonnie has regularly cheated with Jake. She smacks me around every day. Charlene comes to visit a lot and doesn't hesitate to hurt me as well. Jake has even gotten in a few shots, though he seems to think it's beneath him to attack such a non-man as I have become. As Charlene does to her husband, Bonnie doesn't let me finish, and it really does make me desperate to win the slightest approval from my cheating spouse. Even though I rationally know I can't undo what has been done, I also can't stop trying. It's the perfect trap.
The other night, while both women were sitting on me, nearly crushing me with their combined weight, my wife said that if I'm a 'good boy' she might let me jerk myself off in front of the three of them on my birthday (six weeks away) or our wedding anniversary (five months from now). At this point, that's the best I can hope for. What might be the worst I can expect, well, I'd rather not even think about that right now.
Kip was sitting at the dinner table, finishing his dessert, a slice of cake left over from the wedding he had attended with his wife the day before. He was thinking about the reception when she called him from the living room.
"Dear," Abby said in her clear contralto voice. "As soon as you're done out there, please come here. We need to have a chat."
He was immediately concerned. A chat about what? He mentally ran over his behavior at the reception. After a glass of champagne he danced with several of the women, holding them extra close during the slow dances. But he hadn't thought Abby noticed it. He hadn't even seen her in the reception hall for about a half hour. He popped the last forkful of cake into his mouth and, still chewing, hurried to see what she wanted.
Abby stood there, arms folded, a cool look on her face. He swallowed the cake and wiped icing from the corners of his mouth with his fingers, then had to lick his fingertips to get rid of the sticky residue. She pointed to the easy chair and he sat there, feeling dwarfed by the huge old piece of furniture. His wife stepped in front of him and, for a long moment, said nothing. Kip allowed himself to unhurriedly run his eyes over her. As always, he was entranced by his wife's grace, beauty, and sexuality.
Like him she was about 5 foot 8, though in heels she had a height advantage. Abby's thick coppery hair, worn shoulder length, with bangs, framed her patrician face. Though her features were somewhat regal -- face long, cheekbones pronounced, nose straight, chin a bit sharp -- they were dominated by her overripe mouth, lips full and expressively mobile, and at the moment colored with deep red lipstick that contrasted with her almost pale complexion.
Her body was also long, with modest breasts and hips that flared only slightly. Her legs were shapely and her feet small. At the moment she was wearing a one piece dress, light blue, with a wide black belt. She also had on flesh colored stockings and blue pumps with two inch heels. None of what she wore was calculated to arouse male attention yet her natural sensuality excited his libido even as she stood there doing nothing.
"I'm sure you noticed that I was away from the reception for a while yesterday," she noted casually. "I was with Don Foreman. He and I used to double date with my friends who got married yesterday. Don had a room in the hotel where the reception was. That's where the two of us went while you were, as several people told me later, dancing with all the ladies."
Kip had his head tilted back to watch her mouth as she spoke. It had been a year since he wedded Abby and, for him, it had been 12 wonderful months. He was thrilled to be with such an enticing female. At the same time, he knew that he was incapable of provoking from her, with his best efforts, the kind of excited reactions she got from him without even trying. Another thing he couldn't provoke from her was an orgasm, despite all that he took for himself, always quickly because she got him too excited to maintain his control. He had a bad feeling about the time she had spent yesterday with Don.
His worst fears were realized as she said, still sounding quite reasonable, "We went upstairs in the elevator. We were alone in there and shared a long deep kiss during the ride. We got out at his floor and went straight to his room. The instant the door was closed, he began to undress me. Don't look so shocked, Kip. I was totally willing. And I started unbuttoning his shirt, too. We kissed again. Your kisses are awkward and uncertain. His were assured and very definite in their intent. He held me in his arms, made me feel like he owned me. Then he stopped to get a bottle of wine he had put in the mini-fridge, uncork it, and pour us each a glass. He watched me take a sip. When I asked him why he wasn't drinking his, do you know what he said? He told me he wanted to taste it from my lips first. That's the sort of thing you have never said since I met you."
Kip couldn't break away from her penetrating gaze. "But, Abby, you shouldn't have gone there with him. I mean, we're... married."
"We are. And we will continue to be. But he can give me something that you cannot. He can make me happy in bed. I knew that from sleeping with him before I met you. And yesterday he demonstrated that he has only gotten better with time."
"You mean... The two of you...?"
She sighed. "Yes, Kip. We had sex. How long did you expect me to get by on your fumbling attempts at playing the male role? How long did you imagine I'd make do with your selfish concern only for your own satisfaction? Answer me that."
"I only... It's just that I get overexcited. I know you have needs but I'm never sure how to..."
She shook her head. "Let's finish this chat in the bedroom. Come along."
Abby turned, giving him an eyeful of her shapely backside in the well-fitted dress. As she walked away he was mesmerized by the sway of her bottom. He got up clumsily and followed. In the bedroom she told him to strip and lay on the bed on his back. Unsure of himself, he did as she said. Then she sat alongside him, still dressed.
"Look at you," she said with a tolerant smile. "You're getting excited just from this."
He asked nervously, "Is it... Is Don better because... I mean, is his -- um -- penis bigger than mine?"
"It is, dear. He has eight inches to your six. And he's quite thick. But that's not the reason. Before we got married I was with plenty of guys the same size as you. Oh, don't look so shocked. What did you think? That I stayed home and preserved my virginity? But guys with the same measurements as you got me off every time. If you and Don switched what you've got between your legs, I'm sure he could still satisfy me and you couldn't." She sighed. "It's just you, Kip. So I'm going to see Don whenever I please, probably at least twice a week, to get what I need."
"But Abby," he said with his voice quaking. "That's not..."
"Not what, Kip? Fair to you? The way things have been for the last year hasn't been fair to me. I gave you plenty of chances. I suggested that you use your mouth on me, but you think that's -- what was the word you used? -- icky." She chuckled. "So now we're going to do it my way."
She shushed him. Then she reached over to lightly tease one of his nipples. He gasped and his nascent erection grew firmer. "Now I'll talk and you'll listen," she told him gently but firmly. "On the nights that I go out with Don you'll stay here. I'll have a list of chores for you each time, so that you don't get restless with too much time on your hands. You can help me get ready. Wash my back in the shower, paint my toenails, lay out the clothes I ask for. That sort of thing. When I get back you'll do whatever I say, like get me a glass of wine. Or rub my back, which I'll probably need because Don really works me over in bed." She got a dreamy look on her face. When Kip frowned she played with his other nipple, bringing him to full erection and distracting him from what he was thinking. "Understood?"
Breathing audibly, he answered, "Yes, dear." After a pause he carefully inquired, "And will you be -- er -- using your hands on me? Like now? And... other ways?"
"You mean will I be jerking you off? No, darling, you'll be doing that for yourself. What? You don't like that, either? Well, it's the way we're going to do it from now on."
"But I could..." He swallowed with difficulty. "... could do what you said. Use my mouth on you."
"Too late for that, honey. You're lucky I'm still going to let you see me in the shower and watch me get dressed. I could forbid you to ever see me naked again. But I'm being nice. I figure it'll help you when you play with yourself."
He blushed at her choice of words. It made him feel like a naughty boy with a dirty habit. She went back to teasing the first nipple and took his wrist with her free hand, directing his fingers to his cock. When he touched himself his hips jerked.
"Get a grip on yourself," she advised.
"I'm sorry. It's just that I'm kind of shook up."
"Dear, I didn't mean calm down. I meant get a grip on your dick. Go on. Be good and do what I tell you, unless you don't want to be allowed even to do that."
He quickly took hold of his penis and, still red in the face, experimentally stroked himself, feeling utterly ashamed. Even so, it felt good.
"There. See? You can do it. I'm sure you had plenty of practice before we got hitched. Right?"
Without thinking, he nodded. "Yes. I mean..."
She snickered. "It's okay, sweetie. I didn't really doubt it. And I imagine you've even done it since we got married." She drilled him with her gaze and asked very seriously. "Haven't you?"
He cringed and lowered his eyes. "Only a few times. It's..."
"No need to explain, love. You were a part-time jerk-off then and you're going to be a full-time wanker now. Honestly, it's the best solution all around."
He felt defeated. Meekly he said, "Yes, dear." He was still stroking himself. "Should I -- uh -- do it now?"
"Oh no," she told him firmly. "In fact, you can stop. Kip?"
He moaned softly and removed his hand. "I... I'm sorry."
She had him feeling vulnerable and guilty. That pleased her. She had to suppress a grin. Look at him, buck naked, aroused, and not allowed to cover himself or get any sexual relief. She had been practical up to that point but now the new control she had over her husband was getting her wet. Her nipples were hard. She got a special thrill from what she said next.
"Kip, I'm going to limit how often you're allowed to ejaculate. You'll be able to play with your dick several times each week. I know that'll make you feel good and I don't want to be mean. But I don't want you getting into a new version of your old selfish mindset. So you can pull your pud but not squirt. Of course, I'll have to watch, just to be sure. And then, maybe once a week, or every ten days, I'll let you shoot into a wad of tissues. I think that's fair. Don't you?"
"You're going to... watch me?"
"Well, lover, you've been masturbating inside my pussy. I mean, that's what sex with you has been like. And I've certainly watched you while you did that. So yes, I'm going to be there keeping an eye on things every single time. Correct?"
"Well... okay," he said miserably. Then, a spark of hope in his voice, he wondered out loud, "Will you... touch my chest? Like you were doing earlier?"
"Play with your nipples? No, Kip, I won't. I will not be touching you at all. You're going to have to be your own partner. I'll have Don and you'll have you. And that's that."
Without any prompting from her he said, "All right."
"I know you might be concerned about my happiness," she went on, thrilled by how smoothly everything had gone. Now she wanted to add the finishing touch. "But don't worry. Don is a fantastic lover. Foreplay with him is incredible. And of course I try very hard to satisfy him as much as he does me. We just go on and on and on. Then there's the main act. He has absolute control and can keep going until I'm thoroughly satisfied. If you were one tenth that good we'd still be having sex, Kip. But you're not. You can't make me wrap my legs around you and holler. You can't do anything for me in the bedroom. But I'll be well taken care of." She smiled dreamily. "Very well taken care of."
"Y... yes, Abby."
"Right now I'm going to call Don to tell him how understanding you're being. You can stay here and rub my calves while I talk to him. We have to make plans for our first date. I don't mind you listening in. Hey, maybe you can even make suggestions -- after I'm done talking to him." She chuckled. "I'll try not to let it turn into phone sex, though with Don anything could happen."
She laughed out loud. Kip wasn't sure if she was just tickled by that idea or if she was laughing at the lowly state to which she had reduced him. Either way, his marriage was ruined. He had been un-husbanded. It was demeaning. And he would be so frustrated from not being allowed to finish -- to finish himself -- except when she decided he could. Once a week? Or every ten days? Or -- She could make it for as long as she chose. He had a frightening vision of her extending his enforced celibacy to a month at a time, all the while having him help her in the bath, assist her when she dressed, and give her rubdowns, like he was doing then to her firm calves. Naked, his penis rigid, his balls drawn up tight, he kept massaging her lower legs.
