3 comments/  49559 views/  20 favorites

Cuckquean

By: sirsemega



Do you know what a cuckquean is?

A woman whose husband has sex with other women.

There is an unspoken kink out there for a woman, something even more taboo than anal sex. More taboo than being a slut. The kink of getting off knowing your husband is having sex with another woman. Now there are a lot of definitions regarding this term, and I could split hairs on this all night long, but for this post, let's just look at the woman who gets off on the excitement, the uncertainty and the humiliation of her husband, her "man", taking sexual pleasure elsewhere, and her powerless to her own base urges to allow this to happen.

Picture a man, home getting ready to go out. His wife, submissive, watching him in the bedroom. She is sitting on the bed on the corner as he changes from his work clothes, which are dirty and sweaty, to a nice pair of dark slacks, a midnight button up shirt, that she freshly ironed and starched that afternoon, and some dark leather buckled loafers.

She notices that his shoes have a few more buckles, and are shiny chrome; Just a hint out of place for the rest of his outfit. She is silent as she watches him splash some aftershave on his rough cheeks. He doesn't shave when he goes out, preferring the rough look, and the ladies prefer it too!

Her mind is a turmoil of emotions and thoughts. What quick glimpses of his body that she catches made her crotch itch. She can smell his scent on his work clothes, and she wonders how easy it would be to orgasm if he would just stop what he was doing at that very moment and push her down on the bed and take her rough and quick. His stubble would scratch her face as he laid his lips upon hers, preventing her from protesting. She imagined it would take only a minute before his actions and heat would take her over the edge.

"Tie, or no tie?" his words are short and curt and interrupt her fantasy. He holds out a tie that she knows has a stain on it. If he were to wear it, all the woman would notice, and perhaps that would turn them away from him tonight.

"No tie. That one has a stain on it anyway," she says. In her mind she mentally kicks herself.

He is almost done; ready to go. She follows him to the door, and he turns to her and takes her in while she does the same.

"Wish me luck!" he is such a bastard, and her heart leaps into her throat.

"L-l-l-luck..." she says, and he gives a knowing smile to her. He knows. He knows how this turns her on. He reaches to her crotch and is able to shift a finger inside her with ease. She gasps and almost climaxes right there in the entry way. The door closes and he is gone.

To where? To who? The questions invade her mind as she is powerless to stop them and braces herself against the wall. The bitch! Whoever it is that will share his bed tonight is the bitch. Will the bitch be better than her? Can she make her husband cum better than his wife? Could she steal him away from her? Maybe the bitch will come back here with him. Will I have to watch as she sneers at me while they fuck? Will he fuck her good? Of course 

he will. 

She comes to her senses and realizes that her hand is shoved up her pussy. Juice is everywhere. She is almost there, and realizes that she doesn't have permission to cum from her husband. He never gave it to her before he left.

It would be easy to cheat. He would never know.

But she would know. She would be cheating. 

Perhaps if she fucks him well he will be in a good mood and will let her cum when he returns back to her. She will have to ask. Correction, she will have to beg. She always does.

She feels her hand wander back down to her crotch. She starts to repeat the cycle again, touching herself to the brink and backing off. She has gotten very good at that over the months.

Her mind wanders. What if when she begs to be let to cum, he asks the bitch to decide. She pictures the two of them on her bed, in her bedroom, naked, bodies slick with exertion, wrapped around each other, looking down on her as she pleads her case. The bitch smiles an evil smile at her and shakes her head no!

She shrieks and yanks her hand away from her pussy just in time. She doesn't climax, and her legs give out, dropping her shaking and panting body to her knees on the hardwood floor of the entryway. Once her breathing is under control, she gets up and tries to tidy the living room, but her mind and heart isn't into it. There are too many questions flying around in her head. She glances at the wall clock and curses as she realizes that her husband has been gone for only ten minutes.

Only another four hours before she could expect him to come home. She doesn't know how she will last. But she always does.

CuckQuean - Anita, the Insufficient



This is my fantasy. Some of you probably won't like it. I don't care much. If you do have fantasies like mine, I hope you enjoy this one. Thanks to my editor and muse, who was relentless in his attacks on my earliest efforts. I take back some of those nasty names.

-,-'-{{@

I watched my David remove his jacket at the door, hanging it neatly on a hangar. He turned his briefcase on its side, and placed it on the small table in the entryway, centered. Only then did he look up, his eyes scanning the entrance. They landed on me, sitting in the living room, and lit up.

"How's the love of my life?" he asked, and I felt the small chill I always got when he said that. Still. After seven years.

"Missing her handsome man," I responded, standing, waiting for my hug. Itching for that feeling I get when his arms embraced me, surrounding me completely, pressing my body to his. Smelling him, that incredible scent. The only man I knew that didn't wear aftershave or antiperspirant. That would be a shame, hiding his essence. So much better that he kept himself clean, even using unscented soap, covering up nothing. 

His long confident stride brought him to me in only a few paces, and I opened my arms to him, wrapping them around his hard body, inhaling deeply. I felt a tingle down below. You know the one, that little itch, that said for tonight, I was his for the asking. He was going to get lucky.

I felt the soft tug at the nape of my neck, tilting my head back so he could kiss me. His warm lips descending on mine. His breath minty fresh. I had learned that secret years ago. In an instant, I was reliving that day, all my senses combining to overwhelm me.

- ( . Y . ) - 

I'd seen him looking in his car mirror adjusting his hair, and popping the tiny mints into his mouth, before entering the house. For a moment a spike of jealousy had hit me, then the total devastation that came with knowing I wasn't enough for him. He'd found me crying in the study.

"Who is she?" I'd sobbed, all those years ago.

"Who is who, Anita? What's wrong?"

I should have looked at him, seen the concern in his eyes, listened to his voice. It was all there to see. He was mine, totally, without limit or reservation. He had never given me any reason to believe otherwise. Still, I'd cried.

"I SAW you!" I shrieked. "Fixing your hair, wiping your face, taking a mint to hide the evidence. Who is she?"

Some men might have laughed at me. Others would have been pissed off. Not my David. He lifted me easily in his powerful arms, and held me in his lap. "Her name is Anita. I've loved her all my adult life. I never want to come home to her with onions on my breath from lunch. I want to look my best for her, so I always check myself in the mirror before entering our home. Her name is Anita. She's the only woman in my life, now and forever."

I knew it was true. I felt shame for doubting him. I clung to his neck as he carried me up the stairs, my face buried in his chest. I was still crying, unable to stop. I don't know why. It was idiotic.

No that's a lie. I did know why I felt that jealousy, and it was no fault of my husband's. David is an Adonis. Six feet three inches tall, one hundred ninety-eight pounds. Never under one ninety-five, never over two hundred. His 'V' shaped torso, broad shoulders, and powerful arms broadcast his manliness. His movie star good looks were head-turning. He was not a pretty boy, not by any means. He was dark, brooding, with deep set eyes, and brown wavy hair he struggled to keep tame. Sharp features, chiseled. More Sean Connery than Brad Pitt.

His presence was commanding, his confidence overwhelming. When he walked into a room, heads turned. Women sighed, their eyes following his trail. They would flock to him, insipid little things, reaching out to touch him, his arms, shoulders, playing with their hair, laughing at his jokes, hanging on his every word. All for nothing, because he was mine. And everybody knew it.

That day he'd taken me to our bedroom, wiped my tears away with his kisses, undressed my body, slowly, teasingly, worshiping me. He'd taken me as only he can, playing me like a maestro, making me cry for him, tremble, scream, moan, and ultimately come for him, over and over. He pumped his creamy essence into me four times that night, letting his passion and love reassure me. 

I had lain there, exhausted, helpless, while he wiped me down with a warm washcloth, before pulling me into his arms. "Never doubt my love for you, Anita. YOU are my one true love. Nothing I've ever felt comes close. I never want you to feel jealous. No matter how many women I meet, how many throw themselves at me, there's only one true love for me, now and forever. You have to believe that. You have to, Anita. I couldn't take it if you doubted me. Not you."

I felt a trembling in his body, and my heart shattered into a million pieces. My idiocy, my unfounded jealousy, the way I jumped to the most asinine conclusion had wounded my man. My man!

"No David, I don't doubt you. I'm sorry I behaved as I did. I was watching a stupid movie, and I think I let it get to me. There are so many failed marriages all around us. The Beales down the street, they're separating. The Wardens are fighting again over weekend custody. Dan Vargas is cheating with his secretary. I know it's silly, but I get nervous sometimes, without cause. You are the perfect husband, and I know it. You deserve better than me, and better than my behavior. I'm sorry."

His large hands stroked my skin, and I cuddled into him. His lips traversing my flesh, he whispered his love for me, his innocent touches suddenly less innocent. I reached down and felt his over-sized hardness, large, like everything about him. I moaned as he slid inside me, stretching me. He was like this sometimes, insatiable. I knew I'd be sore for days, unavailable to him for most of the week until I recovered. It was worth it. Always.

That night he calmed my fears, and I hadn't had an outburst like that in years. I trusted him utterly, completely. He'd never given me any reason not to.

- ( . Y . ) - 

Now I was in his arms again, my senses overwhelmed. I'm sure I whimpered when he released me. He would change now. That was what he did. He'd carry his jacket upstairs. Turn on the shower. Hang up his suit pants on the press. Remove his tie, and place it back on the tie-rack, in the single vacant opening. Remove his dress shirt, folding it once in each direction before placing it in the dry-cleaning container. Peel off his V-neck undershirt, step out of his silk boxers. Deposit those in the laundry basket, before stepping under the shower-head for a quick rinse. He wouldn't shampoo his hair, all he did was wash away the grime of the day, a couple of minutes at most, before stepping out of the glass booth, refreshed and perfect.

I watched him as I often did, getting his towel for him and placing it at the ready, picking out a pair of jeans to wear, and a casual shirt. Placing his shoes on the shoe rack. 

He'd often talk of his day, new accounts, upcoming events, meetings, travel. Too much travel for my taste. I hated every minute he was away, but it was rarely more than two or three nights, every couple of weeks. Mostly to boring places that had me feeling pity for him. I'm sure the places aren't really boring but they held no allure for me. Cleveland, Cincinnati, Baltimore, St. Louis, Charleston, San Antonio, Albany, Pittsburgh, Denver, Sacramento, Phoenix, the list was endless. 

Seeing his body, I felt that itch again. I opened my chest of drawers, pulling out my naughty shorts. Tight, too tight, displaying every curve that otherwise stayed hidden. I peeled off my shirt and bra, searching in the drawer until I found what I wanted. I pulled it over my body, adjusting my breasts, pushing up and in, making sure my cleavage was displayed for him. I pulled the clip out of my hair, shaking my hair out, letting it hang free, nearly shoulder length now. I responded to his comments with non-committal little phrases, only half-aware of what he was saying. 

David stepped out of the shower, and my eyes traversed his hard body. He was drying his 

hair with the towel, his words muffled. He shook his hair free, his wild curls bouncing. He looked up at me, perched on the side of our bed, and he smiled. My heart beat faster as I saw his instant reaction to me, his cock hardening. Where it had been hanging down, maybe four or five inches long, it was now thickening, filling in anticipation, rising for me. 

He threw the towel to the side, carelessly, so unlike him. I understood. I did this to him. Drove everything else from his mind. Seven years, and still I did that. 

Before he left the bathroom, his hard cock was leading the way, a divining rod pointing straight toward me. I posed for him, leaning back on one arm, legs crossed coquettishly, one calf waving in the air. My head was cocked to one side, a knowing smile flirting with my lips. One finger curled a strand of my hair endlessly.

He stopped just in front of me, that rod of flesh glistening. I sat up, smiling at him, my hand reaching forth to touch him lightly. "You were saying something about travel?" I teased.

"Anita," he groaned, as my hand wrapped around his shaft, fingers curling toward my opposing thumb, with no chance at all of meeting. Not when he was like this.

It had been a few days since I'd allowed him to have me. I don't know why I did that. I wanted him, damn near as much as he wanted me, but it was all I had. The one way of maintaining a modicum of control. Last night it had been a headache. The night before indigestion, that one mostly real. But not tonight. Tonight he'd get what he wanted. What we both wanted.

Well, most of what he wanted. Holding his cock in front of my face, I knew what he truly desired, but that was a rare reward. Not some spur of the moment thing. I teased him of course, bringing my face close, letting my warm breath caress the swollen head. I brushed my cheek against him, one side, then the other, my lips pressing against him fleetingly. I felt his hardness pulse in my hand, pulling upward. 

"See something you like, big guy?" I teased. I did a little shimmy, my unencumbered breasts shaking side to side.

It was too much, too much teasing. David had his limits, and I'd crossed them. With an animalistic growl, he grabbed my hips, pulling them upward, tilting me back on the bed. He didn't bother to unsnap my shorts, grabbing them at the top and yanking them downward. I felt my skin compressing, something had to give as they struggled to get past my ample ass cheeks, and then they were flying across the room. I was naked from the waist down, available. 

There was no foreplay, no gentle teasing. I'd pushed too hard. To be honest, it was often like this. He would approach me most of the time indicating his desire, touching me in a way that showed me his need. When I took the lead, he quickly lost control.  

As he did now. His powerful hands grasped the insides of my thighs firmly, opening me. I knew there was a good chance that in his need he'd bruise me. My skin was fair and tender, and when he was rough, he left marks. I would wear them with pride, evidence of my ability to drive him mad.

With my legs spread wide for him, he grasped his shaft in his hand, stroking his cock a couple of times before pressing it against my opening. I needed no further preparation, I wanted him as badly as he needed me. I moaned involuntarily, as he entered me. He pressed forward, unrelenting, pushing deeper, until he was leaning over me, his presence blocking out the overhead lights, his muscular arms bracketing my head, trapping me. He grunted fiercely, and buried most of his length in me, uncomfortable at first as my body struggled to accommodate him, the momentary pain slowly dissipating as he stroked his shaft into me, slowly, purposefully.

I had tried to speak with him in the past, when he was like this, to no avail. He was barely human, not much more than instinct and need. I could ask him to slow down, to take it easy, but the words never broke through. Not when he was like this. I bit my lower lip, swallowing my moans, as his pace increased, stretching me, filling me.

My moans of pleasure, the little grunts of passion, would only drive him crazy. I stifled those, holding back, trying to keep him in check. For a few minutes at least, until I had adapted. I struggled to stop from touching him, caressing him. Not yet. It was too soon. And too dangerous.

The first moan of mine set him off. I tried to hold it back, but seeing him like that, demanding, powerful, a force of nature, thwarted my efforts. That first moan was followed by a series of uncontrollable grunts, as he changed his actions, his steady strokes now a series of hammering thrusts, driving me into the mattress, bouncing my legs around, my tits shaking. A beastly growl started deep in his chest, as one hand grabbed my shoulder, holding me in place as he pounded me mercilessly. I couldn't stop my hands from seeking him out, tracing the muscles in his arms, feeling the firmness of his pecs, traveling downward, past his smooth sides, reaching behind him and feeling the rock hard glutes tensing as he drove into me.

Digging my fingernails into his ass, I pulled him into me, foolishly. That was when I lost him. He went wild, his hips a blur as he had his way with me. I was his, unable to resist him, unwilling to. My body was on fire as he filled me for the first time, crying out when he slammed his rod into my velvet depths, pumping me full of his seed. The pause was only momentary as he flipped me over like a rag-doll, lifting my hips to where he wanted them, adjusting my knees to his preferred position, and then entering me, as hard as when he'd started. I caught my breath, knowing this was my one opportunity before he lost control again. 

After that I was barely sentient, coming for him when he wanted me too, unable to deny him. He fucked me. Fucked me like he owned me. No loving caresses, no words of adoration. I'd initiated this, and he'd taken over. He put me through my paces, moving me around at will, on my side, on my back, on my knees, torso up, my tits in his greedy hands, shoulders down, pushed into the bed, while he drove into me with a fierceness that made me tremble. 