"Hello, Don?" she said into the phone. "Everything is set. We are going to have so much fun together. Why don't we start tomorrow night? Yes? Oh, that's perfect. I can't wait. You want me to wear what? That is so dirty. If I wear that to bed it's going to make me feel like your whore. So that's how I'll behave, like a complete slut who'll do anything and everything you say. Hope you can wait until then."
She snapped her fingers at Kip and indicated that he should switch to her other leg. Then she went on chatting with Don, talking about where they would go to eat and how eager she would be all through the meal to get back to his place. Kip felt worse and worse. He knew he was going to feel that way all the time from then on. And he was already distractingly horny. How much worse would that become? He dreaded to think about it.
What would his new life be like by their second anniversary? Or their fifth?
Next Belinda rubbed her smooth cheek against Cash's trousers, her eyes on me as she did it. Val and Vic, over on the sofa, began kissing.
"Hey Marty," my wife called from where she sat on the side of the bed. "Come here and untie Cash's shoes, so I don't have to do it."
I cringed inwardly but went to them and knelt. My fingers refused to cooperate, so I had to struggle to unknot both laces. While I did that, my wife lowered the Black stud's pants and shorts enough to free his cock. I turned my eyes upward and was horrified to see that, only half engorged, it was already about seven inches long. He had my full erection beat without getting all the way hard. After I finally got his shoes untied she told me to just back up on my knees a little, so she would have room to 'work'. Belinda held his above-average cock in both hands and lightly stroked it, making it swell and lengthen until it was standing up, a proud nine, thick inches. She continued to manipulate it and returned to watching me.
"See, Marty? It's not like I'm cheating on you or anything. I'm just making Cash feel good." To the Black man she said innocently, "I am making you feel good, aren't I, Cash?"
"Sure, baby. You're off to a real good start. But I don't think your big tough husband is getting the message. He still appears real jealous. You better go on to the next step, girl."
She smiled up at him, "Yes, SIR."
With that my wife stuck out her tongue and licked the underside of that huge Black cock, from his balls all the way to the bulbous head and even the slit in its tip. She did that slowly, several more times, before speaking to me again.
"What do you think, Marty? How's that jealousy doing now? You're getting kind of red in the face. What is it that's bothering you, dear? Tell me, and be specific."
"It... it's..." I shook my head in disbelief. "It's what you're doing to him. With your hands and... mouth."
"What, Marty? What am I doing? It's part of your therapy to tell me what I'm doing."
"You... you're licking his... penis."
She sighed. "That's not such a good start, Marty. Let's try something else." She capped the oversized head of his organ, closing her pretty lips tight around the shaft, and made a show of sucking him that way. When she stopped she told me, "You know what they say, husband dearest. Eating ain't cheating. Tell me what I just did."
"You got the end of his penis inside your mouth and stimulated it."
She chuckled. "Wrong. What I did was to swallow the head of his gigantic Black cock and suck on it. Now say it that way, Marty. Your therapy won't work unless you try harder."
Sickened, I repeated what she had said, in her lewd words. She made me go on like that as she tongued his heavy balls, licked his member all over, and then took half its impressive length down her throat. I had to use crude terms for everything she did, with Val making suggestions to me. I felt dizzy as I knelt there with my bride giving a whorish suck-off to Cash.
"Cash, darling," she said, "would you mind stepping out of those shoes and letting me get you out of those trousers?"
"Not at all. I'll do whatever it takes to help a married woman like you get straight with your man."
I didn't miss the irony in the way he described me. No one in that room saw me as a real man, least of all myself. She soon had him naked from the waist down, then reached up to unbutton his shirt. Next she sat on the edge of the bed so she could nibble on his washboard abs while her hands reached around to stroke his solid buttocks. She was breathing hard as he removed his shirt and hung it on a headboard post. Then my wife got on her back in the middle of the mattress and performed a horizontal striptease for him, touching herself as she squirmed out of all her clothes. He sat alongside her and enjoyed the feel of her breasts under his broad hands. Then he put the tip of an index finger against the glistening lips of her pussy and began to tease her clit. She moaned and ground her ass against the sheets. Cash smiled broadly, bent forward, and pressed his lips to hers in a long deep kiss.
When he finally sat back up she looked at me, her eyes bright, and asked, "Are you still feeling jealous, Marty? Hmmmm?"
My voice cracked as I said, "Yes, Belinda. Please, can't we go home now?"
"No, darling. I don't care how hard I have to work, I'm going to find some way to help you with your problem." She spread her legs. "I know. Cash can put that gigantic, perfect cock inside me. He won't actually screw me, Marty. It'll just be enough so you can see how watching it affects you. That way we can get a better picture of how deep your feelings are." She looked into Cash's eyes. "Would you mind doing that for us, Cash? Sliding that magnificent cock of yours all the way up inside me? Moving it around? Making me feel your heavy balls against my ass? It does't count if you don't cum. I mean, it won't really be sex if you don't finish inside me. Pleeeease?"
He laughed soundlessly. "Sure, baby. Let's just try that and see how it goes." He put himself between her thighs and aimed his weapon at her mound, eased the wide head inside, and fed her inch after inch as she gasped and shuddered. "Nice and easy," he told her. "Not really having sex."
Cash set a relaxed pace, enjoying himself, and making my wife lick her lips and flutter her eyelids as he gradually intensified her arousal. He kept it up for a quarter hour, in total control of himself and her, before he withdrew, sat up on his haunches, and said, "Now what are we going to do with this hard tool of mine? It wouldn't be healthy for me to get a case of blue balls, now would it?"
"No way," she agreed as she turned over, got to her knees, and moved around to face him. "I guess I'll just have to get my mouth busy on it again."
"Sounds good. How about if I go and wash it off?"
"No, honey. I don't want to break your mood. You've been so kind, helping us with Marty's therapy. It's okay that you've got my sex juices all over it."
"Damn, woman," he marveled. "You're like a real nasty street ho, wanting to do that."
She giggled. "You make me want to be your ho, Cash. You make me want to do whatever makes you happy. And it'll all help Marty learn to control his feelings. Everybody wins."
I didn't feel like I was winning anything at that moment. It was devastating to watch my sexy wife coming on so wantonly to that Black bull. She dipped her head and started a new round of oral worship on his massive organ. Still on my knees on the floor, I could only stare and try not to succumb to an emotional collapse.
Belinda stayed in her whorish role as she gave a blowjob that would make a hooker blush. Obviously proud of herself, she made it last and last. Finally, with only the knob of his cock in her mouth, she began stroking him up and down with one hand. Cash's head went back and he moaned loudly, on the verge of blasting. She managed to keep him on the edge for another several minutes and then he exploded inside her mouth. She had to struggle to gulp down all of his prodigious load and, when she was done, made a show of licking her lips.
Then, as if nothing had happened, the bed mates got dressed and the four of them were back to drinking and chatting. That went on for a while. No one told me to move so I didn't. I was in mild shock. Then Cash said that he, Belinda and I should go back to the bar.
He explained, "I'm thinking that somebody else wants to use that bed now."
"Damn right," Val said eagerly, her hand on Vic's crotch. They were half undressed before we left the room.
Back in the bar they had one more round. I was again relegated to paying and then keeping out of the way. To my horror, Belinda was already discussing another session of my so-called therapy.
"I like it," Cash said. "There's all different stuff we could try to test your husband. Yeah, we can give him the full treatment." He smirked at me. To my wife he said, "How about a week from now?"
"Awww, do I have to wait so long?"
"You'll appreciate it more if we give your pussy time to rest up. Get all un-stretched-out again. And, naturally, you won't be giving your man none of that. Right?"
"Absolutely not. No pussy for Marty, no matter how long his therapy takes."
I shrank up inside to hear that. Clearly, I was going to be put through the ringer and, after it was all over, might not be any better off than I was right then. Yet, no matter what I told myself to try to rebuild my broken ego, I couldn't summon even enough nerve to speak to my wife, let alone to disagree with her wicked plans. My shoulders sagged as I stood there in defeat.
Later the other couple returned, visibly sated. One more round of drinks and the three of us left, me in the back seat again. Val raved about Vic's prowess in bed and his cock, which she was thrilled to announce was almost as large as Cash's. I felt less and less in control as the women made it clear that they felt not one iota of shame. Quite the opposite. They were proud of everything they had done.
After Val dropped us off, Belinda got out of her clothes and stretched out on our bed. I stripped and laid alongside her. She rhapsodized about the fantastic experience she'd had and amused herself by teasing my nipples and rubbing her smooth thigh against my straining penis.
"There's just one problem," she said. "I didn't get to climax. So get your face between my legs and give me a perfect ending to my wonderful evening. That's right, Marty, put your tongue where your little dick is no longer allowed to go." She chortled. Then purred. "Mmmmm, that feels so good. I'm going to keep teasing you sexually and making you lap my pussy all week long. And every second that your down there, getting the world's worst case of blue balls while I have endless orgasms, I'll be thinking of our next therapy session. When you're slurping around below my waist I'm going to be imagining Cash with his monster cock halfway down my throat or shoved up inside me. We're going to go on and on trying to cure you of your terrible jealousy, month after month, and I'll go as far as I have to with Cash to get the job done. You might even force me to let him cum inside. Now stop for two seconds and thank me for how good a job I'm doing."
I groaned, desperately horny, and told her, "Thank you, Belinda. I thoroughly appreciate all that you're doing so I can over my destructive jealously. I'll go along with everything you want to try."
"That's enough," she decided. "Back to work, pussy licker. Just think, you have your mouth where, less than an hour ago, Cash had his killer cock. Oh, Marty, I may just have to make this new system permanent."
As beaten as I was feeling and as fully as she had taken to our new situation, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop her and she wouldn't want to stop herself. And Val would only reinforce the idea of keeping me on the program. It was becoming clear that this was going to be my lifestyle from now on, with no escape possible.
I hadn't seen Bob or Lucy since college. He had been the cock of the walk, strutting around flashing his money and acting like he owned the campus. She was a tall beauty, all long legs, heavy bust, and big round ass. I could still see the angelic face that was such a contrast to her debauch-able body, as well as her mane of thick red hair. Like almost every other guy I would have given my left nut for a night in her bed. We talked and even went out for coffee, but one way or another Bob and his bankbook won her. They got married right after graduation. I wasn't invited to the wedding. That's why I was so surprised, about three years later, to get a letter from her -- at least she had saved my parents' address (and they forwarded the envelope to me) -- saying that they had moved into the area and would love to have me over for a visit. I called and was thrilled to hear her seductive contralto voice.
I showed up the next night at their modest suburban home, my one good sports jacket on, a bottle of not-too-expensive wine in my hand. I rang the bell and when the door opened I got my first of many surprises. There stood Lucy in a tight top and even tighter skirt. She had put on about 20 pounds but happily it was mostly in her bust and hips. The slight sag to her chest, the love handles and saddlebags, along with the heavier thighs, somehow added to her sexiness, as if she didn't care that she was a bit overweight and wanted to flaunt her body as much as she ever had. When I took my eyes off her new, fuller figure I noticed that she even had the first signs of a future double chin. It all suggested a hedonistic lifestyle which fit perfectly with all my old fantasies about gettting it on with her.
"Hey," she said in that familiar, lust-inducing voice. "Come on in, handsome. It's so good to see you again. And don't you look just... edible."
I was caught off guard by her familiarity but managed to come back with, "You look damned fantastic yourself, Lucy. Bob's a lucky guy."
Her cheerful expression dimmed for a moment and then she turned away, giving me an eyeful of her ass, which had also benefited from her 'growth spurt'. I watched her big rump cheeks roll as she led me to the kitchen. Then she turned and held out her hand. I almost took it before I realized she just wanted the bottle of wine to put into the fridge. As I handed it over I realized that she didn't have on a bra. My cock was in paradise. She glanced approvingly at the label before putting the wine in to chill.
That's when I heard Bob, sounding querulous. "I don't think Steve's going to show. Guess I took that shower for nothing."
"Bob, he's here now. We were just getting reacquainted."
Her husband appeared in the kitchen doorway. He had on slacks that were about one size too small, and an unbuttoned shirt that revealed a spare tire of fat around his middle.
"Oh," he said, not bothering to keep disappointment out of his voice. "Uh, hi, Steve. You look like you've been working out."
"Just a few visits to the gym every week. I have to look good when I show up at board meetings," I added with a chuckle, making light of my superior physique.
"Board meetings?" Lucy echoed. "What are you, some kind of executive or something?"
"Oh," I said and shrugged. "Just a VP." Then, without thinking, I mentioned the company I worked for and both of them got big eyes. I hadn't meant to be self-aggrandizing. I quickly changed the subject to, "Nice little place you have here."
"Sure," she replied. "With the accent on the 'little'."
Bob threw her a sharp look. "Dear..."
She rolled her eyes and said sarcastically, "Yes, oh my lord and master. I won't give anything away."
He wasn't happy with that, either. Bob buttoned his shirt. Lucy said offhandedly, "Dear, why don't you run down to the liquor store and pick up something to drink. Get us a couple of options."
"I thought you were going to do that today."
"I got busy," she told him testily. "So please be nice -- for a change -- and do it." He went out the door, grumbling something that I couldn't quite catch. I asked Lucy, "Is Bob okay?"
She shrugged. "Where do you want me to start? He went to work for Larry Markman. You remember him?"
"Yeah, his family had lots of money. And real estate?"
"Among other things. Anyway, my genius husband got a job in his office but also borrowed heavily from him. Then Bob screwed up at work and nearly cost them a fortune. Larry got it straightened out but there was also a problem with all the loans. Bob squandered the money and couldn't pay it back. Right now we're struggling just to stay afloat."
"Jeez," I said. "That's really tough."
"Yeah, and all the stress has me eating and drinking so that..." She held out her arms and executed a slow twirl. "... there's more of me to love. Except that with all the pressure Bob has been falling down on the job." She fixed her gaze on me. "I could use a real man in my life, Steve."
She took three steps and was suddenly in my arms. I held her close to me and when she turned up her full lips I kissed her. It might have been one quick kiss but she opened her mouth and suddenly our tongues were doing a dance with each other. Her hand went between us and found my crotch. She rubbed me for a few seconds and I got completely hard. Lucy purred as she massaged me through the front of my pants. She rubbed her big breasts against my chest.
"Look," she said. "Larry has a long day tomorrow, trying to explain how badly he screwed up to Larry. Why don't you give me the address you're at now and I'll stop over. You know, just to chat about old times."
"Just to chat," I said amused. "Right." But I gave her the address.
We locked lips a few more times. I thought she might get down on her knees right then and use her mouth for something else, but she knew how long Bob needed to run his errand. So we parted, she went and straightened her clothes and brushed her hair, and right on cue her hubby returned. He had soon mixed himself something with lots of whiskey in it. There was also chilled wine, white, about the same quality as what I had brought, and Lucy poured two glasses for us. We moved to the living room and spent an uncomfortable hour talking about everything except Bob's financial mess. He looked uneasy and drank too much. Lucy kept crossing and recrossing her legs, giving me teasing glances of her upper thighs and hints of what lay beyond. I was certainly eager for that visit the next day.
And I wasn't disappointed. Lucy showed up with a bottle of wine (nice touch, Dear) and wasn't interested in any preliminaries. We headed straight to my bedroom and began undressing each other. Her figure was delightfully curvy, everything larger than it had been when I knew her before, and all of it to my liking. I couldn't keep my hands off her and that urge was mutual. This time she really did sink down to her knees and do things with her mouth that had me moaning and gasping. From there it was directly onto the bed for over a half hour of spirited sex. Afterwards we lay there together just savoring our satisfaction.
That was when I decided to phone Larry. I had been looking into having the company I VP'd do some business with his organization. We had a brief chat, made an appointment for the next afternoon, and then he excused himself, saying he had to ream out some imbecile who had not only screwed up and gotten into debt to him, but who had also tried to steal from him to make up for his losses. I was tempted to ask if that was Bob, though I was pretty sure he was the guilty one, but I held myself in check because I wanted to ask her first. I didn't want to do anything to put off that incredibly sexy woman whose husband I had just turned into a cuckold. So I said goodbye to Larry, told him to really hit the thief hard, and hung up.
When I updated Lucy she got a vicious look on her face. Then I explained that I was going to see Larry the next day. She got kind of dreamy and said she wished she'd married him instead. After all, he was another of the guys who had admired her in school. I said to let me talk to him and we'd see if we couldn't work everything out.
I had a great meeting with Larry. We realized that we could both do very well from having our companies work together on a large project. I went back to my boss and he was thrilled by what I proposed. He made it my project and assured me I would reap all the rewards of what he was certain would be a great success. Then I got back to Larry with the good news, plus suggested that he let me buy him a steak dinner that evening.
At the restaurant I revealed that I knew who the crook on his staff was. Then I told him how I knew. He was immediately interested in Lucy. We traded ideas on how to make the situation work out so that everyone would get what they wanted except Bob, who would get what he deserved. The solution we concocted was elegant and made us both happy.
I told Lucy the next afternoon. To avoid being charged with his theft from Larry, Bob would have to sign over all his assets to Lucy. He would also have to accept that Larry would be her 'protector' until the debts from loans and stealing were paid back. The catch was that Bob would be demoted to an inferior position and, with the small payments we came up with, would need six years to get out of hock to his boss. As a finishing touch, the couple would have to visit Larry's office together, so he could explain the deal and utterly humiliate Bob in front of his wife.
That's exactly how it happened. Rather than go to prison and become the cell block prom queen, a probability that Larry relished suggesting, Bob agreed to everything. Then, as I had told her she should do when I spoke to her, Lucy made a show of blowing up at her husband and telling him that because he had been such a bastard she was cutting him off sexually until he had settled all those money issues and that as of that moment she was free to see whoever she pleased. She thanked Larry for taking on the role of her guardian and then gave him a kiss -- long and lingering and deep, to make sure her spouse understood how matters were going to be from then on.
It was a perfect trap for Bob. He had to provide her with oral sex anytime she demanded it, something he had always found repugnant and refused to do for her. Now he was her pussyboy, on call 24/7. For his own release he was reduced to masturbating. Lucy had endless fun in reminding him that he was literally a jerk-off. Larry made sure the word leaked out at the office that he was sleeping with Bob's wife, and Bob, who had never been popular to begin with for being such an ass, became a laughingstock and was universally disrespected.
Best of all, Larry didn't mind if Lucy dated me as well. And she didn?t mind telling her broken husband that he was being cucked by both of us. Bob tried to drink away his defeat and shame but she limited the amount he was allowed to consume. He couldn't even make himself a drink without her permission. She did allow him all the sweets and junk food he craved, which led to Bob putting on 25 more pounds, most of it in his butt. She decided that he had to keep his crotch area shaved, just because she knew that would embarrass him. And she put him on a tiny allowance.
So Larry and I have both made piles of money on our deal. He gives Lucy back all the money Bob repays him, but Bob doesn't know that. Lucy is in her glory having two men lusting after her and attending to all her penetration needs. And Bob? He's celibate, except for wanking. Lucy tells me that sometimes he can't even keep it up for that. She knows because she now insists that she observe him anytime he commits 'self abuse'. He barely has any money for himself. She makes him do all the housework and has revoked his TV privleges. Instead of watching sports he spends his time cleaning the bathroom, washing dishes, and dusting. And going down on her. She especially likes that after she's been with one of us. Lucy says that getting eaten gives her a different kind of orgasm, a pleasant contrast to the eruptions we both set off. As a bonus she never bothers to wash up after one of us has pumped a load into her, so Bob has to clean up every salty drop of what we leave.
Before I got together with them, I thought Lucy was the catch of a lifetime and Bob was one lucky man. Now I know the first part of that is true, and that Larry and I have destroyed any chance of Bob every regaining the husbandly role that had been his. Both us guys buy Lucy all sorts of naughty lingerie to wear in the bedroom and she models every bit of it for her husband, just to frustrate him and leave him with blueballs. He got so upset the other day that he blurted out some nonsense about how unfair she was to him. So she cut back his jerk off sessions from one every week or ten days to one every two weeks -- or three -- or whatever she pleases. And she assures us that she's going to step up the teasing until he's cross-eyed with horniness.
So I guess there is some justice in the world. And I'm glad so much of it is being enacted on a deserving sleazebag like Bob. And that I'm still balling his wife at least twice a week.
Jim Trillin had never even hinted at his sexual fantasies to his wife Bree. He didn't want her to know how he dreamed about being dominated, teased and denied, even cuckolded. Of course he didn't because he was very uncertain about how far he would want her to go in real life. Maybe just the T&D, he told himself, and a little domestic domination. But Bree was clever. She noticed how, when they watched the movie SAVING SILVERMAN, he paid special attention to the scenes in which a guy is pushed around by his fiance, who makes him go down on her and allows him to masturbate as his only sexual relief. She picked up some other clues and decided to see what she could get him to admit.
At the same time, she had gotten back together with her old girlfriend Stacey. They had both liked the same guy, a big stud named Dave. Stacey married him and Bree somehow ended up with Jim, probably because he brought home a large paycheck and didn't give her any backtalk. But in chatting with Stacey, Bree had gotten interested in having Jim give her oral sex, something she had never bothered with. She just let him have his quick ride atop her once a week, with his tiny dick in her neatly shaved pussy, and his lack of staying power always had him finishing in less than two minutes. So that was the situation, the stage was set, when Bree put her plan into action.
When Jim got home that Friday night he was surprised and happy to find his desirable wife in a new bustier with see-through cups over her shapely breasts. The garter belt, stockings, and super-sexy shoes only added to the delightful effect. She took him by his necktie and led him to the bedroom, where she sat on the edge of the bed and seductively told him to get undressed. He hurried to obey and, by the time he was naked, his undersized pecker was half hard. She told him there was a bottle of red wine in the fridge, along with two chilled glasses. He tried to get his robe off the back of the door but she firmly told him not to. Feeling odd because he had to scoot through the house completely undressed, and a bit stimulated that she was telling him what to do, he poured the wine and returned to hand her one. Jim took a swallow just to steady himself. Wine tended to go right to his head, as his wife well knew.