I felt his fingers tracing across my forbidden back door, and maintained enough clarity to brush them away. That wasn't going to happen. As big as he was, he'd tear me open. We'd tried that once, on our honeymoon. My way of letting my man know I was his, totally. Never again I swore. I couldn't sit comfortably for three days.

When I pushed his hand away, he grabbed my hips with a growl and hammered me into submission. My entire body shook with his thrusts, and I cursed him when his thick finger sank into my anus. I fought him then, pulling away, "No, David!" I snapped.

I looked into his face, fearful for a moment, having denied him. I saw the need, the fierceness, the beast within. Then, like a balloon popping it was gone, shame replacing it. It hurt me to see that look, and I moved forward, grasping his cock, pulling him onto me, guiding him back home where he belonged. "I can't baby," I reminded him gently. "You're too big. I'm sorry. Just love me, alright?"

He moved inside of me, gentle, hesitant, and I felt a shame of my own for denying him. He gave me everything, and I refused him this. At the height of his passion, I'd denied him. I reached up to stroke his cheek, whispering my love.

"I'm sorry, baby," he muttered. "I forget. I just want all of you, everything, no holding back."

I smiled for him, letting him know I understood. "I wish I could, my love. When you're like that it drives me crazy. Forgive me?"

His body settled onto mine, his lips tracing my face before covering mine. "No forgiveness necessary. I love you, Anita. I need you. Like food, like water, like sunshine."

His hips moved slowly, up and down, his cock driving inward easily, filling me repeatedly. I wrapped my arms around him, kissing his shoulder, driving my hips back against his thrusts, offering him what I could. His motions sped up, as he whispered my name, each utterance making my heart swell. "David, my David," I gasped, my desire overwhelming as I surrendered.

I came for him, an eternal, unending, overwhelming loss of consciousness. The world reduced to our connection, the pulses flowing in waves through my body, as I relinquished my hold on reality. I felt him stiffen, crying out, while he filled me once again. "David!" I cried, screaming my lover's name, while he turned me inside out.

He held me, calming me, his lips soothing, his rough hands soft for the moment caressing me until I returned to earth. I looked up and he was smiling at me. That amazing smile of his, his perfect teeth gleaming, his eyes bright and full of joy, the little crows feet at the corners of his eyes displaying his affection and love.

"You back?" he teased.

"Some day you're going to kill me," I whispered, the words only half jest.

He held me, and I cuddled into him. "Dinner?" he asked.

"I thawed pork chops. It'll only take a few minutes."

"How about we go out?"

I giggled. "You always like to show me off, once you have me glowing like this."

His lips met mine, his tongue a teasing little demon. "You're right. I do. Texas de Brazil?"

"The unlimited beef bonanza? Need to get your strength back?"

"All I truly need I have in my arms now," he whispered.

And I knew it was true. As much as I knew anything in the world. The man loved me. And what I felt for him, far exceeded mere love.

- ( . Y . ) - 

Dinner was a playful affair, while I was once more astounded at how much beef one human could consume, while maintaining that hard body. He had brought up his travel again, which I'd missed during my needful preparations earlier.

"New York?" I asked. Probably Albany again, or maybe Buffalo.

"The Big Apple. It's a huge deal, potentially. I'm hoping I can crack this account. The up-side is mind-boggling."

Manhattan? Broadway? Times-Square? Fifth avenue?

"Who's the customer?" I asked.

He seemed surprised. He paused in his eating, smiling. "You want to know?"

"Of course I want to know. You're my husband. What you do matters to me."

The truth is, I hardly knew what he did. I didn't need to. He provided us an incredible standard of living for which I was immensely grateful. I knew it had something to do with computers and some kind of special programs but that was about it.

"It's a fashion agency, Elite Model, we're presenting a multi-dimensional multi-media full sys . . ."

He lost me after a few words, but I'd heard of Elite Model. It wasn't Ford, or ONE, but it was a big name. He was talking about working with some of the top models in the world. For a moment I felt the green-eyed monster pop her head up, but I brushed that away instantly. After what we'd just done? I knew if I thought about it, he'd be working with the computer geek guys, not the tall skinny bitches who would steal him away if they could.

New York. The Big Apple. The Empire City. The City That Never Sleeps. And my David was going there.

That evening, as we prepared for bed, I knew what I had to do. I took a long soothing bath, because I was going to need it. I shaved my legs for him, trimmed up down there, dried and fluffed out my hair. I went easy with the makeup, before putting on my sexiest lingerie. David was sitting in his study, working on some kind of presentation. When I'd done my best, I stood in the doorway to his office, leaning against the door frame.

"Gonna be much longer, stud?" I asked, making my voice as sultry as possible.

He looked up, and never tearing his eyes off of me, closed the top of his laptop. "Anita," he groaned, the desire in his voice almost overwhelming.




CuckQuean - Anita, the Insufficient



"I need you, David."

A couple of hours later he was sated, and I was ecstatic. I knew I'd be out of commission for a couple of days, but it was worth it. He was mine now, as vulnerable as he ever got.

David was lying back, head propped up with pillows, his chest glistening. I arose from the bed, cleaning up a little before putting on some panties with liners or I'd be leaking all night. I brought in a warm washcloth, and wiped him down, tracing the path with my lips.

His breath had calmed and he seemed serene. I joined him on his side of the bed, away from the wet spot, leaning into him, arm and leg casually draped over him.

"Can I go with you?" I asked.

"Go? We're not going anywhere. It's after midnight. I have to be up in six hours."

"Silly. Go to New York with you."

I thought he'd be eager to have me join him. Love in the City of Lights. He could go to his meetings, and I could shop at Saks. Dinner at Keen's Steakhouse to deal with his protein needs. Something slinky to wear at night to deal with mine. It would be perfect. We could catch Chicago, or maybe Mama Mia!

"You know I prefer to travel alone, Anita."

His words stunned me. He loved to be with me. How could he say he preferred to travel alone?

"I won't interfere with your meetings, darling. I swear. It's New York! I've always dreamed of going there."

"We can go on vacation. We'll plan it all out. See everything," he answered.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. After all I'd done for him! "You don't want me with you?" I asked.

"Not during business travel. It's only a few days every couple of weeks. You understand, don't you?"

"No. No, I don't understand. You say you love me, you want to be with me, and then you tell me you don't want me to go to New York with you. I don't understand at all."

He sighed. "It's business, my love. I'll take you when it's just us. We can go to shows, shopping, a carriage ride, the best restaurants. We'll do it up right."

"You don't want me with you when you travel. That's it isn't it? You're looking to get away from me, aren't you? There's more to this travel than just travel, isn't there?" He was going to a modeling agency! That was it. I knew it. The bastard!

I knew it was bad, when he sat up and took my hands in his. He looked me in the eye, holding steady, waiting until I had his full attention.

"Anita, we have a wonderful thing. I love you and you love me. I want you to listen to me, and answer honestly. Can you do that for me?"

It was some kind of trick, I knew it. Still, what could I do? I nodded.

"Am I a good husband?"

"The best," I answered immediately, without thought. It was the truth.

"Do I deny you anything? Do I satisfy you in bed? Are you proud to be seen with me in public? Have I ever demonstrated anything but my complete love and adoration? Ever?"

It was impossible to deny it. "You're the most incredible lover ever, and you give me whatever my heart desires, even more. You're the most generous man in the world. I couldn't be more proud than when I enter a crowded room on your arm, seeing the way they look at you, and the way they respond to you, knowing you're mine and only mine. Every day you prove your love to me, and I appreciate it. I've never had any reason to doubt that."

He nodded. "That's what I'd hoped. I do my best to be the best husband I can be for you. I love you more than I ever thought possible." He gave my hands a squeeze, and sighed. "That's what makes this so difficult to say. I would never hurt you for anything in the world."

"What?" I asked nervously. "What's so hard to say?"

He climbed out of the bed, and quietly pulled on his boxers. "I want you to think about this before you answer. Then I want you to be as honest as you can be, alright?"

"About what? You're scaring me David."

"Ask yourself the same questions. Do you deny me anything? Do you satisfy me in bed? Am I proud to be seen with you in public? Have you ever demonstrated anything but your complete love and adoration? Ask yourself those questions, and when you have an answer, come see me in my study."

"I can answer—"

"No!" he said firmly, walking away. "I don't want to see you for at least ten minutes. Be totally honest with yourself, think about what I'm asking carefully, and then we'll talk."

He walked away, leaving me in a confused quandary. Of course I did everything I could to show my love! I adored the man.

I echoed the question in my head. Did I deny him? Did I satisfy him? Was he proud to be with me? Was my love and devotion ever in doubt?

How could he even ask! That was crazy. I was his, heart and soul. Absolutely, without limit. 

And still the questions gnawed away at me. Why would he even ask, if there wasn't some doubt? Something was wrong. I had answered the questions about him easily, without taking time to consider. Even thinking it over, I couldn't find any other answers than what I'd given him. He was absolutely devoted to me, and placed my needs and wants above his in everything. In everything, that is, until this trip. 

Did I deny him anything? Surely he couldn't be talking about sex. Of course I teased him a little, led him on, but that was all part of the game. I knew he wanted a blowjob this afternoon. Such a little thing, that couldn't be it, could it? 

I felt myself getting angry. Anal sex. Was that what it was all about? So I wouldn't let him have my ass. Was that enough to deny me my trip to New York? He never made a big deal about it.

Recalling the last few nights, when he came to me in bed, reaching for me, and I turned him away. Surely he didn't expect to have sex every day! That was completely unreasonable. We had sex two or three times a week. That was more than many of our friends. If he didn't leave me so sore, maybe we could do it a little more frequently. I knew I satisfied him, when we did it. Why else would he go for so long, so many times, using me up.

Was he proud to be seen with me? God, I hoped so! I tried to look good for him. So maybe I wasn't a trophy wife. My tits weren't huge, but he'd be thankful twenty years from now when they weren't sagging around my waist. Maybe I had a little more junk in the trunk than when we married, but a lot of men liked that. He seemed to enjoy grabbing my butt, touching me, fondling me. I knew I pissed him off when I cut my hair, but he wasn't the one that had to deal with it. Long hair was a pain. It was so much easier to take care of now. 

I looked pretty damn good, damn it! I dressed well when we went out. So I wasn't in his league, stopping everyone's heart when I walked in the room but that wasn't a fair comparison. He knew that when he married me. I was pretty, I got a lot of attention. So I wasn't a Hollywood actress, Playmate or Cover girl. I wasn't a dog.

Why would he ask me these questions? Why? Surely he didn't believe that I didn't love him? Totally, with every essence of my body! Was I jealous sometimes? Of course, but that didn't mean I didn't love him! It only proved that I did? How could he even ask?

I was confused, hurt, scared. More than a little angry. I looked up at the clock and realized it was almost one a.m. How long had I been sitting there, lost in my thoughts, reviewing my own behavior, looking at every aspect of our relationship over the last few years? 

Climbing out of the bed, I put on my nightgown, and wrapped myself in my robe. I went down the stairs and turned into his study. He was sitting there, drinking something brown. Probably his Scotch. He looked up at me, and I saw sadness and concern. Nervousness. He was no more comfortable than I. Maybe even less.

I sat beside him, not knowing how to start. Where to start. What he was asking wasn't fair. 

"I love you, Anita. More than anything. You have to know that," he murmured softly.

I nodded. "That isn't the question though, is it?"

He shook his head.

"Do you think I deny you, David? Do I not satisfy you? Aren't you proud to be seen with me?"

His look was painful, and unrelenting. "I want to hear your answer first, my love."

The words burst forth, an endless torrent. All the times I'd denied him anything, and the reasons, the justification. The times I said no to anything, for any cause. A few minutes into it, I was ashamed at how often I did it, over and over again, using sex to get my way, cajoling him into doing what I wanted to do, getting what I wanted, time and time again. Did I satisfy him? When we did it, I believed I did, most of the time. Sure I'd ended things before he wanted to sometimes, alright, maybe a lot of times, but that was because he was insatiable! Three or four times he'd want to go, hours and hours of sex if he had his way. I knew I'd left him wanting a few of the times we'd been together, and more times when I wasn't in the mood, or had my underlying objectives, but we had a great sex life! Hadn't we just proved that?

He listened calmly, nodding occasionally, not speaking.

I looked up at him, feeling the tears in danger of spilling over and making me look like a fool. "Aren't you proud to be seen with me, David? Am I a troll?"

He stood, and took my hand, lifting me off the couch. He hugged me, then removed my robe, soundlessly. He kissed me, kissed me with passion, before removing my nightgown. He eased my sodden panties down my legs, until I was standing naked in front of him. Then he slowly removed his own robe, and dropped his boxers. He hugged me, then took my shoulders and turned me. I was facing the mirror on the back of the door, where he checked himself each morning before leaving for work. He stood beside me, silent, making me look at myself.

It was a harsh realization. I'd let myself go. Not horribly, but I certainly wasn't the young hard-body he'd married seven years earlier. He? He looked better than he had then. A body carved out of granite. Perfection.

Me? I had love handles. A pooch. My hips were wider than they'd been, and lower. My thighs thicker. My face was too full, my eyes almost beady, I was even getting a double chin. My hair was a mess, boring. Without makeup I was washed out, pale. I lowered my face into my hands and cried, while he lifted me in his powerful arms, and carried me to our bed, as if I was weightless. At five foot four, and a hundred and fifty-two pounds that was hardly the case.

He placed me in the bed, holding me, enveloping me in his love. He loved me, after all of that. I knew he did. He showed me all the time.

"Why, David? How can you love me so completely?" I asked.

He chuckled, giving me a squeeze. "I've always loved you, Anita. From the first time I saw you. I don't know why. Why does the sun shine? Why is the ocean blue? I love you more than I've ever loved anything in my life, and never will love anyone like I love you."

"Am I a bad wife?" 

"No, my love. You're a great wife. It's me. I'm sorry, but sometimes I need more."

Need more? Need more what? More than I could give? "I don't understand."

"I know. It's not your fault. I love you with all my heart, never doubt that. But I need more. A lot more than you can give me. Through no fault of your own. I don't hold it against you, or blame you. It doesn't diminish my love in the least."

I could feel a chill rushing through me. My heart was racing, my skin growing clammy. "What are you saying? Don't talk in riddles!"

"I'm trying to be as honest as I can, Anita, my love, my life. My trips are for me. To get what I need. To balance the scales a bit. They change nothing between us, except to make me love you even more."

Oh my God! Was he saying what I think he was saying? "Because I deny you? I don't satisfy you?"

"I need more, that's all. Every couple of weeks I can get my fill. Loose my demons, give up control. Do all the things I desire, as often as I want, without care or concern. You need to understand, it's my problem, not yours, and I'm sorry that I'm not stronger."

"I could do that for you. Whatever you need, David. I'm your wife. You don't need anybody but me!"

He pulled me close, hugging me. "I wish it were true. Don't you think I'd rather be with you, my one true love, than any other woman, no matter how young, how beautiful, how willing? I tried, baby. God knows I tried. Three long years, before I couldn't stand it any longer."

Young, beautiful, willing? Three years? "There are other women," I said coldly.

"Yes. Many."

"For how long."

"Four years now. A couple of times a month, two or three days each time. Maybe one or two week long blowouts a year. That's all."

"That's all? That's all! You're cheating on me. Cheating! You bastard! All these years, and I thought you loved me. You tricked me. How could you!"

I could feel him stiffen up. I looked up and saw, not the shame or sorrow I expected, but anger.

"You know I love you, Anita. If I didn't love you so damn much, you'd have been gone years ago. You're my heart and my soul, even if I'm not yours. I put it all on the line for you, every day, giving you everything I have. And you play your god-damn games, and deny me my due, time and time again. Don't say I don't love you, damn it, when you know that's a lie!"

"But you're with other women. Younger, prettier—"

"And I don't love any of them. They give me what I need, so I can come back to you, and be what you need."

What he needs. What I can't give him. Did he understand how he hurt me? How badly the words burned? To think that I wasn't enough for my man, that he had to turn elsewhere.