As she sipped her wine she said, "Love, why don't you kneel down in front of me and give my calves a nice massage. You don't mind doing that for me, do you?"
Of course he didn't. As Jim knelt and put his hands on one stockinged leg, and stole a peek at her uncovered pussy, his hard-on grew to its full, though limited, length. Bree patted his head, as if he was an obedient pet.
"You know," she said thoughtfully, "I was thinking of something we could try to spice up our sex life. You know, when guys are horny they can become very attentive to their wives. It might be fun if we played around in bed but didn't let you finish. I thought of a perfect way to make that work. Want to try it, Jimmy?" He was kneading her firm calf as he answered shakily, "That sounds like... fun."
She handed him his wine and he drained the glass before giving it back. Then Jim returned to the pleasurable job of rubbing his wife's lovely legs. As she had intended, the alcohol lowered his resistence to her probing.
Bree said casually, "That feels so good. I might just keep you down there for an hour. I could have you do my feet, too." She parted her thighs. "And have you do something else for me as well." Her hands went out and she toyed with his ears. When he whimpered with need she knew she was on the right track. "I know you've never done it for me before, sweetheart, but why don't we try having you use your mouth on me." One of her hands went to the back of his head and gently coaxed him forward until his face was directly in front of her smooth mound. "Right there." She gave the sides of his face a squeeze between his thighs. "Start with just a kiss. A nice long kiss."
Feeling more and more excited, Jim pressed his puckered lips to her sex and placed a light kiss there. She kept her hand on the back of his head, so he didn't stop. After several minutes she told him to begin using his tongue. Then she had him push it inside. Finally, she got him to tenderly lap and suck her clitoris, which brought her close to an orgasm.
"You're making me feel soooo good, Jimmy," she approved. "Don't stop, darling. Don't you DARE to stop."
That hint of threat drove him to greater efforts and a few minutes later she experienced the only orgasm of her married life. After a long afterglow she had him get on the bed with her, on his back. Bree's soft hand went to his organ and stroked it lovingly. She fingered his little balls and then unexpectedly moved so she could lick his nipples. He gasped at the new sensation. It was incredibly exciting. She varied her teasing and kept him on edge for nearly a half hour.
"See?" she said as she suddenly stopped all at once. "That was fun for me and I could see that you really enjoyed being teased that way. You did enjoy it, didn't you?"
"I..." He took a deep breath. "Yes, I really did."
"It's fun to play games in the bedroom, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Those games are... amazing."
"I wonder what else would be fun."
"Well, you know," he said, taking the bait. "Things like telling me what to do for you, and making me wait a long time before you let me finish, and dressing really hot when we go out and -- "
He realized what he was saying. Jim had blurted out his cherished fantasies. He tensed, expecting her to react negatively. Instead, he got the opposite response.
"Oh, Jimmy, those are marvelous ideas. And they fit in with what I was saying before, about how teasing you and not letting you finish would make you pamper me in bed -- and all the time. This is going to be so much fun."
It was done. She had gotten him to admit what he dreamed of and then she sealed the deal by showing enthusiasm for HIS desires. What could he say? That he didn't want to go along with what he had told her he wanted? No, he had let himself be trapped by his own words. Now Bree was going to have some major fun, and all of it at his expense.
"Let's start right now," she went on. "We'll go out for dinner and I'll dress really sexy. You'll be so proud to show me off."
"Oh, okay," he agree uncertainly. "Sure."
"And I have the perfect thing to wear." She gave him a sly look. "Something new. You're going to love it."
That made him feel better. He did get off on seeing her in, well, anything tight or revealing, preferably both. What did she have in mind? And when had she gotten it? He remembered seeing an empty shipping envelope in the trash. And she did get those catalogs from Victoria's of Hollywood, or whatever that company was called. She sent him to get showered. His head was filled with visions of her in some moderately naughty outfit. As he stood under the shower thinking about how she had taken control in the bedroom he desperately wanted to handle his little dick but thought better of it. If they played more games later she would notice how difficult it was for him to get aroused, which always happened after he had finished.
When he was showered and had brushed his teeth he returned to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his middle. Jim was shocked at what he saw. Bree was standing there in tiny shorts, a snug top that left her midriff bare, no bra to contain her large breasts or hide her slightly visible nipples, and shoes that would have been perfect on a cheap whore. She had also piled on the cosmetics, adding to the trampish look. She had even changed her hair slightly, teasing it up and spraying it. He stood there staring.
Bree told him, "I can see you like me this way."
"Well, I'm not sure I..."
She pointed to his crotch. "No, I mean I really can see you like it."
He looked down and was startled to see that he had an erection. It must be from having her get him so excited before and not letting him finish. He didn't usually get hard that easily.
"I... um... guess you're right," he offered meekly.
"Sure," she told him. "It's not a big bump but I can still see it." She laughed happily.
He wasn't sure if her amusement was caused by roleplaying or if she was making fun of his limited endowment. Either way, he didn't have long to think about it because she strode up to him on those trashy heels and wisked away his towel. It was his own wife but somehow he was ashamed to be seen that way. She stood there with the towel in her hand, not offering it back, so he hurried over to his dresser to grab a pair of jockey shorts. When he bent slightly she flicked his naked butt with the towel. It didn't hurt much but it was another act that could be taken as disrespecting him. Jim was confused. He was also still stiff.
They went out to a place along the highway called The Blue Light. Inside it was dimly lit. There were drinkers at the bar and a few couples at the tables. Men noticed Bree in her blatantly inviting outfit. She had picked out nerdy clothes for Jim, baggy trousers, a yellow shirt, and a sweater vest, along with argyle socks and loafers with tassles on them. He felt foolish. He also felt terribly jealous with so many strange guys staring at his desirable wife. Worse, every one of them was taller and better built than him, so he didn't dare to stand up to any of them. Instead, he followed his wife to a table and sat across from her. She had picked a spot where people would pass by and be able to view her, which her husband couldn't miss them doing.
"Gee," he said uncertainly. "Maybe you shouldn't have dressed quite so... er... revealingly."
"Nonsense, Jimmy. We agreed to do it this way, didn't we? After you made the suggestion. You're not backing out now, are you? You know, with your tiny dick, it wouldn't bother me to just cut out sex altogether. Is that what you want?"
She was cool but firm. He felt panic. Of course he didn't want that. He considered himself lucky to have such a gorgeous wife and now, to have her trying to cater to her desires. At the same time, having all those male eyes on her was making him shudder.
"No, no," he insisted. "I'm sorry. You're right. It was my idea. I really appreciate you... uh... playing along. Really. You didn't overdo it. I guess I'm just a bit... jealous."
"Sure, but that's kind of sexy, too, don't you think? Having all those guys ogle me, knowing they'd love to take me to bed, imagining them slamming me with their big cocks, giving me orgasms like you've never been able to, and leaving me thoroughly satisfied. Mmmmm. It's fun... as a fantasy. Like you wanted. Right?"
He suppressed a self-incriminating groan. "Absolutely. You're a hundred percent right." Where had her remark about not having any sex come from? And those descriptions of other men -- taking her. He was shocked but, he noticed belatedly, hard again. "I'm sorry," he apologized submissively.
"That's okay. Here comes our waitress."
The server was a cute girl. She had the top buttons on her blouse undone to show her impressive cleavage and attract tips. When she saw Brees clothes she smiled at her.
"Wow, where did you get that cool outfit?" she wanted to know.
"Oh," Bree answered offhandedly. "My husband here likes to see me dress extra hot when we go out. He gets off on other guys staring at me."
The girl grinned at Jim. "Pervert," she said teasingly.
He blushed and lowered his eyes. The waitress took their orders. Unasked, Bree selected for both of them. She got herself a cocktail and allowed him only a ginger ale. Her meal was a delicious surf and turf and his non-meal was a chef's salad. After the waitress served them she stood there with a question on her face.
Bree said, "What is it, dear?"
Her tone was so welcoming that the young woman relaxed. She said curiously, "Your husband wanting to see other guys, you know, checking you out. Is that some sort of...?"
"Kinky thing?" Bree supplied. "Very much so. You wouldn't believe how horny it gets him. I think what he really wants is to see is me in bed with some incredible stud."
"Oh." The waitress fell silent. Then, thinking she might have asked too much, she said, "I'm sorry if I was..."
"No, no, dear," Bree gently corrected. "Don't apologize. It's a sign of weakness." She sipped her drink. "He's just a sick little fuck."
The girl giggled. Jim lost his cool. To his wife he said, "Bree, honestly, I don't think you should be discussing this with -- "
His wife snapped, "Jimmy, shut up. And apologize to this sweet young lady."
He lowered his eyes. "I... I'm sorry, Miss. I hope you'll excuse my outburst. Sometimes I don't think."
"Sometimes?" Bree said with a smirk. Then, to the waitress, "Thank you dear. I'm sure he'll leave a wonderful tip." She paused for effect. "Or I'll take him home and spank his sissy ass with my hand until he cries like a schoolgirl." She glared at Jim. "Won't I, Jimmy?"
He cringed but knew he had to reply. "Yes, dear. I'll leave a very large tip."
"And it will come out of your pocket money, Jimmy. I know I don't allow you much to begin with, but you'll never learn to behave if I coddle you."
His narrow shoulders slumped. "I understand. I'll try harder."
The waitress was getting into the spirit of the scene. She moved alongside him and tickled his ear. Then she leaned so close that one of her large breasts, straining at the front of her blouse, was against his shoulder. He took a nervous breath.
The waitress told him, "If I catch you looking at my body, Jimmy, I'll tell your wife. I wonder what she'd do than, sissy? Maybe swat your fanny with something a lot harder than her hand."
He responded shakily, "Y... y... yes, Ma'am."
"You'd better hope somebody doesn't give her the perfect item to use on your backside or you'll be very sorry, won't you?"
"Y... yes, M... Ma'am."
The young woman winked at Bree and then sashayed off. It took an effort for Jim not to watch her cute bottom.
The rest of the meal went smoothly, for which he was glad. Then Bree made him go under the table to check and see if there was anything on the bottom of her shoe. He didn't find anything but, of course, touching her footwear and seeing her legs up close got him aroused and flustered. Trying to get back out he managed to hit his head. When he finally reemerged the waitress was back. She was handing Bree a large wooden spoon liberated from the kitchen, to use on his ass. Jim swallowed uncomfortably. His wife made him thank the young lady for her thoughtfulness. And yes, the tip he left was huge.
That's when they moved to the bar. Bree sat her attractive ass on a barstool, positioning herself between two tall, broadshouldered men. Jim had to stand meekly behind her and reach over the intervening space to pay for her first drink. One of the guys who had spotted the way she treated her spouse at the table, leaned toward Bree.
He said, "You know, pretty lady, you shouldn't bring your nephew in here. He's not old enough to be around men and booze."