I pulled myself free from his arms, and he didn't fight me. "I need to be alone, David. I have to think about this. You've hurt me badly. I have to tell you that. I don't think I've ever been hurt this bad."

He nodded. "I know, and I'm sorry. I needed to be honest with you. Believe me, the way I love you, seeing you in this much pain cuts me to the quick."

Maybe. But then again, I'd never cheated on him, had I? I left our bed, and walked over to the guest bedroom. I wasn't enough for my man. That was a difficult thing to face.

- ( . Y . ) - 

I had a difficult day, pondering his confession, wondering how it would effect us. If only I hadn't insisted on going with him, allowed him to take me on a separate vacation. Nothing would be different today.

Perhaps not, but I still wouldn't be enough for him. I wouldn't be able to satisfy him. He wouldn't be proud of me.

He'd still be cheating on me, over and over again, with younger, prettier, sexier, more willing women.

Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he give me a chance?

I thought about it, all the times over the years, the encouragement, the gentle pleading. The times I'd turned him down. The diets tried and failed. The unused fitness memberships. The afternoons spent watching my TV shows, rather than trying to be what he needed.

Every morning he was up at the crack of dawn to hit the gym. Every day at lunch he ran five miles to stay in shape. Me? My exercise was getting up to turn off the TV if I couldn't find the remote. Maybe an hour of housework each day, with the maids coming in twice a week to do the heavy cleaning. 

My day was TV, shopping, reading, running a few household errands, hanging out with the other wives, hitting the cafe, gossiping. Ten bucks a day in Starbucks drinks alone, including tips. 

I could change. I know I could, given a chance. I called the gym and verified I was still a member. David had never given up on me, keeping my dues paid. It was I who told him I still went occasionally, when he commented on my fitness. Gently of course. It still galled me.

My hair was a mess. I could grow it out for him. We could afford the best hair salons. I could throw myself on their mercy, let them make of me what they will.

I would never again say no to him in bed. I could put up with a little soreness, for my husband. I'm sure there was some way I could learn to accommodate him in my ass. That thought alone gave me shivers. He was just so damn big. Who were these women who could give him what I couldn't? What kind of freaks were they? 

Then again, they only had to deal with his needs for a couple of days, not day after day for years!

I prepared a nice dinner, something substantial for him, lighter for me. I was going to diet. Diet and exercise. Nothing would stop me from being the best I could. That's all I could do, honestly. Be my best for him, and if that wasn't enough . . .

What if that WASN'T enough? What then?

He came home on time, as usual, and went through his regular motions. I saw him stop and inhale deeply, as his eyes searched for me. I had cleaned up the best I could, and waited wearing an apron.

"Something smells delicious," he said.

"Dinner's in thirty minutes. Dress down, relax, have a drink. I'll call you when it's ready." No word about our discussion of the night before.

He walked toward me, taking me in his arms as he always did. Hugging me, kissing me as if he'd been gone a week, not just a few hours. I melted.

"I love you, Anita. More than anything in the world," he confessed.

"I know. I love you too. Heart and soul."

That earned me another kiss. "I know."

I squirmed out of his hold. "Go. I'll call you in a bit."

- ( . Y . ) - 

It wasn't until we went to bed, that we spoke of it. When he reached for me, his hand caressing my breast, advertising his need, I yielded to him. He was gentle, loving. Three times. After the second, I went down on him, to get him up again. I know he liked that. I never did it, but that was before. I could be what he needed.

He moaned deliciously as my mouth got him ready to go again. I thought it would take longer, but after only a few minutes he was dragging me up the bed, making me ride him. I knew I'd need to take some Tylenol in the morning, but that wasn't much of a price to pay.

When he was done, the bed was a mess. He helped me change the sheets, and we showered together, intimately. Back in bed, we cuddled.

"Was that better?" I finally asked, breaking the silence.

"It's always wonderful with you, Anita. I love you, and that changes everything."

"But still not enough."

He sighed deeply. "If we did that everyday, that and no more, no, it would still not be enough."

It was the anal. It had to be the fucking anal. "Do you want my ass, David? You can have it. I . . . I'll read up, figure out a way to be able to take you that way. I won't deny you. I love you so much, I never want to deny you anything."

He hugged me closer. "I still need more."

More? More than my ass? More than my blowjobs? More than loving him everyday until I wear him out? What the fuck!

His lips were brushing my forehead, sleepily, his hands still caressing my naked body. I was careful how I touched him. I was afraid he'd get excited and want to go again.

Damn it! Did he want to go again? Was that it? Was three times not enough? Maybe I should blow him. All the way to completion. That might do it.

Then again, from the sounds of things, maybe it wouldn't.

I had to do something! I wasn't enough for my man.

"I'm going to New York," I said firmly.

"No baby. That's my time. You need to understand—"

"I'm going, David. I have to. I do need to understand. I want to see. See what you do. See what these women do for you. What they can offer that I can't. I'm going with you and that's final."

He was quiet, holding me carefully. "I don't think it's a good idea, Anita."

"I'm your wife, damn it! I need to know! I want to be all you need. I want to do anything I can to make you happy. It's not right that you have to find someone else to satisfy you. Please, David! If you love me, if you love me at all, you'll help me to understand."

I don't know what he was thinking, as he lay there in silence. His hands stopped moving, stopped fondling me. "I think it's a mistake, but you know I can't deny you anything. I'll take you, but you can't interfere. You can watch, but you have to stay out of it. You understand? This is as much for your sake as mine."




CuckQuean - Anita, the Insufficient



"I promise. You won't even know I'm there."

He laughed mirthlessly. "I'll know you're there. I always know where you are, whenever you're near. God help me."

I had no idea what he meant by that, but it didn't matter. I was going. I was going to New York, and I was damned well gonna find out what those women had that I didn't.

- ( . Y . ) - 

I only had a few days to do the best I could. A few hours in the gym each day wouldn't do much for this week, but I was committed. A full spa makeover dealt with my skin and nails, and turning myself over to Mario had my hair looking somewhat reasonable. He wanted to cut and layer it, but I had to be firm, letting him know I was letting it grow out.

I let the best dressers at Lord & Taylor do what they could. David had told me to dress business casual. I left fifteen hundred dollars poorer but feeling pretty good about my outfits. I thought I looked damn professional.

By Thursday I was feeling nervous. I thought I looked great, and I hoped David thought so as well. My bags were packed with enough clothing for at least a week. They were sitting beside the door as I waited anxiously.

David had asked me to be ready by noon. By the time he arrived I had almost changed my mind about going.

He opened the door and saw me. He smiled. "You look gorgeous, Anita."

I stepped forward accepting his embrace. He kissed me. "Are you sure you want to do this? This is your last chance to back out."

"I'm not sure, I'm not sure of anything. But I need to do this."

"I understand," David said.

He carried the bags to the car, and after loading them, he opened the door for me. I knew this was my last chance to back out. I slid into the seat with no idea how this was going to change my life.

As we drove away from the curb, David reached behind the seat and pulled out a leather portfolio. He passed it to me.

"You'll be my assistant on this trip. Your name is Anna Robinson. You'll refer to me as Mister Connors or sir. Do you understand, Anna?"

"Yes sir."

"If anyone asks, you have been working with me for eight weeks. You are my personal assistant. My very personal assistant. You won't be required to attend any meetings, but you'll be at my disposal at all other times. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir."

"My meetings tomorrow start at ten in the morning. I'm not sure how my evening will go, right now it's in flux. I imagine I'll be unavailable until at least seven p.m. I'll be in my room no later than eleven. You have the adjoining suite, for the sake of propriety. I'll text you if I need you before then."

He was so different. So demanding, controlling. Was this his business persona? A side of David that I knew nothing about? 

"I understand, Mister Connors."

His hand reached over and grabbed mine. He gave it a squeeze. "I love you, Anita. I need you to remember that. Whatever else happens this weekend you have to remember that."

"I know you love me David. There's never been a doubt."

- ( . Y . ) - 

David traveled well. We had first class tickets, and waited in the Ambassadors lounge. The waitress there doted over him, to no surprise. We sipped our drinks and waited until we were called. The airline stewardesses were little better, they hovered over my David like he was a celebrity. I, on the other hand, had to ask three times for more ice.

Upon arrival at LaGuardia Airport, we were some of the first people off of the plane. Exiting the secure area, heading toward our baggage, I saw David looking around. He took my arm and guided me toward a man in a dark suit. The man was holding a tablet with the name David Connors displayed.

David made his presence known, and the driver followed us to the luggage area. The driver loaded our bags onto a cart and guided us out the door to a waiting stretch limo.

"I'm Jake, Mister Connors, and I'll be your driver for the next few days." He opened the door and stood aside.

"Thank you Jake. Tomorrow, from ten a.m until seven p.m., I'll be unavailable. I'd like you to take Miss Robinson wherever she desires."

"Of course, sir. That would be my pleasure."

David put his hand around my waist and guided me toward the door. He whispered in my ear, "Don't act surprised. Sit toward the front."

It was difficult to comply with his request. There was an attractive brunette sitting on the back bench wearing nothing but lingerie and heels. She gave me a smile and acted as if she didn't notice my hesitation. I moved to the side bench.

David followed behind, patting my rear, before sitting on the bench next to the mysterious woman. He had removed his jacket and passed it to me. I was still stunned. I folded and placed it on the bench beside me while he stretched out, sighing.

"Jessica, always a pleasure to see you."

The woman leaned over and kissed him as we pulled away from the curb. It wasn't a little kiss. "How long has it been, beautiful?" David asked.

"Four months. I was beginning to think you didn't like me." Her voice was deep, throaty, and incredibly sensual. 

"Hardly. You know you're my favorite. I just had too much travel to the west."

"You should call me David. I don't mind flying further if necessary. You have to know I'll always make time for you."

He laughed, caressing her body, before kissing her again. "My expense account isn't unlimited, Jess."

"Fuck the expense. I'll make up the difference. Just call me. Don't leave me hanging out there for half a year." She was pouting before she'd finished.

David nodded, brushing her hair back. The face exposed was simply stunning. Magazine cover material. "It was thoughtless of me, Jess. I apologize." He kissed her lightly. "The good news is if I can pull this one off, I'll be traveling up here much more often. You know who I'll call."

"Do I, David? God, I've missed you."

"Show me, gorgeous. Remind me why you're always first on my list."

She scrambled off the bench, going to her knees between his legs. She started working on his belt, and moments later he was raising his hips, as she worked his pants down around his ankles. My David groaned when her head lowered into his lap. He leaned his head back closing his eyes, stroking her hair. I saw his eyes snap open and he glanced at me nervously.

So this was his travel? No sooner had he set down, then he was getting a blowjob from a sexy woman. Fuck!

"Something wrong, lover?" the woman asked. Her head was tilted back, looking at him, and she was tugging at his flaccid meat. That was unexpected.

"A lot of stress lately," he confessed, guiding her head back down.

"Let me suck that all out of you. Relax, baby. Your Jess has got this taken care of.

David glanced over at me again. I tried to smile, as if everything was Okay. I guess that was enough, since he closed his eyes and moaned lustily. I scooted down the bench for a better view. Yep. He was hard. The bastard. Hard for that harlot. She was sucking him with total abandon, like the slut she was. 

I expected any moment to see her climb up and straddle him, but it didn't happen. She kept sucking away, getting wilder, making the sluttiest noises. I watched in nervous awe as she pushed her face down further and further until his entire shaft disappeared inside her mouth, her nose pressed against his belly.

Impossible. No way. I'd have to have a double jointed jaw to accomplish that. The woman was a freak.

My little movements, scooching down the bench had me sitting on the end, her act performed only a couple of feet away from me. I looked up and saw David watching me. I saw the look, his animalistic need. "Show me your tits, Anna."

It took a few seconds before I realized he was talking to me. Anna. I was Anna, no longer his Anita. Telling me to show him my tits. Now! In that damn limo with some slut sucking his big cock. 

"Tits, Anna. Now," David growled.

Fuck. I felt my ears getting hot, as I removed my jacket, folding it and placing it on top of his. I unbuttoned my blouse, opening it wide, before unsnapping the front clasp and exposing my breasts to my husband.

He had his hands on the brunette's head, his hips jerking upward as his eyes devoured me. Jesus, it was true. It was me he wanted. Me, doing what that slut was doing, swallowing his cock whole! I opened my mouth, running my tongue teasingly across my lips, looking down at his cock. 

"Fuuuck!" he groaned, holding the slut's head in his hands while he exploded between her lips. He seemed to come endlessly, shaking as he came for her, for us. For me.

Jess pulled away smiling, wiping her lips. "Damn, David. That came on fast. What's wrong, the little woman not taking care of things at home?"

He glared at her, and she backed off, falling on her ass. "God, I'm sorry, David. I didn't mean to. I wasn't thinking. Forgive me, please."

"Not a word about her, Jessica," he said fiercely, his eyes intense, staring at his weekend toy. "You know better. Not a fucking word."

She looked nervous now, crawling to him, rubbing her head against his thigh. "I'm sorry. Please, please forgive me. Never again I swear. It's been too long, I forgot, Okay? I didn't mean it. I know. We all know."

The embers in his eyes seemed to fade, and the tender look returned. He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. For a moment I thought she was tensing up, as if she expected him to strike her. How could she know so little about my man?

She had her face back between his legs, rubbing her cheek against his still substantial cock. "Let me make it up to you, David. Whatever you need, I'm here now."

He nodded, and she started sucking him again. She was gentler this time, more relaxed. So was he, stroking her hair casually, leaning back in the seat, eyes still drifting toward my chest.

It didn't make sense. My tits are nothing special. The girl between his legs had a full cup on me, if not more. And still, he couldn't tear his eyes away from my hardened nipples for long. "Anna, pass me my itinerary."

Again, the odd name threw me for a momentary loop. I grabbed the portfolio, leafing through the contents. It didn't take long. It was one page, printed front and back. It had 'Itinerary' centered in large print at the top. I pulled it out and handed it to him. He stroked the girl's head with one hand, while he reviewed the page. He checked his watch. 

"Jake, how long?" he asked, speaking loudly.

"No more than five minutes now, if the traffic holds up," the driver announced.

David nodded. He looked over at me, passing the paper back. "Confirm the dinner reservations."

"Yes sir," I said, feeling oddly comfortable in my role as his assistant. I knew the evil whore sucking his cock should have disturbed me more.

Less than a minute later, I hung up. "Confirmed for seven p.m., Mister Connors. Table for two."

He nodded. "Jake, I'll need you at quarter to seven. Once you've dropped Jessica and me off for dinner, take Anna wherever she'd like to go. Pick me up at nine, and we'll be returning to the hotel."

"Excellent, sir."

Take me where I wanted to go? Dinner for two, and I wasn't included. How could he? I looked up at my husband, feeling the hurt, watching my replacement suck him. His eyes bore into mine, challenging me.

I closed my bra, and buttoned my shirt, watching him. He appeared unhappy, but didn't say a word. Damn good thing, too!

"Enough, Jess. We're almost there."

The girl gave him one last long suck, then helped him pull his pants back up, tucking him away. As he adjusted himself, she reached beside the seat, and pulled out some cloth. Moments later, she was struggling to straighten it out. One shoulder was bunched up and I leaned forward to give it a twist, and ease it into place. She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled. "Thanks, Anna."

Don't ever touch my husband again, I wanted to scream. Instead I nodded. "Beautiful dress."

She beamed, glancing over at David. "Do you think so, David?"

He eyed her up and down. "I like the cream colored one better."

His words shocked me. So cold and harsh. He could have told her how good she looked, it was undeniable. I remembered his glance at me, when he picked me up at home, telling me how gorgeous I was. "Men," I teased. "Your lingerie would show under anything lighter. You look wonderful."

Jessica was still adjusting herself, and smiled at me gratefully, as we pulled up to the curb. The doorman opened the door, and David held his hand out to me. For a moment I was confused, then I passed him his jacket. With the door standing open, he put his jacket on, and Jessica adjusted his collar. He climbed out of the limo, standing tall, adjusting the hang of his suit, as I hurried to follow. He didn't even look back as he walked toward the entrance, while Jessica and I scurried after him. The limo driver was unloading our luggage, and I had to assume it would find its way.