She laughed merrily and gave his forearm a squeeze. Jim froze up inside from jealous anxiety. Bree said, "I like the way you think. And the way you look. Your glass is about empty. My 'nephew' would be happy to pay for your next round."
"Sure. Anything that makes me happy, makes him happy."
"So the drink'll be from you? I guess I'm going to owe you something in return." When she gave him a smokey, encouraging look from half-lidded eyes he went on, "I think you're trying to make me feel obligated to go to bed with you."
Instead of shying away, Bree said, "Well, that 'nephew' is, unfortunately, my husband. He doesn't have the tools to do the job in our bedroom, so I need somebody with a big hammer -- the bigger the better -- to fix what's wrong."
He put his hand on her thigh, high up, and Jim almost blew a blood vessel. "I've got exactly the right equipment, baby. And my apartment's five blocks from here."
"Great," she said. "You can drive me, and 'nephew' back there'll follow in our car. Like I said, he just wants me to be happy."
Poor Jim was whimpering. The bull finished his drink, stood, and gave Bree his arm. Then he glared down at Jim and slammed his fist into the little man's midsection, doubling him forward. Bree laughed at her husband's pain, then smacked him in the side of the head. He had to follow them out and bring the car around. He watched his wife and her 'find' share a long passionate kiss at the curb before they got into the guy's big flashy car. Then, his stomach aching, his nerves on edge, he followed them and parked half a block from where they stopped. He rushed to catch up to them inside. He needn't have hurried because they were busy enjoying another liplock, this one accompanied by mutual fondling. They all got into the elevator and, with the privacy it provided, the horny couple escalated their vertical foreplay. By the time they all reached the apartment door, Jim was trembling visibly.
The big hunk turned to Jim. "Hey, go back down. Take the stairs. The exercise'll do you good and we could use a few minutes to ourselves. Go to the bar across the street and get us a bottle of their best whiskey. Tell 'em to put it on Hank's tab."
Bree rubbed his broad chest through his thin shirt. "Junior can pay for it himself. He still has some allowance money. And Jimmy, make sure you take the stairs coming back up, too."
"Sounds good," Hank agreed. He openly fondled Bree's knockers.
Jimmy scurried off to the bar. He nearly emptied his wallet of its meager reserves paying for the alcohol. Then he trudged back up the steps and to Hank's door, which was unlocked. As soon as he entered he heard his wife giggling. He followed the sound to the bedroom door and then stopped. He coughed into his hand to let them know he was back.
Bree called out, "Get in here with the bottle, errand boy."
Jim opened the door and when he saw what was happening, couldn't move. Standing by the bed, the pair were almost done undressing each other. His wife sank to her knees and slid Hank's boxer shorts down his sturdy, hairy legs. As she did that, the man's cock sprang up, half erect, already at the seven inch mark, with a thick bulbous head. She took it between her soft, small hands and raised it reverently to her puckered lips to kiss it over and over. In less than a minute she had brought it to its full length of nine inches and added to its thickness as well. Jim stood there goggle-eyed, scarcely believing how much more Hank had to offer than he did. Bree fitted her lips around the knob of his cockhead and sucked it with spirit and passion. Jim almost lost his stomach.
After a few minutes Bree reluctantly pulled her lips off the all-night-sucker and glowered at her husband. "What are you staring at, weakling? Take that bottle to the kitchen, get two glasses, put some ice in them and pour us each about three fingers. And don't measure with your skinny little fingers. Imagine you're using Hank's big thick ones."
Jim did as he was told. He returned with the drinks and found the couple on the bed, naked, Hank kneeling between Bree's outstretched legs. It was more than Jim could endure.
"P... please, B... Br... Bree," he sputtered. "Don't do this. W... we're m... m... m... married."
"Too bad," she spat back. "Because I need to get f... f... f... fucked by a real man's cock." The pair on the bed laughed at her cruel imitation of her husband's newly acquired stutter. "You can drop your pants to your ankles and then kneel on that wooden chair, facing us."
He was too crushed to say anything else, or to not obey. He undid his trousers and let them fall, then made his jockey shorts follow. With difficulty he shuffled to the chair, got himself kneeling uncomfortably on it, and angled himself so he was facing directly at the amorous couple. As he was steadying himself, so as not to fall off the chair, Hank shoved half his cock into Bree's eagerly waiting pussy. She groan loudly and grabbed his arms.
"That's incredible, Hank. Give me more. Give me all of it. I need to be filled up. That wimp husband of mine will never feel the inside of my pussy again with that ridiculous little tiddler of his." She swore loudly as the stud sank himself into her up to his heavy balls. Then he began pumping her, in no hurry, taking her on a half hour ride that left her swooning and full of his heavy load of sperm. When they were done Hank rolled to the side and lay there. On his perch, Jim was weeping. He had lost his wife and knew it. She would cheat whenever she pleased and delight not only in the pleasure it gave her, but also in the pain it caused him.
*** Two weeks later, after many more trips to Hank's apartment, Bree and Jim were at home. He was watching his favorite TV show and she was flipping through a catalog of slutty lingerie, seeking something new for her husband to pay for and her lover to rip off her body. Her cell phone rang. She had left it on top of the TV. She got up to retrieve it and intentionally stood in front of the big floor model set so Jim couldn't see his program. She also talked loud so he couldn't hear. She even leaned on the TV with her broad ass sticking straight at her spouse, a clear message about how little she cared if he had a view of the screen. Bree was talking to one of her girlfriend Stacey, who now knew about her infidelity. They were swapping competing sex stories and Bree was winning.
Finally Jim, upset by everything, unthinkingly let out his anger. He said indignantly, "Bree, can't I even watch one TV show?" When she turned and sneered at him he knew how big a mistake he had just made.
"As a matter of fact, no, you can't. As of right now you're television privileges are revoked -- for good. You'll get as much TV as you get sex, which means none." She laughed, then told her friend on the phone what she had just done. Speaking again to Jim she added, "And now that you'll have all your former TV time free, you can start doing all the housework around here. It'll keep you out from under my feet."
He got up numbly. No more TV? That had been the one form of enjoyment she still allowed him. He wouldn't even have those few hours of relaxation now. Bree plumped herself down into his vacated recliner. She used the remote to change the channel and then went back to gabbing with her friend. Jim went to the kitchen and began desultorily washing dishes. When Bree was finally done with that call she came out and told him to switch to cleaning the bathroom. And so he wouldn't get his clothes dirty, he could do all his housework in the nude. He started to say something but then thought better of it. He was beaten. Stripping down to nothing, he neatly folded his clothes and put them in the bedroom. Then he got a bucket and brush to begin the long job of scrubbing the bathroom. Just wait, Bree thought to herself, until he finds out that I'll expect him to do it over again tomorrow and every day after that.
*** The next night she got a call from Hank. After chatting awhile and saying trampy things about having sex with her lover, loud enough that Jim couldn't miss them, she ended the call. She went to her husband, who was naked, flat on his belly, using a dustmop to clean under the furniture. She told him they were going to Hank's place -- again. He only whimpered, having been ordered not to speak around her. Then he got dressed to drive her.
When they arrived at Hank's apartment Jim got an enormous shock. Waiting for them was, not Hank, but a stranger. Bree went straight up to him, threw her arms around his neck, and gave him a deep lingering kiss. Jim's knees threatened to buckle. He forgot the no-speaking rule.
"Wh... what's happening?"
His wife looked at him as if he was a complete idiot. "Hank lost a sports bet with Gary here. Hank didn't have the twenty bucks handy to pay him so Gary gets me for the night."
"B... b... but that's, um, almost p... p... prostitu... tution."
"Big fuckin' deal," Bree told him. "Hank says Gary's cock is as big as his, so what do I care what you call this, loser?"
Gary shook his head. "Honey, your poor excuse for a husband doesn't have a spine."
"Yeah, no spine and no cock. Do you mind if I make him watch us? If you do a really good job of screwing me, you might even get to see loverboy here shed real tears."
"Sounds good. Hank says you have the jerk strip before you get slammed."
"Right, and then we think up some uncomfortable place for him to be while we get it on. Last time he had to kneel on a broom handle for the whole hour we were in bed. It hurt his sissy knees like hell."
So they made Jim stand at the end of the bed and then bend until his chin was on the footboard. It was an uncomfortable position and would keep getting worse the longer he stayed that way. Bree and Gary took their time making out, getting undressed and enjoying foreplay. Gary went to the kitchen to mix them some drinks. He came back and they resumed warming each other up. Then they were on the bed and going at it like a couple of crazed teenagers. Jim had to watch them with a perfect view of Gary's thrusting cock slamming his wife's waiting pussy. They came at the same time and Gary emptied his balls into her, leaving her overflowing with his thick glistening cum.
Not until they had snuggled and Bree had told Gary over and over how fantastic he was in bed did they allow Jim to straighten up. His back locked and he had to hobble around in pain, which they thought was funny. Gary had a mean streak and he made Jim get on the bed, on his belly, between Bree's legs and lap all that oozy sperm out of her. Jim was sickened but too afraid and too cowed to not obey. He cleaned up and swallowed every salty drop. He still couldn't believe that Hank had used her to pay off a 20 dollar bet, as if she was a hooker. Worse, she had gone along with and enjoyed it.
*** After that Bree kept her husband on a short leash, berating him for the slightest mistake in his chores, denying him the simplest privledges, not even letting him eat foods he loved, and keeping him so horny that he would say or do anything to gain permission to play with himself and, if he was lucky, to finish that way -- while she ridiculed him and called him 'jerk-off'. His life was a miserable mess, with her mocking him openly, and treating him like a worthless fool.
Often, while he was scrubbing out the toilet bowl with a tiny brush or standing in the corner with his bottom spanked -- she loved to wallop his buns with that wooden spoon the waitress had given him -- and a pair of her soiled panties over his head, crotchband against his nose, he would think about how all this had started. It was hard to believe that he had harbored a few fantasies and, when his wife got him to reveal them, he had been dragged down to such a low state. Jim was a total cuckold, houseboy, and body slave. Pauperized, teased and denied, spanked, and thoroughly broken, he had nowhere to go but down.
Bree had made him go far beyond his fantasy -- and was getting him hopelessly addicted to his wretched new life. But there was one more step she intended to take.
*** When she had Jim in a particularly off-balance state, three weeks since his last ejaculation, and after she had been bedded by another of Hank's buddies, she made her move. Bree invited her friend Stacey over with her husband Dave. She was super-sexy and he was tall and handsome. Jim was serving them snacks when his wife made the announcement.
"I'm so glad we came to our agreement," she said to the couple. "It'll be like a four-person swap club. Or rather, three people and Jimmy." They all laughed at that. "I get taken to bed by Dave, which I've wanted for years, and Stacey gets her pussy licked by my wimp husband until she pops. And Stacey, make sure he gives you more than one climax. If he doesn't try hard enough you can slap his face or put him over your lap for a spanking. He acts like a naughty boy so that's how you need to treat him."
Jim stood there, dumbfounded. They were going to do all that? He would have to serve Stacey in bed? He nearly dropped his tray of cheese, crackers and salami.
"Cool," said Dave. And then to his wife, "I'll want a complete report, babe. If he gets too far out of line I might have to step in and use him for my punching bag." Then, to Bree, he admitted, "I've always wanted to get you on the sheets too, honey. Everybody gets their fun." He turned his attention to Jim. "Or almost everybody."
"No, no," Bree told him. "That's the best part. I'm training Jimmy to crave all the teasing and abuse he gets, and not being allowed to finish most of the time. I mean, look at him right now, at that tiny bump showing under his pants." She snickered. "Jimmy, let that monster of yours loose and give our guests a good laugh."
Her husband blushed deeply but did what she said. His little dick stuck out, hard and bearing a drop of clear liquid on its tip. It might leak a bit more but that was as close as he would get to finishing tonight. In fact, Bree had decided to push him for a new record, a full month without relief. And she was already thinking of how much longer she could go the next time.
"So let's do it," she said. "I get hot just thinking about cheating on my shit-for-brains spouse. And I know he'll feel right in his place while he slurps your pussy, Stacey."
"I'm sure," she said, unfastening her wrap-around skirt and letting it fall. "I worked out at the gym today and didn't bother to wash afterwards. It'll be nice and salty for him."
Jim quivered. He said sheepishly, "Thank you, Ma'am. Thank you for being so thoughtful."
They all laughed at him. Then the four paired off and headed for two bedrooms. It was going to be a long night -- especially for Jimmy, whose fantasy had gone so far beyond what he had wanted, and was now his entire life.
My wife Janis cheats on me. She doesn't do it often, doesn't make any effort to hide it from me. It's simply that when we go to a party she has a few drinks, gets into a lustful mood, and starts looking for a man to screw her. Once she finds one it's not hard for her to get him. You see, my wife is a sexpot, sexbomb, sexqueen -- whatever term you want to use. She's all big tits and wide ass, with a sweet face and long red hair. Anyway, we went to a party three weeks ago. It was typical. Let me describe it to you. The two of us arrived at eight, right on time. The get-together was at the home of a co-worker of mine. There were already two other couples there. Janis gravitated to one of the wives and began talking about recipes and TV shows, stuff like that. She was still untouched by liquor and wouldn't think of checking out the men. The next time I saw her she had a pina colada in her hand and had already loosened up some. She was lovely in a clinging black dress and matching pumps, the conservative outfit set off with a few tasteful pieces of jewelry. But when the alcohol hits, her body language changes, she seems to invite male attention. Her face alters too, her eyes more active and a smile always playing around the corners of her sensual mouth. By the time she finished her first drink several more couples had arrived, along with a few singles. Janis was eying a guy from our computer department, a new hire who was not only very smart but handsome and personable. She started her second drink and was suddenly no longer interested in chatting with any of the ladies. When the snacks were put out my wife made a point to arrive at the table at the same moment as her target. I knew him slightly. His name was Randy and he fell easily into conversation with her. Janis is 24 and I'm 28. I'd say he was a few years younger than her. Of course I felt pangs of jealousy but, knowing my wife, understood that I couldn't prevent the inevitable. Twenty minutes later they were in a corner having an intimate conversation, her fingers stroking the lapels of his sportscoat. He put his hand on hers and held the contact for several seconds. She leaned toward him and whispered something, followed by her tongue sliding across her lips. He brightened and said something back to her. Janis next told him, I knew, that she was married but that we had an 'understanding'. Yeah, I understood that she was going to spread her legs for some guy everytime we went to a party. She had told me that she couldn?t help it, didn't want to stop, and I should relax and enjoy it. When I asked her how I was supposed to do that she explained that it was a big compliment to me that other guys found her so attractive. Besides, as she loved to point out, after getting laid by a new man she became oversexed for months to follow. So I had come to accept it. After all, it did benefit me and she was never blatant about what was happening. I saw the two of them slip outside through the back door. Waiting a minute, I quietly followed to peek at them through a window. They were standing in the moonlight, kissing passionatly, his hands all over her. Then they went further, back into the deep shadows alongside the garage. I slipped outside and found an equally dark spot and squatted down, able to see but not be seen. She got his pants unzipped and his cock out. He was about average size, like me, but she couldn't keep her hands off his tool. Then she pulled up the front of her dress and he slid down her panties. She stepped out of them with one foot and left them around the other ankle, so they were out of the way but wouldn't get lost. Janis knows what she's doing. In short order he had his cock inside her and they were doing it standing up. It was exciting to watch, even though it was my wife and I was being cheated on. I'll admit that I got hard, like I have everytime this occurred, right from the first instance. As their passion mounted, so did mine, except that they got to finish -- together -- and I saved myself for later. They exchanged several more kisses and then got themselves covered up and checked each other to make sure they didn't look like they'd just -- well -- screwed their brains out standing up. I preceeded them back into the party. It hadn't been that long and I don't imagine anyone even noticed our absence or, if they did, was suspicious. Janis had one more drink during the evening but, once she had hooked up with a guy and gotten what she needed, she wasn't as interested in drinking. It was a nice party. I talked a little shop with a fellow who was on loan to our company from someone we were doing business with. It's funny but I knew he wasn't my wife's type. He was out of shape and he dominated conversations. Then people started leaving and, after about half of them were gone, we went too. At home I found myself extremely horny. No big surprise there. I had, after all, watched two people have very enthusiastic sex. And now it was my turn. Janis slipped out of her clothes in the bedroom. I followed and found her naked on her back on the bed. She looks like a nymphette at those times. I tore off my clothes and knelt between her legs. She smiled up at me. "I had a fantastic time out in their backyard tonight. That guy really pumped me. Now I'm ready for more, but slower and gentler. I'm still nice and lubed up from his cum. Do you want your dirty wife?" She got me overexcited talking like that. I pushed partway into her. "You know I do. I'm going to make you cum again." "I know." She rolled her hips. "Get busy, lover." We had terrific sex. I took my time, the way she wanted, and it was great for both of us. Ahead for me there's a lot more screwing because, like I mentioned, she stays in the mood for months after one of her party encounters. That works out perfectly this time because, by the time she slows down, there's going to be another party scheduled. At our house. Planned by me. I know I can't change the situation so I might as well enjoy it.
Wanted to let you know that the honeymoon is going great. We got to the hotel and Chuck was still upset from seeing me dance with all the cool guys at the wedding reception. He hates it that everyone of them is taller and better looking than him and, I'm sure, much better hung. Like I told everyone at my bachlorette party, I intend to run the little twerp's life from A to Z, 24/7. In fact, I've made a good start of doing exactly that.
The hotel manager, a stud in his early 40s named Rod, made a point to come over to us in the lobby and offer any 'special assistance' he could. I guess he got a clue from that fact that I'm so much taller than Chuck. It probably helped too that my groom was struggling with our two suitcases. Anyway, Rod showed us to our room and made a point of sitting on the bed and saying how comfortable it was. While Chuck was catching his breath from lugging the suitcases, I sat right next to Rod and made sure my thigh was against his. I was wearing one of my extra short skirts, the ones Chuck loves to see me in but hates to have other guys stare at. Also had on that great top you got me, the hot pink one with the scoop neckline to show off all that great cleavage I inherited from you. Of course, I didn't have a bra on under it. You should have seen how upset my new hubby got. He looked like he had been made to eat worms, like one of the girls at the reception told me they used to make him do in school. LOL.
Have to run now as we're going to lunch. I insisted that we have the meal here in the hotel because I want to run into Rod again. Judging from the bulge in his pants, he deserves that name. I'd love to see the 'rod' he's packing.
Hope you and Step-Daddy are having a good time. Are you still refusing to let him wear pants around the house? I love the way that makes him show off his pathetic little dingle-dick. And be sure to give him plenty of spankings. With his ass on display, it should always be rosy red.
More later, Jenny
Wow! Did I have a good night last night. I accused Chuck of staring at my friend Marie at the wedding reception. Not surprised he did it, since I insisted on holding off on sex all these months, 'until we're married'. The poor jerk is always horny. I guess making him go down on me and not giving him anything in return doesn't help him. LOL. Anyway, I used the fight as an excuse to not have sex. Wanted to keep the idiot waiting as long as possible. Then I had a great stroke of luck. One of the maids had told Rod she heard us fighting (well, me fighting and Chuck taking it) and he came up to check. I let him in and acted all hurt about my new husband's behavior. Rod picked up on my lead and took me in his arms to make me feel better.
Chuck flipped out! He rushed at the manager, who backhanded him, let go of me, and then shoved Chuck against the wall. Rod said Chuck had assaulted him and that the police would have to be called. He also mentioned possible charges of wife abuse. I had to struggle not to laugh. I backed up Rod and acted super-upset. Chuck got all nervous and said he'd do anything to avoid legal problems. That's when Rod took me in his arms again to be sure I was okay. I sort of melted against him and turned my face up. I told him he had saved me and insisted in rewarding him with a kiss. Just to be sure he got my message loud and clear, I ran my hands over his ass, which was really firm, and pulled him against me. I could feel Rod's rod getting stiff.
Hubby was a mess as we locked lips. I got my tongue into Rod's mouth and he gave me some of the same. Chuck was going nuts -- I peeked -- but what could he do. I asked Rod to stay awhile until I felt safe and snapped at Chuck to call room service for a bottle. The schmuck did it while I gave Rod some more of his 'reward', even rubbing my hand over his crotch. When Chuck was done on the phone I started to tell Rod everything bad I could think of or make up about my new husband. Chuck sort of shrunk at being dissed so badly. I knew I had him where I wanted him. The bottle arrived and Rod and I shared a few drinks. I didn't let Chuck have any because I said I didn't want him getting violent again.
Anyway, Rod and I had a great 'goodbye' kiss and he said he'd send us a complimentary dinner. Also said he stop by afterwards to make sure I was all right. Yeah, I'll be all right.
Your ready-to-cheat daughter, Jenny
It happened. Rod sent a beautiful dinner for me and a sandwich for Chuck. I got wet from having a superior man insult my weakling husband that way. Then Rod came to visit. I had made a point to be in just my lingerie. Chuck was soooo turned on. His little dick was probably dripping. Silly boy. As soon as Rod came in, Chuck tried to get me to put on more clothes. I made sure to upset my hubby by refusing and when he raised his voice I laid down the law. I told him his insane jealousy was too much for me and that, if he didn't let me test him, or if he failed the test, it was over for us. He was terrified. My 'test', naturally, was to make out with Rod. We sat on the edge of the bed and kissed. Then I took Rod's hand and put it right on my tit, over the see-through bra I had on. Chuck got all red in the face but he just sat there, on the chair I had told him to stay on, and endured it.
I gave Chuck a hard look and dropped the bomb on him. I told him that I was going to fuck Rod, right there in front of him, and that he wasn't going to say one word about it if he wanted to stay married. I reminded him of his failed engagement to Shirl and his slim-to-none chances of ever getting anywhere with anyone as sexy as me. He caved in and started to sniffle. It was an effort for me not to laugh. Then I started to unbutton Rod's shirt. The two of us undressed each other sloooowly, while hubby squirmed and fretted. Then we were on the bed making out like a couple of teens, Rod's huge tool a sight to behold.