David walked up to the counter, while Jessica and I stood back behind him. She put her hand on my arm. I wanted to push her away, but I was hesitant to make a scene. He turned and passed us each a room card. "Ten fourteen," he said. That was it. 

He headed toward the elevator and we followed in his footsteps, a porter not far behind, his red velour covered brass cart loaded with our things. The help didn't try to get in the elevator with us, waiting for the next.

David stepped into the elevator, sliding the card across the opening, before pressing the button for the top floor. "You need the card for access to the top floors," he stated simply, I imagine for my benefit. "Unpack. My room in fifteen minutes."

I glanced over at Jessica, who was in turn looking at me. The door opened, and I got out of the elevator, stepping forward to read the room numbers. David was close behind me, then turned to the right. I followed as did his slut. 

None of it made sense. The way he behaved, not just in the Limo, but in the lobby, and now. It was like we didn't exist, didn't matter. That wasn't my David. He never even acknowledged us, opening his door and walking into his suite. Jessica and I continued down the hall, and I used the cardkey on the next door. We entered the luxurious room, through the living area, into the bedroom, where a single king size bed stood. I walked back into the living room, where Jessica was pointing the porter toward the bedroom. She took it all in stride.

I opened my purse for a tip, and the porter backed away. "It's already been taken care of. Enjoy your stay." Then he was gone.

Jessica had her suitcase open on the bed, unpacking things. "We better hurry. You know how he is about being on time."

Actually, I didn't. I mean, yes, as far as work went he was a stickler, but in our life, not so much. If I made him wait an extra twenty minutes to get ready, all he ever said was that it was worth every minute.

I opened my garment bag, and hung up my business suits and dresses. Jessica had hers hanging beside mine, and I felt like an old school-marm, compared to her. A single suit of mine probably had more material than all of hers put together. I could see she was fretting over what to wear.

My clothing in place, I stepped over in front of hers. I looked over each one briefly. "This one."

"Really? You think so?" Jessica asked. "Why?"

"He'll like it."

She was stripping, completely. Pawing through her suitcase before she came up with a suitable thong. "Spill, sister. What's he like for real?" Jessica asked.

I was peeling off my own clothing, extremely conscious of how I looked compared to her. I didn't come off well. "What you see is what you get."

"For real? I always wondered if this was some act. The macho, dominant, controlling uber-male."

I pulled on my bikini briefs, and matching bra. I saw Jessica had skipped the bra, understandable with the dress I'd picked out. "It's no act. You get to see the real David. Not many people do." I don't know why I lied to her.

She was leaning toward the mirror, adjusting her makeup, fiddling with her hair. I walked up behind her, and took the brush from her, fixing the back of her hair, where it was tangled. Her look of appreciation and nervousness was unsettling. "I always get so nervous around him," she said softly. "You must know what I mean."

I nodded, although I had no idea at all. She turned to me, and ran her hands down her dress. "How do I look?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Incredible. Saint and slut. Beauty and brazenness. He's gonna love you."

She smirked, and I saw a flash of sadness cross her face. "I think we both know the truth about that. There's only room for one love in his stoney heart. I almost blew it today, didn't I?"

"Blew it?"

"When I mentioned his wife. The ultimate sin. God, can you imagine what she must be like to thaw a man like him?"

I laughed. I could imagine very well. "Jealous much?"

Jessica's laugh was easy and natural. "No shit. Don't you wonder how he is around her? The way he acts, feels."

"I don't think about it, to be honest."

She nodded, glancing at the connecting door. "I imagine not. It's gotta be rough, to be around him all the time. It would drive me insane, I think."

The slut adjusted my own dress, and ran her fingers through my hair, fixing it. I looked her over again, and realized what was missing. I opened my makeup bag, and pulled out the black velvet choker, with the antique cameo that David loved so well. It was a perfect match with her dress, and her long slender neck. I turned her in front of the mirror, and held it up to her. "What do you think?" I asked.

"You don't mind?"

"No. I think it's the perfect accessory."

She turned and surprised me by hugging me. "God, I'm so glad you're here. I get so nervous, so wound up. I always think I'm gonna screw everything up. You saw me in the Limo, nothing but a bundle of nerves. Having you to share this with is perfect."

I almost felt sorry for her. Then I remembered her sucking his cock. My David's cock. "I think it's time."

She hustled over and opened the connecting door on our side. His side was still closed. Her hand slipped into mine, and I could feel it was clammy. She looked over at me, down, I should say. In her heels she towered over me, much as David did. "God, Anna! How can you be so calm?"

I gave her hand a squeeze, reached up and centered her necklace. "I guess I'm used to him. We've been together for a while."

"Bitch. Teasing me like that. God, it would be so easy to hate you," she was giggling as she spoke, and I knew she meant it in jest. Funny, my thoughts were the much the same, and there was no humor in them.

I should have hated her. Everything about her. Her perfect body, big tits, full, long, luxurious hair. Those huge green eyes, and full lips which less than twenty minutes ago were wrapped around my husband's dick. For some reason I felt sorry for her.

The door handle turned, and her hand clutched mine painfully. The door opened, and she almost ran into the other suite, dragging me along. David was standing there in a robe, looking like he always did. Jaw-droppingly beautiful.

Jess released my hand, standing nervously. Her voice came out calm, but I knew it was an act now. "Hi, Handsome. Do we meet your approval?" She turned slowly before facing him again.

Poor girl. He glanced at her briefly, before looking at me. He raised his hand, making a circle with his finger. I turned for him, acutely aware of my shortcomings.

"That's new, isn't it?" he said, and I saw a hint of a smile. I nodded.

"I wasn't sure you'd like it. It was Anna's choice. I can go back and get the ivory outfit—" Jessica blurted.

"No. It's perfect." I saw the look on his face change, his forehead wrinkled. He stepped toward her, his hand raised. He reached for her neck, his thumb running across the face of the cameo we'd picked up in Italy four years earlier. He turned to me, eyebrows raised.




Cuckquean - Brittany, The Patient



This one was definitely written with tongue firmly ensconced in cheek. Thanks to both my first draft readers for their valuable feedback, and to my editor who kept the brakes on, before I got TOO carried away.

And thank you for all the kind comments and feedback on my first two stories. I hope you like this little adventure.

-,-'-{{@

"Damn it, Allen! It's after three in the morning. You reek of booze and smell like some floozy! What the hell is going on!" I shrieked at my husband of nine years, the father of our two beautiful children. This was becoming a habit, and I was going to nip it in the bud!

He kicked off his shoes, ignoring my tirade. I tried to contain my anger, but this was too much. How DARE he ignore me.

"I'm talking to you, Allen! What do you mean by coming home this late?"

I was sitting up in bed, my robe clutched around me. I hated when he got drunk. He always expected sex, and I was tired of giving in.

"Why would I want to come home?" he sneered, then walked into our bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Why would he want to come home? What the fuck was that supposed to mean? He had duties, responsibilities. He had a family, a wife and two children. A job. Admittedly it was a Friday, and he didn't have to go to work in the morning, but just two weeks ago, he'd come home drunk on a Wednesday! I'd had a hell of a time getting him off to work on time.

He exited the bathroom naked and dripping. At least he'd showered the stench of booze and smoke off of him. I saw him scratching his balls, and expected that any moment he'd start stroking that cock he was so damn proud of, and demand that I do my duty. 

The hell with that! I wasn't going to reward him for his actions.

He climbed into his side of the bed, and rolled away from me. The nerve of him.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself? And what was that crack about why would you want to come home?"

"I ask myself that everyday. Why should I go home to listen to your endless bitching, Brittany? Why should I have to beg to get a little pussy from my wife, no matter how good it is? Why do I bust my ass five days a week to make your life easy, when your goal in life seems to be to make my life hell?"

"You son-of-a-bitch! You think I make your life hell? That you have to beg for pussy? You ain't seen anything yet, if you don't straighten up. Next time you come home this late, drunk off your ass, that's the last you'll be seeing of this pussy for a long time, do you hear me?"

"Whatever," he growled, and ignored everything else he needed to hear.

- ( . Y . ) - 

A week later it was after two, and he still hadn't come home. He'd virtually ignored me all week, and the freeze out on my part didn't seem to affect him in the least.

When he finally walked in the room around two twenty in the morning, I was ready to give him what for. I'd had enough of his shit. He looked at me waiting for him, and sighed.

"God DAMN it, Allen!" I shrieked, letting him know just how pissed I was.

"Shut up, Brittany. I know. You're pissed. You're going to make my life hell. That pussy of yours that I ain't seen hide nor hair of in five weeks is off limits. That's fine. Carla's pussy ain't off limits. Not by a long shot. I'll sleep in the guest room, fuck you very much."

He walked past me, as if I didn't matter, having confessed to his cheating! What the fuck! How could he do that to me? To us? To his family!

And what was that nonsense about five weeks. That was so much bullshit. Hell, I'd given in to him after the Hammond's party, even though he'd been drinking. That was just, uh, right after Labor Day, back in . . . Shit! Had it been five weeks? 

Well, so what if it had? That was no excuse. I wasn't going to put up with it. No way. 

I went to my room, slamming the door so he'd know just how much trouble he was in. I had a hell of a time getting to sleep that night. Carla? That big tittied tramp! Fucking divorcée cocksucker. She'd get hers, too.

- ( . Y . ) - 

He was gone the following morning, and while I got the kids dressed and fed, I had a terrible feeling in my gut. Would he even be back? Were the kids enough to lure him home? I could see that he wouldn't want to face me. He had to know I was going to tear him a new one. 

Why had he started getting drunk every Friday night? Why was he so sullen? And what the hell was he thinking, taking up with Carla?

It hit me hard. He wasn't cheating. He was leaving. If he didn't want to be here, how could I make him? Sure, he'd end up paying for the kids, and I'd get some alimony, but did he even care? Allen had simple needs. A beer with his buddies, the occasional card game or fishing trip. A TV to watch his sports. A place for his tools. He earned enough to manage that after paying me off, and we had enough money saved for him to start over, if he wanted. Damn it!

I almost regretted riding him so hard to get that Master's degree, and fight for that promotion. I thought eighty grand in the bank was a great thing, more than any of our friends had. Now it just meant that he could start over if he wanted.

Why would he even want that? He had a great family. I knew damn well I was easy on the eyes. The attention I got from all his buddies assured that. I rocked his world in bed. Best damn pussy in five counties. Seriously, I'm not exaggerating.

At least I used to rock his world. Five weeks? How the fuck did that happen?

I picked up the phone and called my sister. 

"Brittany?" she answered.

"Heather, he's leaving me. I know it. He's fucking Carla, and he walked out the door today without a word. I've lost him. What am I gonna do?"

"Whoa! Slow down sis, did he tell you he's leaving?"

"He says he has nothing to come home to. That he didn't need my pussy, that Carla's wasn't off limits. He's barely speaking to me lately. I know he's gonna dump us. I know it."

"Shit. When did he start sleeping with Carla, that bastard! And why the fuck would he? No way she's half as good as us."

I thought about it. I don't think it was something he'd been doing long. Not Allen. "I think last night was the first time."

"Maybe he was just blowing off steam. Did you give him any reason?"

"Reason? Fuck no! I've never cheated on him, not that I ain't had plenty of opportunities."

Heather interrupted me. "I'm not talking about cheating necessarily. Why did he say he had nothing to come home to? What's the deal with that? I thought you guys had it good. There's no money issues, are there?"

"Hell no. I almost wish there were. We're shitting in tall cotton. Got over eighty grand in savings, and the bastard's in line for another promotion. That's all we need, another few thousand he can sock away for when he abandons us."

"Then what's the problem? You're not cheating. You have two gorgeous kids. Finances are strong. He's not working too many hours is he?"

"Not really. The usual. Still gets home around six."

"There's gotta be something, Brittany. He's always been crazy 'bout you. A guy like Allen don't just fall out of love overnight. What's going on?"

"I don't know, Heather. Everything's a mess. I'm gonna lose him. How am I supposed to raise two kids by myself? What'll I do if he never comes home?"

"Shit, sis. You best figure out what the hell is wrong. That's all I've gotta say. I can't believe he'd walk out for no reason. You sure you didn't cheat?"

"Damn it, Heather! You think I wouldn't remember if I spread my legs for anyone but my husband!"

"Then explain it to me. When did this start? What did he say about not coming home?"

I tried. I told her about the previous weekend, his asinine comment after getting home after three in the morning. The chill in the house ever since. So maybe I didn't tell her everything. I mentioned the five weeks, but left out the lies about me making his life miserable.

"You cut him off? Totally, for over a month?" Heather asked.

"I didn't really cut him off. I wasn't going to reward him for getting drunk and coming home at all hours!"

"So how many times did he come home drunk? Every night?"

"Of course not! He still has a job. It's been, well, like four times in the last month. That's ridiculous, if you ask me."

"Shit sis, if the man can't get pussy at home, he's gonna get it somewhere. You need to sit him down and find out what the problem is. Maybe it's not too late."

"That's if he ever comes home again," I said, feeling the tears starting. "He was gone when I woke up. Not a word, not a note, nothing."

"So you fought last night, and he took off this morning. His stuff is still there, right?"

"Yeah."

"He's probably out cooling off. I bet he didn't mean to say nothin' about Carla last night. Hell, it might even be a lie just to piss you off. He's doesn't want to come home just to have you tear into him. You need to handle him with kid gloves. And stop cutting him off, you idiot!"

"I gotta do something, Heather!"

"Well that's sure as shit not the answer. I would hope that's obvious by now. Maybe you should talk to Mom."

"Oh, hell no! You know she'd take his side in a minute. He's such a fucking suck up. As far as she's concerned, his shit don't stink. She'd somehow blame this on me."

Just then I heard the front door opening. "Gotta go," I said. "I think he's here."

"Kid gloves, sis. And make sure that all the pussy he needs is at home."

I could tell by the look in his eyes, he was prepared for a fight. I bet he'd been thinking up all kinds of cruel things to say. Well I'd be damned if I was going to give him the pleasure. Kid gloves? I'd give him kid-fucking-gloves.

He was standing in the doorway, like he didn't even want to come in to his own house. What the fuck was with that? I walked over, and put my arms around his neck. Gotcha. Weren't expecting that, were you, asshole?

"You look tired. Have you eaten?" I could smell the damn beer on his breath. I bet he'd been whining to the guys down at Joe's. That or maybe Carla had given him one.

He was slow to answer. "Wasn't really hungry," he said.

"I'm sorry I've been bitchy. Why don't you have a seat in front of the TV? The game should be on soon. I'll make you a sandwich."

"I thought you were supposed to go shopping with your sister. I was going to watch the kids."

Yeah. I bet you were. Probably take them and run off, once I disappeared for a few hours. "That was her on the phone. She had to cancel. I'll take care of them. You relax. I know the last few weeks have been tough. You don't need any more stress."

He was still wary. I could see it in his eyes. Still one foot out the door. Well, we'd see about that! I stood on tip toe and kissed him. That surprised the hell out of him. It took me a few seconds to get him to open up, before I could give him a little tongue. That woke him up. Hell yeah, fuck you Carla!

I pulled away slowly, rubbing my tits against him. They might not be as big as that slut's, but they were holding up better, and I knew he loved 'em. Oh, yeah, the son-of-a-bitch was getting hard. No way he was leaving me. No way.

"Sit, lover, and relax. I'll get you something to eat."

I turned away, and felt his hands on me. He couldn't leave me alone. Not this body. I gave my butt a little extra wiggle. In the kitchen, I grabbed one of the frosted mugs out of the freezer, and poured him a lite beer. Didn't need him drunk again, that was for sure. If he got beer dick, I'd be wasting my time. I brought him the lite, and he already had the pre-game show on. He thanked me, and I knew it was working.