After lots of foreplay the fucking started. It was glorious. The entire time I kept insulting Chuck and praising my new lover. I got properly laid and wimpy boy had to witness the entire glorious, half-hour scene. By the time we finished, loud and long, Rod and I were really, really happy. Chucky just sat there like a lump, sobbing and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. What a total loser. On the bed we kept kissing and touching each other, whispering and making plans for the next two days -- and nights.
It was perfect. Do me a favor and forward all my messages to Aunt Jayne. I know she'll appreciate this news as much as you.
Satisfied in my suite, Jenny
Dear Aunt Jayne,
I had my Mom forward you my previous messages but now I have to tell you what happened AFTER I got it on with Rod for all three days. I took Chucky, who was in a state of shock by then, to Mom's house. He calmed down a bit by the time we arrived. I think, from comments he made, that he imagined Mom would talk some sense into me. HA! You should have seen my poor hubby when the door was opened by Step Daddy. All Mom had let him wear was pink leggings, a matching posing strap that showed off how little he has between his legs, and a teeny tiny apron. Before we even went inside I made Daddy turn around and show off his well spanked backside. Chucky realized he was screwed, as far as getting any help from Mom.
Once we were in, Daddy had to serve us. White wine for Mom and me, a glass of tapwater for my 'better half'. We girls discussed how to keep our guys in line and didn't pull any punches in front of Chucky. By the time we were done and he could see how his life was going to be from then on -- no sex, all the housework, me controlling every penny, me cheating to my heart's desire (or rather my pussy's desire), him getting spanked and worse -- you could see he was beaten. There was no fight left in him.
Of course, I wanted to make it absolutely definite, so it was Chucky who had to answer the door the next time the bell rang. He nearly collapsed when he saw Rod there. We had already made plans for dinner and an overnight visit to Rod's apartment. Best of all, I left Chucky to Mom's tender mercies. LOL. I can't wait to see what's left of him tomorrow. Maybe Mom's lover will come over and Chuck'll get to see how Step Daddy reacts everytime he gets cheated on. Boo hoo hoo all over the place.
Anyway, I'm sure that between Mom and me you'll get all the updates. I can't wait for you to meet 'my insignificant other'. And by the way, Aunt Jayne, do you still like to make wimps like him lick your dirty feet and suck your toes? He's available anytime you want him.
Off to get laid, Jenny
My wife Gena had been cuckolding me for about nine months. I hated having her cheat on me with the guys she picked up but I had never been strong enough to stand up to her all during the previous three years of our marriage. My only consolation was that, when she was out man hunting and getting her booty knocked, I at least got an evening free to myself, when I could watch TV or read. It wasn't much but it was about all I had. If she didn't go out I had to be available every minute to wait on her, massage her feet, or run out on errands.
It was rough for me, not only having her cheat but being cut off from sex with her myself. I was always horny. Gena made sure I stayed that way by dressing in tight clothes or hot lingerie. She's half Italian and half Greek, with an ultra-curvy figure and hot Mediterranean temper. I wanted her all the time but didn't dare to even hint that she should let me have my pleasure. Instead she would allow me to jerk off into my morning coffee once every 10 days or two weeks and then make me drink it. That was my sex life, along with providing her with all the cunnilingus she wanted, which was plenty.
One evening she was getting ready to go out -- again. I had to run and fetch for her, taking clothes out of the closet and dresser until she found exactly what she wanted. That turned out to be a very tight top and equally close fitting slacks. Along with her 'fuck-me' shoes, the ones with the four inch heels and open toes, and her usual slutty make-up, plus her long, thick, black hair worn loose, she was a sexual fire waiting to be ignited. At last she was ready and I was already mentally lining up the shows I would watch, along with some reading time afterwards. I was actually happy, at least as much as a guy can be when his gorgeous wife is openly cheating on him, until she made her announcement.
"I'm a little hungry. Maybe I'll have a snack. Get me that jar of salsa that's been sitting in the cabinet and open it." I did as I was told but when I set it on the counter she made a disapproving face. "No, I changed my mind. But you bought that a long time ago. I don't want it to go bad. Eat it, Willy." When I stared at her uncomprehendingly she said more forcefully, "Get a friggin' spoon and EAT IT. All of it. Now. Use that spoon I had earlier, for my pudding."
I took the dirty spoon and uncertainly dipped it into the salsa, which was chunky and extra hot. In fact, it had a warning on it about how spicy it was. I ate the first spoonful and my mouth was on fire. She watched me closely as I consumed more and more. I kept waiting for her to relent and allow me to stop but she just kept watching, a twisted smile on her sensual lips, until I was done. My stomach was rolling. I had to cover my mouth as I let out a loud burp. Gena giggled.
She said, "Let's see what else we can get rid of. Open the fridge. Yeah, right there on the door is a half a jar of black olives. Eat those."
"B... but, Gena, you know I hate bl..."
I saw that she didn't care. Rather than risk one of her infuriated face-slappings, I opened them and wrinkled my nose at the unwelcome smell. Then, lifting them out with the same spoon, I ate every one and she also made me drink the juice. That was followed by a few garlic pickles, again with their juice, and finally a quarter pound of stale double-chocolate fudge. I felt ready to throw up. Gena walked over to me and patted my tummy.
"There," she said. "I've noticed how cheerful you get when I leave you alone. That's wrong. I want you to be unhappy if I'm not here. So, from now on, I'm going to make sure that everytime I go clubbing, we'll do something special before I go to keep your mind off your selfish wants. That's fair, isn't it, Willy?"
I moaned from how ill I felt. "Y... yes, dearest. I'm s... sorry if I thought too much about myself."
"No problem. Now have a fun evening. DON'T take anything for your stomach. And think about me, Willy. So long."
She sashayed to the front door and out, the well-filled bottom of her slacks wiggling. I did think about her, all evening, about how she loved to be mean to me and how I would never have one of another 'Free Night'. I kept belching and tasting bile but didn't vomit. Instead I simply grew more and more miserable. Finally, after about four hours, she returned. I could tell from her disheveled appearance that she had been thoroughly and properly fucked, just the way she likes. I'm sure she could tell from my face, which was probably some shade of green, that I was still extremely queasy.
"We're going to do one more thing to make sure that my date nights are completely about me in your mind. Bedroom time, little Willy."
Holding my stomach I followed her, again achingly aware of how desirable her ass is. She sat on the edge of the bed and had me remove her shoes while she talked on her cell phone, with her friend Sophia, about what a fantastic bedroom romp she'd had. It turned out that Sophia had slept with the same guy. Both women enjoyed playing the slut, and of course Gena loved rubbing that role in my face. I was extra uncomfortable kneeling, but she let me stay there through her long conversation. Then she set aside the phone, stood, and peeled off her slacks. There was a wet mark on the crotch of her panties, in front of her pussy, which was shaved alongside its lips but had a dark patch of hair above. My wife threw herself back on the mattress and flung her legs lewdly wide.
"The new thing we're going to do is -- " She paused for effect. " -- make you eat my cunt while it's still full of my latest stud's thick hot cum. If you know you're going to have to do that at the end of every date night, I don't imagine you'll be able to waste time with whatever it is you like to do by yourself. Not with THIS to look forward to."
I shuddered. "Gena, please. Not that. It's -- disgusting. I can't lick up another man's cream out of your pussy."
"Well, you sure can't lick up YOURS -- because you're not allowed to put your anorexic dick inside me. So get busy, wimp, and do it now if you don't want me to put my heels back on and see how hard I can kick you about twenty times."
That threat was so extreme that I did what she had ordered, disgusting as it was. My insides were already rolling, and having to do that made it three times worse. It was horrible to taste her lover's slime and feel it slide down my convulsing throat. My wife, because she had already been satisfied, took what seemed like a half hour before she came. Even then she made me lap her through a long afterglow and even plant a dozen extra kisses on her labia, thanking her aloud after each kiss.
And that's how it's been the three times since, when she goes out, with me gobbling down all the junk in the fridge, or having to wear her dirty panties over my head, with the smelly seat over my nose and a stocking over that to hold them in place. She says she has more ideas for how to keep my mind off 'wasting time'. She's making me figure a way for her to give me an enema with that same red hot salsa. I always spend my several 'free' hours anticipating with dread the new practice of slurping out the goo left in her pussy after unfaithful sex. The most recent time her pick-up date came twice inside her. She called it a 'double-helping' for me.
My stunningly desirable wife gets a thrill from tormenting me. She discovered that last meager pleasure in my life and ruined it. Now, she tells me, she is thinking very hard about what ELSE she can do to assure that I focus only on her and never squander even a minute enjoying anything for myself. She's shopping on-line for some 'toys' to use.
I dread to think what else she will do to me, the cuckolded husband she despises and gets aroused from hurting.
I guess it seems strange that I would post my story, with that title, here on a site about cheating wives. But please read it and you'll see why I'm doing it.
I met Bonnie just over a year ago and was completely turned on by her. Not only does she have a full bust and not too thick waist, but her hips are huge, her thighs well padded and -- what excited me the most -- her ass is immense, wide and jutting way out. Even her face was the type I prefer, a bit broad, with high cheekbones, dark eyes, and overly full lips. She has long thick hair, usually worn parted in the middle. All that was the good news. The bad was that, on our first date, she made it plain that when it came to sex she would give the orders and I would obey. That night we went back to her place, which wasn't especially neat or clean, and she introduced me to eating pussy, something I had always been turned off by the thought of and so had never done. Maybe I would have tried it before that, just to make some date happy, except that I hadn't gone out much and only with 'nice' girls.
So there I was, in Bonnie's bed, on her unwashed sheets, with my face pressed against her hairy snatch. She smelled kind of rank down there and I hated having to slide my tongue all over her thick pussy lips and suck her big clit, but while I was doing that I got to have my hands on those vast, smooth hips that I craved so much. Instead of sitting on the sofa with some dull girl who wanted to talk about her cats or her knitting, at least I was in having some kind of sex with a woman whose body was my idea of perfection. It would have been better if, after I gave her three wet orgasms she had done something for me in return but, like I said, Bonnie was the one calling the shots.
It went on like that for several months. She actually told me not to go home and jerk off. I guess it was obvious that that was how I was used to getting my orgasms, especially after she saw my unimpressively small penis. Once every two weeks, she would give me a hurried hand job in the bathroom, in front of the sink, and then make me wash my cum down the drain. But I was so horny all the time from being around her and seeing her in bed, that I lost my perspective and was grateful for what little reward I got for all the climaxes I gave her.
Bonnie liked to go out to cheap bars near her apartment. She told me she had gone to them a lot before she met me and was comfortable there. I pointed out that I made a good salary at the office where I worked, and we could go someplace nicer, but she didn't want to hear that. So we continued to visit the three of four same places she preferred, where she knew all the bartenders and -- unhappily for me -- plenty of big, tough-acting guys. I'm pretty short and slender, quiet and meek, so I was intimidated easily. Bonnie didn't help the situation by wearing revealing tops that showed off her deep cleavage, and tight jeans that had every male eyeing her broad round ass.