White bread wouldn't do. No, I was pulling out the big guns. I turned on the oven, and broke out one of them Pillsbury french breads. I cracked it open and put it on a greased pan. Twenty minutes was all it took. I found the Steak-ums in the freezer, and fried those up with some onions and six slices of cheese. I'd have the bastard die of a heart-attack before I'd let him get away. 

I covered the pan, and went out to see how he was doing. He watched me like I was up to something. That's just fine. I was. He's a fisherman. He should understand, I was baiting the hook. I knew just how to set it, and I was going to reel that bad boy in, no matter how much fight he put up.

I knelt before him, and unlaced his shoes, easing them off. That should be a kick in the pants. I couldn't remember the last time I'd pulled that one on him. "Relax honey. The sandwich will be just a few minutes." I rubbed his feet for a few minutes, reminding myself to get odor-eaters.

I gave him another peck, grinning to myself as I left, giving the booty another wiggle. Carla may have tits, but I had her ass beat to hell and back.

In the kitchen, I gave Heather a call, hiding in the pantry while I spoke.

"Sis? Can you watch the kids for a couple of hours?"

"He's home? How did it go?"

"Kid gloves, remember? I need the monsters out of the house. I'm gonna remind the asshole that the best pussy in this town is right under his nose. Best damn blowjob too."

"Damn straight. Lannister sisters are the best, and it's high time you reminded him. I got the kids. Ten minutes?"

"That's good. They're in the backyard."

"Alright. You go get him girl."

"Oh, I will. Trust me."

I delivered his sandwich, and set up a tray for him. "Heather wants to take all the kids out for a while. Is that alright?"

He stopped in mid bite, and I knew what the bastard was thinking. I was setting him up. As soon as the kids were gone, I'd lay down the law. He was right about setting him up, but not about anything else. "I love you, honey, and I'm gonna remind you just how much, as soon as they're gone."

Take that!

Bingo, that one got me a nibble. "Listen, Brittany. I'm sorry—"

"I know, me too. Let's not talk about it. Watch the game, and I'll supply the half-time entertainment.

The mid-game blowjob worked like a charm. He sat back in his chair, and I was just where a pig like him wanted me, on my knees, sucking his cock. At least it was clean. Sure didn't taste like Carla had been his morning distraction.

After the game I took him back to bed, and I fucked the cowboy shit out of him. I'd like to see ANY of those bitches, Carla included, ride that stud like I did. Jesus, before I was done with him, he was telling me I was the best fuck in the country, and that he loved me. 

Right. I'd seen what his idea of love was.

Didn't mean I didn't give him a good show. All teary eyed and crap. Yeah, I said I loved him back, sucked that cock back hard, and didn't let him up until the late game was in the second quarter. I also made sure he knew he'd be seein' a hell of a lot more pussy. Best pussy in town, mother-fucker!

After the game, he insisted I shouldn't cook. We took the kids out for pizza, and he gave me some sob story about changes at work, stress, taking his buddy Frank out last Wednesday when his eleven year old hunting dog had to be put down, after getting bit by a rattler protecting his kids. Right. All kinds of lame excuses NOW. After he'd been plowing that slut.

I was sympathetic and oh-so loving. I could play the game. That evening, while he was reading bedtime stories, I got my sewing scissors out and cut my 'not tonight' nightgown into shreds, leaving them on the bed.

When he came to bed, he had a book in his hand. No fucking way. Not yet. He saw the mess, and looked up. "What happened?"

"That's one outfit you're never going to see again," I explained. I opened up the covers so he could see I was naked. "I can't believe we went five weeks without lovin' each other. I promise, that won't happen again."

Yeah, he lost the book, and I let him take charge for that one. Didn't even complain about the wet spot. He'd taken the hook. Deep. Now the only question was how much fight he'd put up.

- ( . Y . ) - 

I played him. Played him good, with a light drag. I'd learned something from those endless boring hours sitting in the boat with him, reading my romances while the fish teased him.

Being naked in bed every night was ninety percent of the work. I was draining him constantly. No way was I leaving him anything for any of those other sluts. I made his favorite meals, met him for lunch twice. Even let him take me to the bar, so he could show me off. Better that, then let him go in there alone.

Late at night we cuddled, and I told him how sorry I was that I'd been such a bitch. I blamed it on the usual, wore out from the kids, feeling old and unloved, gaining five pounds - all a lie, but hell he'd never know - you know the story.

He played along, how he thought we were losing the passion, making love less, all the stress from his new responsibilities at work, bla, bla, bla.

I found that impromptu blowjobs were a great mood-changer, anytime he started backsliding.

It wasn't easy, but I'd say after about three months, I'd landed the guy. No way he was leaving. He had it made and he knew it. Thank God, because the hombre was wearing me out. 

I talked it over with Heather, and she agreed. He wasn't going anywhere, and I could ease up off the gas.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't cut him off, but I didn't feel I had to be blowing him every time he turned around. He still got all the pussy he wanted, I'd learned that lesson. He had to work for it a little, and I let him take charge, but if he wanted it, all he had to do was ask for it. I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life being the man of the house.

I had to admit, the sex was good. Best we'd had in ages. Hell, maybe ever. But I think we both knew we couldn't keep it up like teenagers.

Still, we were good. Heather had a little talk with Carla. Got the truth out of her, and that wasn't so good. It was true. She'd fucked him. My sister is not as nice as me. She made sure the slut understood if she wanted to keep what was left of her hair and the rest of her front teeth, she'd think twice before even thinking about messing with a Lannister's husband.

That's why it didn't make any sense. I knew I had him. He was getting pussy when he wanted it. I never fucking told him off any more, not even when he needed it.

Still, he didn't come straight home one Friday. At least he called and said he was going out with the guys, but the fucker didn't get home until after two. I could see it in his face. The fucker had no shame, and he just stood there, all weepy eyed and shit.

I marched up to him, and smelled him. Beer, smoke, and some floozy's perfume. "You bastard!" I snapped. "Who was it? Who'd you go out and fuck!"

"I didn't mean to, I swear, Brittany. It wasn't planned—"

Shit. He was drunker than a skunk. How did he even drive home in that condition? "I don't want to hear your fucking excuses! Who was the dirty cunt this time?"

He looked ashamed, and he damned well should. "Dan's sister. She and her friends were getting drunk, celebrating her divorce—"

"And you thought it was time you started yours, did you? You lousy bastard, how could you? After all I do for you. Don't you get enough pussy at home? Don't give me no five weeks excuse this time you asshole!"

"I'm sorry, I know I fucked up. I was drunk and stupid, and you didn't deserve it."

"You're fucking right I don't. God, you piss me off. Go on. Run off to the guest room and hide. I don't want to see your cheatin' ass right now. Fuck you, Allen!"

I watched him slink off, lower than a snail's belly. I locked up the house and went to bed, trying to figure out what I'd done wrong.

Nothing! Not this time. Hell we were still having sex three or four times a week. It's not like he'd been cut off. Even when he fucked up the car registration, I didn't blow up. I kept my cool. And this was how he repaid me.

That wouldn't stand.

- ( . Y . ) - 

He was laying there, in that stupid little bed in the guest room. Too drunk to even get under the covers last night, naked on top of the sheets. The fucker got laid last night, and had morning wood this morning.




Cuckquean - Brittany, The Patient



I was gonna fix that. Before he was fully awake, I was riding the hell out of him.

"Was she good as me, Allen? Was that slut half as good as this?"

He groaned, shaking his head. "No way. It was a stupid drunken mistake, I swear . . ."

"Shut the fuck up!" I growled, digging my fingers into his chest. "You got the best damn pussy in town, and you're out messing with skanks!"

"Sorry—"

"Fuck your apology! Fuck your friends, who let you cheat on me. Fuck that skank whore who threw away one husband and now wants to take mine. Well no more, you asshole. Any fucking you do, is gonna be right here. You understand me?"

He nodded, and I showed him what the hell I was talking about. I fucked him blind, then followed him into the bathroom, and after his morning pee, I dragged him under the shower, and fucked him again!

Hell, I sent the kids to stay with Mom for the weekend, and I didn't let the cheating bastard out of bed for two days. And I mean, I did EVERYTHING. Blowjobs, ass-fucking, even made him tie me up. When I was done with him, he wouldn't have the energy to get hard, never mind fuck some slut.

Heather and I talked about it. We talked a lot. Hell, I talked to her while riding the asshole, only taking a break to come every now and then.

For a solid month I made sure he got it at least two, three times a day. Every single mother-fucking day. Best damn pussy there was, and he was getting it shoved down his throat.

He was damned appreciative too. Taking me shopping, out to dinner, buying me jewelry and shit. Like he could pay me off.

The blowjobs were back. And I mean ALL the time. Fuckin' met him at the door on my knees after work, beer in hand, the whole damn enchilada. No way he was gonna tomcat around.

He had that love-struck look again, wanting to pamper me and shit. All I wanted was to make sure he kept his dick in his pants, and didn't think twice about running off with some whore.

But I got sloppy, I guess. I loosened the reins a bit, easing back. Gave him a couple of days off. Forgot the blowjobs. I mean, I had him right? All the sex a man could want, all he had to do was ask.

I should have known when he stopped asking quite as much. 

I was enjoying the break, and he was still treating me like a queen. He used to bitch if I had Heather around too much, but she was becoming a fixture, and he didn't seem to mind. Hell, why should he? The bitch looks damn near as good as me, and we were showing off for him. No bras, tight shorts. Teasing him good. He was banging the hell out of me every night after she visited. Then the bitch had to go on a vacation, I relaxed a little and the asshole went and did it again!

No, I'm not kidding! Again!

This time, when he wasn't at home by midnight, I went looking. Sure enough, he was in the parking lot getting a hummer from some tramp I never even saw before! The nerve!

I made sure she understood that was a mistake. I dragged her halfway across the parking lot by that fake red bush on her head, ignoring her crying and bitching. Gave her a kick or too, while I told her to find her own fucking man, this one was taken. 

The asshole was following me around, fucking crying like a girl, barely able to walk, he was so wasted. I didn't get it. It didn't make sense. When he got that drunk at a party, I'd be lucky to get him hard after ten minutes of work. Now that damn big cock of his was sticking out in the wind while he followed me around like a damn puppy.

He wanted a blowjob? That bitch didn't know shit about blowjobs! It hadn't taken me two minutes of watching to figure that out. I pushed the idiot up against the wall, ignoring his whining, once the flat-chested skank had run off. 

"You want a blowjob, asshole? You come to ME you understand? No other slut had better ever put her mouth on my cock again!"

I sucked him right there, ignoring his pleas to go home, or to at least get in the car. No fucking way. That cock was mine, and only mine, and it was high time I made sure every one of those scheming, man-stealin' cunts knew it. 

No holds barred. All out, gagging, slobbering, deep-throat mother of all blowjobs right there, not ten feet from the entrance. Damned if I didn't suck the white off his dick. We had a substantial audience before I was done with the asshole, and I'd bet my panties not one of those men wasn't hard and jealous as shit. Fucking best looking wife around, giving a blowjob like that? Eat your fucking hearts out.

Dan, the owner, even came out, fighting his way through the crowd. Damn near as whiny as my good-for-nothing husband. "Not here, Brittany. Please," he whispered.

I turned and glared at him. "You let those other skanks blow their johns out here, and a wife can't give her husband what he needs?" I asked, stroking Allen's dick.

"I'll get in trouble. Someone might call the police."

I looked around. "Any of you assholes calling the police? Or would you rather I finish my worthless cheating man's blowjob."

It was clear enough. Zero for calling the police, and a unanimous agreement I needed to finish what I started. I smiled for Dan, and sank that cheating cock all the way down my throat, humming God Bless America, while I pressed my nose against his belly.  

I guess the stage fright wore off. Before I could finish the second verse, he was spraying down my throat. I swallowed like a good girl, and got up in his face. "Now THAT'S a blowjob! Right guys?" I looked around at my audience, and nobody disagreed. "You think some slut you pick up in a bar is gonna give you anything that good?" I asked. 

He shook his head, and I could hear he had a hell of a lot of agreement from our fan club.

I slapped him. "Then what the FUCK are you thinking, asswipe? You need to get your rocks off, you do it with me! You try this shit again, and I'll make sure you don't have any rocks left to get off!"

I stuffed his dick back in his pants and grabbed him by the belt buckle. "Excuse me, gentlemen. I'm gonna take this dipshit home and remind him what it's like to fuck the hottest, tightest, wettest, best pussy in town. Don't tell my sister I said that."

Hell, I didn't even wait until home. I fucked him in the driveway, again just inside the front door, and I gave him my ass in bed. He was a whimpering husk when I finished with him.

Two days later, I sent the kids home to Mom, and made Heather come over to make sure I wasn't doing nothing wrong. I was pretty certain I wasn't lying about the best pussy and blowjobs, but I figured if anyone knew, it was Heather. 

She was good about it, sitting in bed with us, while I wore him out. She gave me a few pointers, a couple of details that I'd forgotten over the years, but by the time I was done with him, she was grinning. "It ain't you sis. That's some damn good fucking. I don't think I could do any better, and that's the God's honest truth."

Have I got a great sister or what? Most would lie, and claim they were better. Not Heather. She gave me the credit I deserved.

Heather wasn't done, neither. She lit into my husband. "What's wrong with you, Allen? Ain't that the best pussy there is?"

He was quick to agree. "None better. I swear. She's fucking amazing," he said.

"Anything wrong with her blowjobs? Shit, I'm not sure even I'm that good anymore!"

"They're the best. I swear to God, there ain't nothing like hers."

"Then what the fuck were you thinking?"

He blushed. "I gotta stop drinking. It was stupid. The bitch swore up and down she was the best in town. What a load of shit! Hell, I was ready to toss her after just a few minutes. Wasting my time like that. That slut isn't a pimple on my wife's butt."

I saw my sister nodding. I still thought it was a shitty thing to do, but she was the competitive one, and could relate. She reached down for Allen's dick and gave it a squeeze. "I get it, but it ain't right. You gotta trust us, Allen. Ask around. Shit, since ninth grade there ain't been a slut in this town that could blow you like us Lannisters. That ain't braggin', that's a stone cold fact. Aunt Emma, she was a pro. Worked in Vegas even. Out at one of those ranch places, getting two hundred bucks a suck." 

My sister's older than me and got a head start learnin' what matters. I had spent years catching up. If she said I was as good as her, that was something! She was stroking him now, getting him hard. I knew she was only making a point. Lannisters don't fuck around. We had too much pride for that shit. 

"That's who taught us, Allen. We learned from the best. You're not looking at amateurs. You gotta stop samplin' these sluts. You make us look bad. Like we don't know how to take care of a man. Now tell me true, no bullshit, anyone ever fuck or suck you half as good as her?"

He shook his head.

"That's right. Nobody could. Nobody but me, and she and I, we don't compete no more. No need for it." 

"You tell him, Heather. Bastard won't listen to me," I said.

"Close your eyes, Allen. Close your eyes and don't open them for hell or high water."

He did, and she gave me a nod. I remembered this game, even though it had been a dozen years since the last time. It brought tears to my eyes to think how much my sister loved me. I gave him about a minute of top-notch head, and backed off. Heather did the same, and it was good to see she still had it, but no better'n me. We alternated a couple of more times, and once we knew he'd lost track of who was who, she started. "Was that your wife? Or was that me, just now." He groaned, and she gave him a good suck. "How about that one?" I asked. "Me or Sis?"

The next suck, she started talking while I was still working. I knew he'd last a while, we were dealing with his fourth erection. "Sis is damn good, ain't she?" Heather teased.

Then she took over and I continued the torturous teasing. "Heather's just as good. You can admit it. Best damn blowjob in five counties."

Heather liked that and gave me a hug, while I took him deep. "That's a lotta cock to swallow. Trust me honey, there ain't half a dozen girls around here that can handle all that."

When she took her turn, I returned the compliment. "Think about it, baby. Two best blowjobs around. You aint' gonna find better. You gotta stop looking."

Heather passed me the cock, and I could see she was done making her point. "You understand now?"

He nodded. 

"Good. Open your eyes, honey. Open your eyes and look at me."

He turned his head and kept quiet, while I got him close. I coulda probably finished him, but Heather wasn't done.

"No more. You get that urge, you bring it home. Brittany'll take care of you. God forbid, but if she can't, whatever reason, she's sick, out of town, whatever, you come to me now. No more bar skanks. No more divorcées. Ain't none of them gonna give you half what we can. You hear me?"

"No more, I promise."

She gave him a little kiss. Just friendly like, nothing to fret about. I trusted her and it was a good thing, since the only woman who could give him what I could, was in our bed.

"Good. Now give Brittany what she needs, and you and me, we're gonna keep this little conversation to ourselves. Nobody but us, ever, and I'm a last resort, understood?"

He nodded.

She gave him another kiss. "You're a good man, Allen. A good provider, and good father. You're a good brother. I can understand you wonderin'. But I hope you've learned your lesson. The next time we have this conversation, it won't be pretty. 'Cause I'll cut that damned thing off, and mount it over your fireplace in a pickle jar. Then there won't be any question at all about you gettin' any away from home. Am I clear?"

"No more," he answered. I was kind of pissed, all that work, and he shrank up like he'd just got out of the pool.

Heather saw what her words had done, and she turned red. "Sorry sis. I didn't mean to do that. But I had to tell him. I'm tired of his shit."

"I know."

Heather nudged me away, and it only took her a couple of minutes to have him squirming and hard as algebra. I get it. I mean, I know I'm the best, but it was new for him, and that means a lot. A lesser woman couldn't a done it, but that's my sister.

She passed it to me, and let me finish him. It was the right thing to do. We both knew it. We weren't cheaters. Not like my son-of-a-bitch, asshole husband. She waited while I took a minute to finish him, singing my praises. Best fucking sister in the world.

"Thanks," I said. We were close, she understood. That was all that was needed. She had my back. I had hers. The way it's supposed to be.

"Anytime. I've gotta run. You two got me worked up somethin' fierce. Happy hubby's gonna get tore up."

- ( . Y . ) - 

Best pussy in town. World class blowjobs. Day and night for two solid weeks, until I had to take Tylenol to keep going. He had to know by now, he wasn't going to find nothing better right?

So what the fuck!

Now Heather was blaming this one on me!

"What were you thinking, Brittany, letting him go to a Bachelor's party?"

"Don't blame me! The fucker swore there'd be no strippers," I said.

"There's ALWAYS strippers. Your man's weak. You gotta know that."

"I can't keep him locked up. I love the asshole, and he was already down in the dumps. He caught a lot of shit for being stupid enough to fall for that red-headed skank's bullshit, and then my giving a public blowjob the likes none of 'em had ever seen."

"'Cept Frank, Bob and Jimmy," Heather said.

"Well, yeah, but that was, what, over ten years ago? And Jimmy was yours, that's at least a little different."

"I know, you're right. I heard that little show you put on was epic. You made us proud, baby sis."

It felt good to hear her praise. "Yeah, but he caught a lot of teasin' so I thought it would be good for him to get out. You wouldn't want anyone to think your man is pussy-whipped and can't go anywhere without permission."

She laughed. "'Course not. Even if it's true."

"I asked, Heather. I asked around. No strippers. They all said so. Billy's fiancée made him promise."

"How bad was it?" Heather asked.

"Not horrible. He didn't fuck her or anything. No blowjob. It was just a titty-fuck, but it's the principle, you know?"

"I know. We gotta keep him drained, and watch him like a hawk. For a smart, tough man, he's weak when it comes to the sluts. How long has it been this time?"

"Five weeks, since outside Joe's."

"How come it's called Joe's if Dan owns it? Shouldn't it be Dan's?" Heather asked.

"Damn it, Sis! Focus!"

"You ever give him a titty-fuck?"

Brittany thought about it. "Not sure I have. You think that's all it was? Something new? He was good about not fucking none of 'em."

"Yeah, I'd bet on it. We need to fix that. Tomorrow?"

"That would be great. I'll let Mom know she's got the ankle-biters."

- ( . Y . ) - 

Alright, to be honest I wasn't THAT pissed at him. It didn't take much investigating to figure out that Billy's best man, his cousin from Indiana, had hired the strippers without anybody knowing. 

Idiots that they were, someone of course had their phone out, filming everything. A couple of carefully worded threats and I was in possession of the damaging video. Billy's wedding was on hold, ever since the police broke up his fiancée's revenge gangbang. Allen confessed he was invited, but he'd turned it down. Good for him. At least one marriage we knew about was on the rocks, and another was pretty hinky. 

Now we all know that some shenanigans are bound to occur at Bachelor's parties, but this one was ridiculous. Billy's became an all out orgy, the three hired strippers taking one and all, in very hole. At cousin Bubba's bachelor party, things were kept under control, by means of simple finances. At $50 a pop for blowjobs, and $100 for pussy, you might slip once or twice, but you don't make an all-nighter out of it. 

Billy's cousin has money, damn him. He paid the girls up front, for all comers. What did you expect? You ever see one of the guys show restraint at Golden Corral? You make it a buffet, everyone's gonna take advantage, and sure as shit, the sirloin's gone as soon as it's available.

The sirloin here was some whore named Doris. The ignorant slut was both gorgeous and married. By the next morning, between the dozen guys at the bachelor party, she'd been fucked a good thirty times, all holes. The other two had been used pretty hard, but not like Doris. 

This is not conjecture, this is fact. I've seen the video. When they were still going strong the next morning, and she hadn't shown up at home, her hubby went looking for her. It was her rotten luck that he found her. 

There were gunshots, fisticuffs, knives, and harsh words. Three men and one whore hospitalized. It's the kind of thing that becomes legendary, in these parts. Like the '92 county champion basketball team that ran a train on three teachers. Stupid sluts should have known better than make a bet against their own team. Twelve points ain't nothing in high-school b-ball.

And through it all, my man was an angel. Not much more than a lapdance and a titty-fuck, when everyone else was banging the ugly whores, while waiting their turn to three-hole Doris. Not my man. He resisted, with the best pussy in seven counties waitin' for him at home. 

Honestly, I wanted to take him home, and love the shit out of him, for being so good, but like I told Heather, it was the principle of the thing. I was institutin' a zero tolerance policy. We couldn't go easy on him.

He confessed, straight up, coming home at around three, long before things got ugly. I took care of him of course, milking him dry, but he knew we were gonna have words. Once Ma took the little ones, Heather and I escorted him back to the bedroom to make a point.

Admittedly, I'm only a C cup, and from what I saw on the video, the titties around my man's cock had to be a good double D. The way Heather and I figured it, together, we made up the difference. 

It's harder than it looks, messier, and a hell of a lot more awkward with four tits involved, but me and Heather, we'd worked as a team plenty in our younger years. It took a while before we had the logistics worked out, but once we did, damn! My man splattered both our faces with a huge load. 

Heather was harder on him than me. "Damn it, Allen! What did I tell you?" she snapped, as I sucked him back to hardness, with the first one out of the way.

"But I didn't do nothing, Heather. Didn't fuck none of them, not even a blowjob, and they were giving it away free," Allen said. He had a point. We never did say nothing about titty-fuckin'.

"Semantics, Allen. This ain't a game. All that cum is ours. Sissy and me. Every time you do it with someone else, it's like saying we're no good. That we can't keep you happy. It's not fair to us."

"Damn it, Heather. I'm trying to be good, and you know it. I was the only one NOT dippin' my wick, and I told them why, even. I had better at home. Not just better, but the best. Absolute fucking best from here to Lake Wahoo. I told 'em all. Next you'll be telling me I can't even jerk one off at the fishin' cabin!"

I didn't like seeing him unhappy like that, so I had Heather spell me awhile. She sucked while I did the explaining.

"No baby, never. We wouldn't do that, and it's mean to say otherwise. I'm proud of you. I am. I know that it had to be difficult to say no." I gave him a big kiss, to show I meant it.

"But you gotta look at it from our position. Heather and me, we got a reputation. We worked damn hard to get it. You know that better'n anyone. How many fights did you get in, making me exclusive?"

I saw the little smile I loved so well. "A lot."

"That's right. You fought for me, and you won. Won the rights to this pussy, and you won my heart too. How many men do you think would love another shot at this here?" I reminded him.




Cuckquean - Brittany, The Patient



"All of 'em."

"Damn straight. I've had more offers than you could shake a stick at. Heather and me both. Have I ever once stepped out on you?"

"No ma'am."

"Darn tootin'! I wouldn't do that to you. You fought for me once. Alright, a lot more than once. I'm not goin' to make you do it again. You get ME, honey. The best there is. Hell, you got sugar lips down there as my backup. You don't really need nobody else do you? Not no more. I'll forgive you Carla. I fucked up, cuttin' you off like that. Heather reamed me good for that one. But since then, haven't I given you everything? Ain't I been a good wife?"

I tapped Heather on the shoulder to get her to ease up. I could see she was distracting him.

He sighed when she slowed down, and looked back at me. "You're the best honey. It was just a titty-fuck. I didn't think you'd mind. I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"Promise me? Save it for me, baby?"

"I will. I swear. I don't need nobody but you."

I gave a meaningful glance at Heather, who was giving him her best. I didn't want him dissin' my sister. Not after all she'd done for us.

"You and Heather, of course. The both of you. I don't need nobody but the Lannister women. Hell, Brittany, who would!"

That's what I liked to hear. Heather and I gave him another quadruple titty-fuck, and once we got him off, we teased him a bit, cleaning each other up. That's all, you understand. We're not perverts or nothin'. She's my sister, damn it!

I made sure he knew the ground rules, and Heather helped. Within our own rules of course. She's no cheater, just like me. She didn't give up the pussy, and he wasn't allowed to come in her, but satisfying a man like Allen is hard work, and I appreciated her giving me a break now and then. Once we'd reduced him to not much more than a stain on the bed, I thanked her and let her know I had it from there.

It was back to early times, morning, noon and night. The man gave me more orgasms than at my junior prom. All by himself. Blowjobs were the order of the day, and we broke in all the furniture all over again. I got half a new wardrobe out of it. He even gave me the credit card and told me to buy Heather somethin' nice. She appreciated that, a lot. Three times as I recall.

- ( . Y . ) - 

Life was good. He knew the rules. So why the fuck isn't this story over?

If you guessed our fuckin' family reunion, you got it right on the first try.

I was pissed. I mean, royally pissed. Heather did her best to calm me down. Like I said earlier, she's the competitive one.

When great-grandpa Lannister's descendants all gather, it's a raucous good time. And nobody can deny that it's a visual feast. But there is the whole Lannister, Montgomery thing. Great Aunt Mildred married a Montgomery. They moved away, and somehow, those crazy Montgomery sluts got it in their head that they're just as good as us Lannisters, when it comes to taking care of our men. Ridiculous, I know, but they insist on lying about it.

So when Allen had an opportunity to find out, generously offered by that whore Wendy Montgomery-Childress and her sister Frieda, - don't get me started on naming a girl Frieda - he took it. Heather thinks I should let that one go, particularly seeing how he cleared things up as a neutral observer. No contest he told 'em. Lannisters had the Montgomerys licked. 

If he hadn't gone back for seconds, the next day, to prove a point, Hell, I might have even agreed with Heather. But seriously? Once - one day, twice each - wasn't enough? He had to take on the whole fuckin' brood? Wendy, Frieda, their baby sister June, and even their mother, that nasty ol' whore.

I wasn't accepting his claims that it didn't count. His argument was that not only were they family, but they didn't even live in the seven counties that Heather and I claimed as our domain. Plus, he was defending our reputation. Sorry, that doesn't cut it.

To prove a point, I even brought in cousin Alice to show him that it wasn't just the outsiders we were better than. It was even our own family. Sis and me, we were the creme de la creme, capo de tutti capi. Best of the best. Why the FUCK couldn't he figure that out? 

Alice gave it her best shot. Heather and I were there, and never said one harsh word. Hell, we encouraged her, praised her, told her how as a Lannister, she was the best there was. And Allen? I was proud, he rode her hard, broke her down, and turned her inside out. I'd trained him well. Face it, if the man can handle an all out blitz from me, there's not much he can't stand up to. 

Once he'd finished with Alice, Heather wanted to go through the rest of the family in alphabetical order, to prove her point. Allen, God bless his heart, told her there was no need. He believed us. So the weekend after was both punishment and reward, and Heather helped me tag-team him until he was begging for mercy. That was the reward. The punishment was not letting up after he started begging. Since we had him tied down to the bed, he couldn't resist much. When we were done with him, he couldn't have even satisfied a Montgomery.

I explained to Allen I had to give Heather's husband a couple of BJs to get him to loan us Heather for the weekend. Nothing I would have wanted to do on my own, but Ricky was a good man. He understood the problems in my marriage, and he gave us his blessing. Heather made sure he had Alice for the weekend, so he wouldn't have to do without. Lannister husbands don't take well to doing without. Hell, I knew that from recent experience. But, sweet as she is, Alice ain't no Heather. Something I should have remembered, or none of this would probably have ever happened.

So the weekend with Heather was the whole enchilada. When we were done, he declared it a tie, and I was fine with that. As was Heather. He did give me the edge on blowjobs, but he claimed her ass was a little tighter. I think he was just trying to make her feel good. 

- ( . Y . ) - 

I was happy again. He understood, my man really understood. He had the best. We could do to him, what he could do to any lesser woman. We even took four days off to go to the fishing cabin, with Heather and Ricky. Never got our lines wet. We did a fair bit of showin' off for each other, but stuck to our own men. That swappin' stuff is for the birds. Besides, after watching Ricky in action, big, good lookin' stud that he is, I was pretty certain that I was the big winner in the husband sweepstakes. 

I never said nothin' to Heather about that, though. That wouldn't be right. She'd done well, no doubt about it. Ricky was a man's man. But, and this is just my opinion, mind you, Allen was all that and a box of chocolates. He earned a better livin', our kids were better looking, his dick was a good inch longer, and just as thick. And the man could eat pussy like a jailhouse lesbian. Fuckin' A, I was proud.

He learned his lesson. For near on a year, he never even came close to cheatin' again. I'm not countin' that Halloween party. Heather and I were wearin' the same damn outfit, he was drunk, and she was my backup anyway, so he gets a bye. That wasn't cheating. Not anyway I can see. It was an understandable mistake and he kept it in the family. Cost me another damn blowjob though. Ricky was pissed at Heather, and it was the least I could do to get her out of the doghouse.

But when Allen told me the new teacher down at the school claimed she could crack walnuts with her ass, I wasn't happy. The slut claimed that being from Texas, she could do everything better. Bullshit.

I told him to bring her home, and we'd prove me right, AGAIN.

Now I ain't bad-mouthin' Texas. No way. The girl had mad skills. Ask Heather. Fuckin' snapper pussy damn near had me beat. It took the better part of a week to hammer that one out. She even gave Ricky a ride, so we could borrow Heather again. Allen had become the official family judge, after the whole family reunion mess.

Like I said, mad skills. Real tits, big blonde hair, an ass you could bounce a half-dollar off of. She had that snapper pussy that went off when she came, and had Allen howling like a banshee. It was a close thing, and Heather and me both, we gave her all the credit she was due.

But in the end we had it all, and she was a one-trick pony. A hell of a trick, but not enough. We even worked with her a while bringin' her blowjobs up to snuff, but her ass was all show. And that was the big difference. 

Watching her with my man, it did something to me. Made me both jealous and hotter than a third generation habanero. Man, oh man, that man of mine could work her over good. And every time he did, I couldn't wait to prove I was her equal. God's truth, I think she made me better. I told her as much.

And she conceded that Allen was fair in his judging. Heather and I both had her beat. If she was a Lannister, she'd a been number three, no doubt. Even Ricky admitted as much. 

I don't know how they train 'em down in Texas, but they're doing something right, they can be proud of Misty Ray Dawn Billings. I know I would be.