As I said, the sexual situation, one-sided though it was, kept me with her. In fact, I got deeper and deeper into needing Bonnie. She noticed that and teased me about it, making me remove her panties and then bury my face in them, sniffing the crotch and even the seat. The idea of doing that was humiliating but the reality was addicting. I'm afraid I developed something of a fetish for her lingerie, also including the pantyhose she wore when she had on one of her short skirts. She even got me hooked on her slutty shoes and high heeled boots. The end result of all that was that I wanted only to be near her, even if it meant going out and watching her get hit on by rough men, returning to her place to get her off with my mouth on her unwashed snatch, and then having to sleep naked next to her, so horny that I actually begged for her permission to sleep with my face pressed to her fat ass. I was hopelessly under her spell.
She kept me that way for a few months before announcing that we were getting married. I was stunned, happy but scared. When I said 'yes' I wasn't sure what I was getting myself into. At least I would be able to have regular sex with her once we were wed, I told myself over and over. It was a modest wedding. She had a bunch of the guys she knew there, along with many of the girls from the bars, who were all kind of trampy and all full-figured. There was a reception in the back room of one of the bars and I was unhappy at the way my new bride danced close with every one of the men. She made sure I did the same with all the women, who made a point to rub up against me and to make sure my hands were on their wide hips. It had been over two weeks since Bonnie had allowed me one of her quickie hand jobs, so by the end of the evening I was half out of my mind with sexual frustration.
We got back to her place, where we were living by then, and she had me strip. My little dick was standing up when I got into bed with her. She had removed her dress but then put on a short nightie. Her used panties were lying on the bed and she made me kneel on the mattress and rub my face in them, getting me even more aroused with her scent, the way she had conditioned me to. Then she had me kiss her between the legs. Not lick and suck her, but plant long tender kisses on her protruding labia, and even mutter tender words to her sex. It was demeaning but, at the same time, after how addicted I had become to her body, one more addition to all the excitements already driving my lust.
Then she spread her legs and had me get into the missionary position. Bonnie toyed with my nipples, something she had never done before, and it drove me to distraction. That's when she told me to put just the tip of my dick against her pussy and rub it against her. That stimulated me more than I could have imagined. Along with the way she teased my nipples it was costing me the last of my self-control. I tried to tell her I was going to pop but she shushed me, saying that she had been with dozens of guys and none of them were that easy to finish. She even mentioned that she's been with most of the guys she had danced so close to at the reception. I was shocked that she had invited her past lovers and couldn't help visualizing her under their well-muslced, heavily tattooed bodies, probably in that same bed. I was seeing that awful image in my mind and trying to restrain my need to cum when she wet her fingertips and applied them once more to my very sensitized nipples.
It was too much. With my dick barely making contact with her I shot my load. I was utterly shamed and Bonnie didn't try to hide her disappointment. There was a sticky mess on the outside of her pussy, so I was stunned when she told me to get my face down there. I offered to go and get a warm, wet washrag but she said that if she was going to get any pleasure on her wedding night, it had to be right then, before she got out of the mood. Swallowing what remained of my pride I did as I was told. With my hands on her hips, even sneaking down to press into the softness of her plush bottom, I tried not to think about the fact that I was being made to eat my own sperm while giving my new wife the only kind of satisfaction I could after having just finished. Bonnie kept me down there while she enjoyed a trio of loud orgasms. When she was at last done she rolled onto her side and said I could put my face against her ass, the way I liked to do. I couldn't deny that I had come to love being in that position so, with the taste of cum on my tongue, that's how I slept.
In the morning she had me give her a 'wake-up kiss' between her hefty buttocks. It was unpleasant because she was sweaty and smelly in there, but when she turned over and put her pudgy fingers on my crotch, I had a raging hard-on. Bonnie declared that, since I obviously liked everything that had happened the night before and what she had just made me do, she would be kind and see that I got as much more of the same as I could stand. Then she teased my nipples some more, got me to promise that I would follow her instructions exactly when it came to married sex, and finally let me go and pour her a cup of orange juice. In the kitchen I stood there, still naked, the strong flavors of her pussy and ass in my mouth and on my lips, realizing how tightly I was trapped. I had to make an effort to keep from crying. I was married and it didn't look like I was going to get the real sex I so desperatly longed for. Maybe, I told myself, after a little while, it would all work itself out. Maybe.
Instead, we resumed going to the bars. Bonnie dressed even more boldly and started to openly flirt with the men who came up and talked to her. She even had me buy drinks for them. And then, one night, my worst fear was realized. After a whispered conversation with one man, my wife of less than a month announced that she was going back to the guy's place, 'just to check out his martial arts equipment'. He was a fighting instructor, he said, and could disable a man, send him to the hospital even, with one move. He made a grab toward my balls and I fell off my barstood. As I lay there trembling, Bonnie stood over me, sneering down with absolutely no respect for the loser I was. I waited there on the filthy floor and stared up at her, entranced by her sexy body that I wasn't even allowed to possess. She told me to get up, go home and get naked, that we would 'have some fun' when she got home.
I returned to the perpetually messy apartment. Without considering how bizarre the situation was, I got out of my clothes as my wife had told me to do. Naked, I tried to clean up some of the mess, a job I spent much of my time doing. Several hours later, after midnight, she returned. Bonnie's top was crooked and her hair was mussed. Her lipstick had gotten smeared and that made her appear whorish. I became so upset that, without thinking clearly, I spoke out of turn.
"Y... you went to bed with that guy, didn't you?" I blurted out. Standing there naked, it was difficult to put any conviction behind my words.
My wife smirked at me. "Don't be silly, lover. Why would I do that? When I've got you here? You and your talented mouth. In fact, I'll prove to you that I didn't cheat. If I had just gotten screwed by that guy, would I make you go down on me? If I had just had his monster cock jammed up inside me and he had dumped his huge load -- two of them, actually -- would I make you put your mouth on my cunt and lick and suck it? Of course I wouldn't. I'd never go out and get slammed by some guy I used to sleep with and then make my loving hubby eat his gunk out of my box. I mean, that would be disgusting, wouldn't it?" When I could only stand there and stare, she repeated, with added force, "Wouldn't it?"
I nodded weakly. "Yes, Bonnie, it would."
She gave a toss of her head and said, "So let's go to bed. You can use your mouth on me as much as you want, because I don't cheat. You can be my cunt licker, like always, and I'll try to remember to let you touch my pussy with your minuscule dick or give you your usual hand job sometime soon. And hey, you're already dressed for your job."
She laughed at me and strutted off the the bedroom. I followed without complaint, unable to take my hungry eyes off her wide rolling bottom, wanted it more than ever at that moment, despite all of my dire suspicions. She made me kneel and take off her jeans, then her damp panties. Bonnie flopped back on our bed and threw her heavy legs apart lewdly. I crawled up between them and pressed my lips to her open, wet sex. As I lapped and suctioned and swallowed I tried to convince myself that she hadn't had sex, that I wasn't cleaning up that bruiser's paste. By the time I was done, quite a while later, I had somehow made myself believe that was true. Maybe I was in some form of extreme denial but that's what I made myself believe.
After she was thoroughly satisfied, Bonnie rolled onto her tummy, the bottom I desired so irrationally on display.
She told me, as if reading my thoughts, "I know how much you loooove my ass, husband dearest. So, just to show you I'm not mad at you for your stupid suspicions, I'm going to let you kiss it the way you always like to. And, because I'm in a really good mood tonight -- for some reason -- I'm going to let you cram your face waaaay down in there and kiss my asshole. You can give it deep, DEEP kisses, until I tell you to stop. Get busy -- dear."
I knelt between her full thighs and bent my head to the task, got my face wedged firmly between the hills of her ass, and began kissing her pucker. Despite myself, I grew yearningly aroused. When my tongue went into her tight passage I nearly came. What had she done to me? After I had been performing the degrading act for about ten minutes and it was obvious I wasn't going to rebel, that in fact I wasn't able to, and even that I needed to do it as much as I needed to be my bride's body slave in so many other ways, she spoke.
"From now on," she began, "anytime I want to go home with a guy, just for a drink or to talk, that's what I'm going to do. You'll come back here, get out of your clothes, and do a little housework. I'll come back later, and you'll do for me what you did tonight. You'll eat my cunt everytime I come back from a -- visit -- to prove to you that I don't cheat. You won't be eating some guy's spunk, just like you weren't doing that tonight. And if you do a good job of being my pussy lick-up boy, I'll let you have your special fun and screw my ass -- with your tongue. That's the way it's going to be from now on, loverboy. Did you get all that? Don't stop eating my ass, just nod. That's right.
She wriggled her gigantic rump against my features and giggled. Then she went on, "And one other thing. A wife shouldn't have to give her husband hand jobs. So, starting now, you'll have to jerk yourself off. It'll only be when I say so, and always with me watching. I don't want to be mean, so I'll think up ways to make it fun for you, you little pervert, like letting you suck on the skid marks in the seat of my dirty panties while you whack yourself. Mmmmm, won't that be delightful for a kinky little freak like you? WON'T IT?"
I nodded again from the depths of her ass. Bonnie chortled at my complete submission. She gave my head a squeeze with her ass cheeks and then told me to stop. I obediently got alongside her, my shrimpy dick rigid and my balls aching, and waited. She decided to have me sleep with my face as her foot warmer, so I had to turn around and get my nose and mouth against her unclean soles and heels. Still I didn't lose my erection. She had exactly how she wanted me.
In the months since then, that's been my new life. She says that, if I get to touch her pussy with the tip of my dick anymore, it'll only be on my birthday and our anniversary. I'm a total body slave to my overweight, demanding wife. We go out to those same bars and she always ends up with some brute of a guy. They go to his place to 'talk' and I return home to strip and do my chores, which there are no end of. Then Bonnie comes home and we play out what I've come to understand is her favorite scene. She parts her legs and I have to eat her cunt, never daring to even suggest that she has just been in some man's bed and that she's full of his recently spurted, always plentiful, goop. As I'm licking and swallowing, my erection never softens, especially because lately she hasn't let me wank myself more than once every three weeks or so, and always while doing something that turns me off and that also reinforces my lowly status in our marriage, like having to scrape dead skin off the backs of her heels with my teeth and consume it to earn the privilege of squirting into my free hand and then lapping up my own sperm.
Sometimes, afterwards, Bonnie will make me stand there while she quizzes me.
"Why do I treat you this way?" she might ask.
"Because I'm a complete perv and I want it. I deserve it."
"That's right. And why don't I let you cum any more often than every three weeks?"
"Because after I empty my little balls I get selfish and don't do as good a job of eating your cunt... and your ass."
"Good boy. Another right answer. And why do you always have to go down on me after I come home from going to a real man's apartment for a few hours?"
"Because you would never make me put my mouth on your pussy if you had just had sex with him, and you don't want me to ever think you'd do that, so I have to eat you out after every -- time -- because it proves that you haven't cheated on me. And I know that MY WIFE DOESN'T CHEAT."