But even Misty Ray was no match for me or Heather, and together? Hell, I'd go up against anyone. 

Lord knows, after Misty Ray showed up, we had to prove it often enough. She was a proud woman, and rightly so. She should have been happy enough to take over my claim as best damn pussy in seven, no, make that eight counties. Alice spent a weekend giving us Williams County. Misty admitted we were the best sex in eight counties, and I was fine with that. 

But then she had to bring her damn family in on it. One of those big, west Texas ranch/oil families at that. For a full two years, not a month went by that some relative of hers didn't show up tryin' to lay claim to our crown. It was the fuckin' 'A' game, time after time. Hardly time for a rest anymore.

Most of them, admittedly were pretenders. We'd take 'em in for the weekend, with Heather and Misty Ray providing backup. Allen would put the latest wannabe through her paces, and Heather and I would cheer him on. Most didn't make it to the next morning before Allen would lay down the law and send them on their way.

Don't go thinkin' he was cheatin' neither. I mean about judging things fairly. My man ain't like that, honest as the day is long. Misty Ray even brought her cousin Travis up for a week to make sure things were on the up and up. According to him, if anything, Allen judged Heather and me harder that he should have. Misty Ray agreed. If any of her kin started down that line of crap, one call straightened them right out. Good thing too, or I think Heather would have scratched their eyes out. Nobody messes with a Lannister's man. No fuckin' way.

Most of them were pretenders. Not that little slut Tina Marie. How the fuck a twenty year old learns to suck like that is a mystery to me. We kept her with us for two full weeks, and all three of us, me, Heather, and Misty Ray upped our games. 

Tina Marie's pussy and ass were good, but not great. Even she conceded that after the first day. But damn! That girl gave head like nobody's business. We showed her off for a while, and before she was done with Heather's Ricky, I think she wore his cock down a good inch or so. Damn I loved to watch that girl in action. 

- ( . Y . ) - 

Momma says Heather and I are gettin' carried away. We're married women. We've worn our crown well for over a decade. We should allow someone else braggin' rights. 

No fuckin' way.

Someone shows up who is better than me and Heather, that's fine. I'll give up the title gracefully. Until then, no way. Hell, any real competition wouldn't want us abdicating, they'd want to win it fair and square. Ask Misty.

The good news is, it's been over four years since the family reunion fiasco. Allen ain't cheated on me once in all that time. And God knows, he's had the opportunity. A lot of women are beggin' for his tutelage, and I swear that every new pretender to our throne tries to get him to give them a try before hand, and begs to stick around for trainin' afterward.

Not my Allen. We had our troubles, and he took some breakin' in, but now he's as loyal and true as Uncle Ray's old coonhound. I love my man, and I'm as proud of him as I could possibly be.

I'm certain, no doubt at all, he's given up his philandering ways, and I'll be able to trust him until we're both old and gray.

I'm gonna stop writin' now. Misty Ray says she's picked up a new trick while she was in Atlanta. She and Heather are comin' over for dinner, and then Allen's agreed to let her teach it to us. He's good like that, now that he's been trained up well. If it's as good as she claims, we'll wear the poor man out, but you never hear him complain. Not once. 

How can you NOT love a man like that?

THE END 8=====D ~~~~ 

====================

Please let me know what you think. It's the only reward that novice writers like me receive for our efforts. Your opinion is important, and I hope will make me a better writer.



Cuckquean - Ellen, the Honest



She craves to watch. He's willing.

This one's kind of a biography. Not mine, but a dear friend's. I've heard her story, but I made the rest of it up. I'd never have the courage to just come out and confess my darkest fantasies. At least not in person to he who matters. 

And thanks to my dear editor who rides my ass hard, figuratively, making me go back and fix stuff over and over again. If the story is half worth reading, he should get a lot of credit.

-,-'--{{@

How can I tell him? He'll think I'm sick. I'd just forget about it if I could, but it consumes me.

Perhaps I am sick.

Twenty three years married, two grown children, financially well off, and married to the most wonderful man I know. The perfect life, and I'm scared to death I'm going to throw it all away.

But if I don't do something, I'm going to go insane.

Ever since Cindy left for college, I can think of nothing else. I know Steve is getting frustrated with me, and he should be. I'm short-tempered, a bitch to him half the time, and our sex life has gone to hell. I'm lost inside my head all too often, unable to communicate. I'm losing it. Forty-seven years old, and I've got the focus of a four year old. I've got to do something before I drive him away.

He's going to think I'm sick. Maybe I am, but I've got to do something!

- ( . Y . ) - 

I'd been my most loving. I labored in the kitchen, once my confident retreat, now a jail. I cooked his favorite dinner, served it with a smile, and gave him his favorite dessert. Me. I broke out all the big guns, wearing a tiny thing he bought me seven years ago, but never had the guts to wear. It exacerbated my every fault, and the poor fool never noticed a one. He was almost in tears when I paraded out in front of him, dropped to my knees, and gave him his birthday present four months too early. 

For a few minutes, it was good. I even forgot my compulsion. We were teenagers, in lust and in love. He was a young, bronzed, hard-body, the few inches added to his waist in the last quarter century invisible through the eyes of a girl in love. His need for me was exhilarating, humbling, and the most honest thing I'd ever seen. And I was ashamed that my part in it was a farce. A means to an end.

I wore the poor man out, which is quite the task with Steven. It was about the best chance I was going to get. I needed him sated, content, and enamored again. It was time.

I hated myself, but I had to do something.

"Steven, have you ever cheated on me?" I asked, my body melding to his, the two of us one, at least for the moment. I tried to make it sound playful. Yeah, I'm sure that worked.

"Cheat? Of course not! I could never be unfaithful to you! Why would you even ask?"

I kissed his shoulder, and rubbed his fleshy stanchion, hoping to calm him. Or excite him. Whichever would work. I wasn't picky. "Would you tell me if you did?"

"Ellen, it would never happen. Is that what's wrong? Somehow you got it in your head that I cheated?"

"No, darling man. I knew you hadn't. You couldn't. I was just wondering if you'd tell me if you did. Hypothetically."

"Hypothetically, if by some act of God, I was unfaithful to you, the guilt would kill me. I wouldn't last five minutes around you without confessing." He sounded irritated. This wasn't going well, but then again, I never thought it would. But I had to try. That or collapse inside myself, and live in abject misery the remainder of my days. 

His voice was chilly when he spoke up. "Would you tell me? Jesus, Ellen, you didn't cheat on me did you? Is that what this is all about? Have you done something foolish?"

Foolish? Only time would tell, but cheat? "No! Of course not. I've never even been tempted. I couldn't do that to you!"

"Then what's going on? You've been acting odd for months, and now these questions? I thought perhaps you were going through your change. I'd be patient, give you space, but now you're scaring me."

Scared? He had no idea. Try exposing the deepest darkest most humiliating secret to the one you love more than life itself, knowing it would shatter his view of you, and perhaps lose him forever. Wanna talk scared? I was terrified, but I couldn't back down. Not this time.

"Have you ever thought of cheating, Steven? Hasn't anyone ever tempted you? Even a little."

He was quiet, the way he was sometimes, when analyzing something, the engineer in him taking hold. He was thinking, weighing his options. But I knew one thing, if nothing else. He wouldn't lie. Not to me. Not now. Obfuscate, redirect, joke even, but never lie. It was a trait of his I would exploit shamelessly. Evil bitch that I was, I would use his love for me against him to have my way. I was that far gone.

He turned to me, his hand caressing my flesh. Flesh that was not as elastic or blemish free as when we met, but still excited him. Poor bastard. His lips, capable of portraying so much, pressed dryly against my forehead. If he was aware of what was going on in the brain below, they would probably turn to cinders. 

"Of course I've thought about it. Lord knows the opportunity has presented itself often enough. But it never goes beyond the stray thought. I don't even fantasize about it. Why, when I get to come home to you, my life, my love. I could never do it though. I could never hurt you like that."

"What if it didn't?" I asked grasping at the opening.

"'What if it didn't' what?" he replied. He sounded confused. His relaxed body exposed his anxiety as his muscles tensed. 

"What if it didn't hurt me? What if I said it was okay? What if I wanted you to?" There it was out there. I'd done it. I'd cracked my chest open and served him my heart and soul on a silver platter.

"If you wanted me to, what? Cheat? Are you crazy? You want me to cheat on you?"

I was almost in tears. I reached for him, clinging to him, terrified that I'd lost him. He had to understand. He just had to. He was my savior, protector, and I needed this more than I'd needed anything in my life. I needed him to accept it. 

"Yes, I'm probably crazy. I don't know why. But it wouldn't be cheating. I want you to do it. I want to see it. I want to watch you with another woman. The idea is driving me crazy. I think about it all the time. It's eating me up. It invades my thoughts. Please, Steven! At least think about it. I want you to have sex with another woman, and I want to watch."

He released me, rolled away from me onto his back, his eyes soulless, staring at the ceiling. His arm rose from between us, and brushed mine away, thoughtlessly, uncaring. Devastating. He shifted away a few inches, so we were no longer in contact, and I died a little.

My insanity had driven me to hurt my husband, and all I could think about was what I would do if he said no. How would I survive? I shrank, emotionally, physically, curling into a ball, hugging my pain, embracing the soul-rending agony of disappointing him for my selfish need. More than half my life in the balance, and I'd pushed it to the edge of the abyss, ignoring the black chasm, for a yearning I couldn't defend, couldn't explain, but couldn't deny.

God help me. I wanted my husband to cuckold me, and I desperately needed him to tell me he would. If he didn't, I'd die. I know I would. 

I AM sick, and the cure may be worse than the disease.

- ( . Y . ) - 

He didn't speak to me, wouldn't meet my eyes. His confident stature had faded, his shoulders sloping. His skin look wan, his eyes lifeless. The man I loved was shrinking, fading, and I was the one who had done it to him.

He went to work. He came home. He refused food. He didn't drink. He retreated to his study, and sat in his hideous old chair which I would never be allowed to replace, his safe-haven. He sat and stared sightlessly at the walls, and I ached. 

What was wrong with me? How could I wound him? He who gave his life for over two decades to make sure I wanted for nothing, that I was safe, secure, loved and protected. Spoiled. And this was how I repaid him, making a sham of our vows, while exposing the corruption within me. The vile filth that had replaced my organs with fetid trash. I was disgusted with myself, and now my perfidy was exposed to the only person that mattered.

After two dreary days and sleepless nights, he appeared from his den, shuffling, unkempt. He hadn't shaved, and his tidy hair was a mess. I watched him approach in trepidation, bracing myself in case he felt the need to strike me. I knew he couldn't but I almost hoped he would. Tell me I was disgusting, unworthy. Beat the foul thoughts out of me. Punish me for my betrayal, I wanted to beg. Instead I sat still, waiting, each moment stretching into an eternity. 

He paused before me, and I could hear the cracking and popping in his knees as he sank before me, diminished. He looked up at me, eyes misty in pain and disappointment, moisture brimming, lips trembling.

My God, what had I done? How could I be such a cruel, unfeeling bitch? So incredibly selfish.

He bowed his head, marshaling his thoughts. His hand rose, shaking, and landed on my knee, a condemning gesture of false closeness. His chin slowly raised, his lips moving, but no sound escaped. His pain was palpable, and I was to blame.

"Why?"

Oh God. Didn't he know I asked myself that a million times? Searched my thoughts, my actions, wondering how it had come to this. That most damning of questions, the true essence of my failure.

"I don't know." Inadequate, but true. "I don't know, Steven. I wish I did."

His head was rising, his back straightening, his eyes changing from pain to hardness. The hand on my knee clamped down, and I had to stifle a cry of pain. He was a big man, powerful, and his grip seemed to grind his fingers down to the bone. 

"You don't know? You ask me - that? And you don't know why?"

All I could do was shake my head.

"Damn it, Ellen! Is this some kind of payback? Have you been fucking around and now feel the need to allow me to get even? What the hell is going on here?!" 

How could he even contemplate such thoughts? I moved forward, sliding off the front of the chair, kneeling with him, my arms embracing his torso, my back exposed if he felt the need to punish me. Punish me.

"No, Steven. I would not, could not be unfaithful to you. Never. There is no getting even. Please understand, what I need is to see you. See you with someone else. Younger, more beautiful, more deserving. Worthy of you."

"This is insane," he snapped. Yet his arms embraced me again, destroying my defenses. I feared he'd never touch me again, but he was holding me!

"I know," I sobbed. 

"There is no one more beautiful than you, Ellen. No one."

Such a fool. Could he not see? Were the cataracts of love so blinding he didn't recognize how two decades, and a pair of children had ravaged my once smooth firm body. The varicose veins, the cellulite dimples, the sun spots on my skin, were these invisible to him? How could he not notice the changes, my sagging tits, the drooping ass, the wrinkles, my thinning hair? Was love truly blind?

And what would happen if I was successful? If he saw me for what I was, would it destroy his desire? Why did I need this?

All I could do was hold him, cling to him while he was still mine, foolish, in love, and blind. 

He stood and lifted me to my feet. He took me by the hand, led me to our bathroom, and started the shower. He undressed me slowly, his hands reluctant to move once they touched my bare skin. Each of my flaws exposed under the harsh fluorescent lighting, and innumerable bulbs over my sink. Reflected in perpetuity, mercilessly, by the mirrors over our sinks, on opposite walls. Naked, I stood before him, ashamed, while he undressed, flaunting his flesh. 

Life was so unfair. Once we were young, near equals. My youth and beauty a fair match for his many wondrous traits. His intelligence, confidence, humor, candor. His body was good, not great, but he was so much more than that. Fast forward twenty-three years and what little I had was fading, drastically the last few years. And Steven? He only got better. Every damn year, more devastatingly handsome, fitter, smarter, more confident, more powerful. A force of nature, irresistible. I saw how my friends looked at him. How strange women watched him. He was desirable, achingly so, and I was withering away.

It was never more apparent than when standing before him naked, under the spotlight, while he undressed before me, heedless of my fears. He took me by the hand and drew me under the shower. He bathed me, soaping me, his hands unflinchingly persistent, missing nothing. I realized I'd let myself go the last couple of days as much as he had, and the results, of course were far more telling.

He shampooed my hair, gentle but thorough, twice, before adding the cream rinse. His hands glided slickly across my skin, ensuring no trace of soap remained. He was hard, and his erection brushed against me time and again, deepening my shame. Hard, for what I'd become. How was it even possible?

I was his, malleable, yielding, willingly led into the middle of the room, where he dried me, not sensually but thoroughly. Allowing me no refuge from the harsh exposure, naked, helpless. I sat when he put the stool under me, and tilted my head as he desired, while the blow dryer dried my hair. The brush ran through what remained of my once glorious, shining tresses. 

He turned me around to face him. It was so ridiculous I almost cried, his large hands awkwardly handling my makeup, shakingly applying the concealer, blush, eye liner, and lipstick. He knew me so well, knew my habits and routine, imitating each poorly, but with a sincerity that shattered me. When the tears spilled forth he kissed them away, hushing me, professing his love.

He leaned back, examining the results. "God, you're beautiful, Ellen. How could I ever want anyone but you?"

His words struck me like the straps of a flogger would, I imagined. Each, individually, causing little pain, but the compound effect a thudding blow leaving me gasping.

Then I was in his bed, and he was in me. Leaning over me, kissing me, filling me so sweetly, so completely, beyond all I deserved. He was a wonderful lover and when we had sex it was incredible, still, after two decades. But when we made love, it was so much more, an affirmation of all that was good and right. How could he love me, after what I was putting him through?

I lay in his arms, comforted, pleased that I could provide him with the modicum of pleasure I could. My hand rested on that amazing vessel between his legs, the barometer of his need and desire, momentarily tamed.

"You need this, don't you?" he whispered. "For me to . . . be with someone else.

I nodded, struggling not to cry, not to show my weakness.

"And you can't tell me why?" Again, another vicious blow. And I deserved it. 

I shook my head.

"How would we do it?"

His words echoed in my head, reverberating, an impossible combination of sounds. Inconceivable. My salvation. My God, how that man loved me! The extent of my unworthiness blazed greater than ever, fueling my perversion.

"I don't know," I whispered. 

"Did you have someone in mind?" he asked, his hands gentle, his voice soothing, not accusing.

"No. Whoever you desire. The stronger that desire the better." There, another nail in my coffin. Not just a one night stand. Something more. Something dangerous.

"Here?" he asked softly, that single syllable inflaming my need. 

"I would prefer that. Whatever you need, my love."

"No," he said firmly, a hint of steel in his tone. "I need nothing but you. This is about what you need."

Damn him for leaving me nothing, not a shred of self-respect or dignity. Exposing my selfish perversity. "Here."

He nodded, and I was disturbed to feel him harden under my hand. Dear God, he would do it, and he would enjoy it. He had someone in mind, and for the first time in our marriage, he was thinking of another woman while in bed with me.

The orgasm tore through me like a flash flood: unexpected, unpredictable, merciless, and devastating. I cried out, humping against his hip, fingernails digging into his flesh.

I clung to him, my ears ringing, my hand grasping his stiff shaft, flooded with desire for another.

"She's beautiful, you know. Kind. Incredibly sexy without flaunting it. A natural blonde with big blue eyes. The way her hand brushes against me whenever she gets the chance, the manner in which she looks at me, I know I only have to ask."

I whimpered as his words beat me into submission, burning through my veins. She was beautiful. She wanted him, of course, and bravely let him know. He wanted her. Damn him! Damn him to hell!

And me with him.

I gasped, my shame shattering me, while I came again.

- ( . Y . ) - 

Our love was bright, new, fresh, reborn. I was ecstatic, and made sure he knew it. His stride was back, his confidence overwhelming. We caressed each other in passing. No mindless pecks hello and goodbye, our open-mouthed kisses screamed our love for each other. Our desire. 

He took me without explanation, without remorse. Bent over the kitchen table. Coming out of the shower. Forcing me to my knees in front of the TV, drawing my mouth to his cock, relaxing while I pleasured him.

We didn't speak of it. It would happen now. I knew it. He would do it. Do it for me. And he would love it. Damn him!

It was two weeks of exquisite, devastating anticipation. On Friday he dressed nicer before going to work. I watched him agonize over what to wear. He shaved twice, flossed, examining himself closely in the mirror. Standing in his closet, unable to choose, I chased him out. I selected his best, and dressed him. Tied his tie as I had so many years ago. His eyes burned my flesh. I knew he wanted to tell me, but couldn't find the words.

At the front door he hesitated. He couldn't face me. "I'll be late. I may not be alone."

I dragged him back, hugging him, clinging fiercely one last time while he was still all mine. "I know. Thank you."

He nodded, grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me with a passion that buckled my knees and flooded my panties. Would he kiss her like that?

"I love you, Ellen. Twenty-three years, I've loved you, and only you, with every fiber of my body and soul."

I heard the underlying accusation. I'd have to share that love now. 

He walked away, the door closing behind him. I sank to the floor, my back to the hard wood, my hands traitorous demons, beating my deceitful conniving cunt into submission, making it scream. 

Over and over again, envisioning him with HER. Seducing her, taking her, loving her, giving her the orgasms that should be mine. Losing control, his passion boundless. Fucking her mercilessly, endlessly, while she tried to steal more than his body, his lust, his passion. Would she be successful? Would she be better? Would he love her?

I collapsed onto my side, my hands still moving, legs clenched together, groaning as I came and came and came.

- ( . Y . ) - 

It was after midnight when I heard his car pull into the drive. The doors opening and slamming shut, their voices chattering, mindless of the agony each tone delivered. I'd left the porch light on for him, and the door was unbolted.

The house was immaculate. As was I. I had splurged, making myself up the best I could, at the hands of well-meaning strangers. I checked myself in the mirror. I knew I wouldn't be able to compete, but I had to reduce the difference between us to as little as possible. I had to. She might be better, but I wasn't totally unworthy.

The laughter outside subsided into complete silence, for far too long, the implication devastating, before I heard the key turn in the lock. I stepped back quickly, standing in the kitchen doorway, attempting to appear casual.




Cuckquean - Ellen, the Honest



More laughter as that horrible door slowly opened, allowing HER entry into my domain.

She was clinging to his side as they entered, smiling, draped all over him, like the slut that she most certainly was.

His appearance screamed infidelity: tousled hair, lip-stick stained lips swollen from use, tie slipped down below the second button, collar opened, makeup stained beside the telling bruise on his neck. 

Her eyes glowed with mischief. She kissed my husband on the cheek, her long legs striding my way, slinky dress shifting with each step, barely able to keep her decent. Decent in the conventional way, obviously there was nothing decent about her. She was braless, that much was evident. I wondered if she'd started that way. If my husband already had a trophy.

She was tall, over six foot in her ridiculous heels. Her hair was long and flowing, bouncing like a fucking commercial with each step. Those tits jiggled away, a teasing reminder of what they'd most certainly been up to.

I felt my panties moistening. The third pair that day.

She stood over me, only inches away, her back to my husband. Her smile was cold, cruel, and heartless. Her eyes told me more than any words could. She despised me. I wasn't worthy. How did she know?

"Ellen," her sultry voice masked the malice with which she spoke my name. "Steven has told me SO much about you." She leaned over and kissed me on the mouth, her breath boozy, her lipstick sticky, obviously recently applied. In the car of course, I'm sure he wore it off of her. Bastard!

"This is Karen," my husband said, suddenly before me, his arm around her waist. "I know her through work."

"A pleasure to meet you," I said, still able to feign politeness.

"I wonder," she giggled.

I felt myself flushing, and when she reached up and squeezed my tit, I almost collapsed. I stepped back, nervously. She wasn't supposed to be like this. I was letting her have my husband. She should be kind to me, appreciative. "I have a bottle of Cabernet breathing."

"That sounds wonderful," Steven said, smiling.

"Bring it to the bedroom, dear?" The bitch took my husband by the hand, and he followed along eagerly. Not very subtle.

I put the decanter and three glasses on the tray, before following them. By the time I got to the room they were in a hot embrace. She looked at me, while kissing him, then glanced at the tray. "We only need two glasses. Take one back."

No please, no thank you. Who was she to tell me what to do? And why wasn't my husband standing up for me? I put the tray down, and grabbed the glass, marching it back to the kitchen. When I returned, Steven was naked on the bed, fully erect, and she was standing in front of him, removing her dress.

"Be a dear and unzip me, Ellen?" she said, glancing over her shoulder at me. 

How long had she waited to shame me like that? I stepped forward and pulled the zipper down. The dress slid down her body, and it was my greatest fear, and yes, hope. She was perfect. I guessed her age at early thirties, but that body was that of a twenty-five year old. Slender waist, smooth, immaculate skin. One of those asses that looked even better bare than in a pair of jeans. Hell, I'd never had an ass like that.

She straddled my husband, and immediately, no foreplay, no prelude, she was sliding down on his cock. She breathed the most beautiful sigh as she accepted him, then kissed him lightly. "Pour us the wine, dear?"

My hands trembled as I filled each glass two-thirds full. I carried them over, and they stopped kissing long enough to accept them. She grabbed my hand, when I passed her hers. Her grip was tight, almost painful. "I should thank you now for giving me your husband. You are too kind. I promise I'll treat him like he deserves." She was rotating her hips, emphasizing what she was doing. "Go get a chair. You can sit right there," she said with a nod to the space beside the bed. "I wouldn't want you to miss anything. This is what you want, isn't it?"

Was it? Was I that much a fool? Did I want that bitch to sink her claws into my husband? 

She squeezed my hand, her eyes hard. "Tell me this is what you want. You want your husband to make love to me. To drive me crazy. To pound me with his wonderful cock. Tell me, no, tell HIM. Tell him to fuck me."

I couldn't. Looking into his eyes, seeing the passion already burning, I knew this was a mistake. I was a fool. My body was burning, but I knew that if I allowed this to happen, I was doomed.

"Tell him, dear. Tell him, or I leave now, and he'll never touch another woman again."

God, how did she know how to drive the knife home and twist it in my gut? I raised my eyes to Steven's, and the teasing smirk on his face told me I was lost, no matter what I did. "Please," I whimpered.

I stood, fully clothed next to their coupling bodies, shaking. I could barely breathe.

"Please, what?" she insisted, allowing me no quarter. 

"Please, be with her," I managed.

"'Be with her'? Is that what you want? No, tell him. Tell him now. Tell him what he has to do."

I could feel the tears starting. I couldn't let him see. I lowered my head, "Make love to her."

She laughed. "Silly wifey. He's not going to make love to me. Love is for the little woman, when there's no passion, when there's nothing left but a banal comfort and acceptance. Love is for the ball and chain. He's going to fuck me, and I'm going to fuck him. That's what you want, even if you're too much a coward to admit it."

She was wrong. Making love was MORE than passion. Far more. I'd been wrong to ask him to do that. And I was no coward. I'd put my marriage on the line for that; exposed my soul. "Fuck the slut," I snapped. "Show her. Show her what I get all the time. Fuck her senseless."

Ellen's eyes opened wide, and she laughed. She yanked me forward, making me stumble. And then she was kissing me, her mouth open, her tongue invading, hot and wet. She grabbed me by the hair, and forced my head downward, to her breast. She was riding my husband's cock, and she wanted me to suck her tit. She pressed my head firmly against her breast until I opened my mouth, sucking.

"God, this is going to be fun. Maybe you're not a coward. I like a little spunk." She abruptly pushed me away hard. I stumbled, falling to the ground. "Strip naked and go get that chair," she demanded. 

I scrambled to my feet, looking at my husband, waiting hopelessly for him to come to my salvation. When he ignored me for her kiss, I retrieved a dining room chair, and dragged it to our room. 

He was on his back, moaning, while she rode him. No! He was supposed to be fucking her! Pounding into her, making her squeal. Not like this.

She looked at me, moving sinuously atop him, the sound of their joining wet and cruel. She stared at me, until I finished undressing and sat in the chair.

She shrieked, laughing, as Steven turned the tables on her, moving her underneath him, hammering her with an intensity that frightened me. My pussy was weeping, and I fingered myself, holding my tit, caressing the rubbery nipple. 

She was encouraging him, long smooth legs wrapped around him, ankles locking behind his back. My stubby legs couldn't do that. I'd tried. She made it look easy. It had only been a couple of minutes but he was groaning, and she praised him, begged him for his come. That's right, bitch. Beg. Because once you're gone, he's mine again. All mine.

He grunted and jerked, his hips twitching as he filled her. Inside her. No condom, no protection, his seed filling her. Hot, burning...

I shuddered as I came, my hand a blur, my clit on fire.

"Look at her, honey. Look at the poor thing," the bitch laughed. I looked up to see my husband's eyes on me, laughing. Laughing at my pitiful need.

He pulled out, and she hopped off the bed, pulling me forward, making me cry out as she forced me to my knees. "Wait there," she hissed.

She pulled my husband over by the hand. His cock was semi-soft, the evidence of their mating devastating. I moaned when I saw it. "She wants to know, she needs to. Tell her how good that was. What a new, tight pussy felt like."

He blushed, and I could see it was difficult for him. "Amazing," he said. "Incredible. So hot, wet, and tight."

"You want more don't you, handsome?" she asked.

"Much more." Two more body blows, making me gasp, my nipples aching.

"Me too." She tugged him forward, his cock inches from my face, glistening with her juices. "Suck him, Wifey. Suck him back to hardness so he can fuck me some more. Suck him good, or I'll punish you."

Punish me? Worse than she already was? I opened my mouth, gagging when I tasted her on him. She grabbed my hair and forced me forward, pressing my nose into his belly. She yanked my head back and forth, bringing tears to my eyes. The bastard was getting hard, filling my mouth.

I hated that bitch. I yanked my head free, glaring at her. "I know how to suck my husband," I snapped, and took him back in my mouth, looking up at him, reminding him of the thousands of times I'd done that for him. Making him recall. I was his wife. Me. I allowed him to do this.

He smiled, and my heart opened once again. He did remember! He stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers, and I blew him. Yes, she might be young and beautiful, but he was mine, and I knew him. It only took a few minutes to have him standing tall again.

He stepped back, and the bitch took his place in front of me. She couldn't want me to...

She grinned, and pulled me to my feet. "I guess you're not totally worthless. That was impressive."

I smiled, knowing she was right. He loved my blowjobs. She hugged me, and when she kissed me, I didn't resist. That wasn't enough for her, and she kept going, touching me, reaching between my legs, teasing me. I responded, hunched over her hand, returning her evil kiss, shaking, gasping until I came on her fingers. She backed off, and placed her fingers at my mouth. I opened my lips and sucked them, humiliated. She had made my husband come, and now me. 

"Good girl. You can watch now, but keep quiet." She kissed me softly, then deposited me in my seat with a gentle push. She turned and kissed Steven. Long and deep. She climbed on the bed, on all fours, and wiggled her butt. "I'm empty, lover. Fill me up." 

He did, endlessly. My heart soared to see him take control. He fucked her, used her. Moved her around however he wanted, pounding into her. She was squirming and moaning, and when she came it was explosive. Yes!

His skin was glistening. I wanted to leap on the bed and hold him. Hug him, kiss him, lick the sweat off of his body. He was powerful, unrelenting. He hammered her pussy; she'd no longer be tight when he was done. He tossed her around, fucking her however he wanted, wresting another orgasm from her. That was my man, doing what he did so well. I saw the change, rubbing my poor sore pussy, unable to think of anything but his cock swelling, penetrating her, about to explode. He cried out, driving her into the mattress, his face screwed up in wicked agony as he finished, pumping desperately into the slut.

He pulled out of her, turning toward me. For a moment I had hope. He was coming for me. He would love me now. Instead he laid on his back beside HER. His chest heaving from exertion.

She sat up smiling, her hair a mess. She looked over at me, and crooked her finger, beckoning. Helpless, I went over and climbed on the bed. She pointed at his cock. "Again. However long it takes. I'm getting another."

Steve watched me, and I climbed between his legs. He was a mess, but no worse than the last time. I glanced over at my nemesis, and she nodded.

I knew I had my work cut out for me, but this was what I wanted, right? I started slowly, the taste both disgusting and exciting. I cleaned him, thoroughly and started pleasing him. I hadn't been at it long when I felt a swat against my ample ass. "Dear, fetch us our wine glasses."

One last suck, then I climbed off the bed. One of the glasses was on the floor, having made a mess. It would be a pain cleaning that, if it even came out. I took the glass, rinsed it in the bathroom, and refilled both. I gave them each one, and returned to my duty.

They chattered, and kissed. I wasn't paying much attention, my focus on my husband's needs. He was thickening, but I knew a third one would take time. All the effort in the world couldn't outweigh nature. So I did what I had to, gently encouraging, suckling, caressing his hips and thighs. It was quiet, and I looked up, they were both watching me.

"The little slut loves you, doesn't she?" Karen said.

"She does."

"Do you love her?"

He turned and glared at her. "Totally and without reservation. More than anything."

My heart soared, and I rewarded him, the only way I could, gagging on him, sucking him into my throat, working feverishly to get him hard.

"And me?" she whispered, teasingly, loud enough for me to hear.

"You're sexy and beautiful, and an amazing fuck," he said, grinning.

But it wasn't love. His love was mine. That was what mattered. I had done it. I had given him what he deserved, but he was still mine. He was mostly hard, firm, and thick. I climbed up the bed, intervening.

"You are almost ready. Let her finish preparing you. Feel her warm mouth. Thicken, harden, then fuck her. Fuck her hard. Show her. Show her how you can be. The best. You're the best. Now show her. Use her, enjoy her, fuck her senseless. You deserve no less."

I was proud of myself. I expected an angry retort from the slut, but she was smiling as my husband pulled me upward and kissed me. "Is that what you want. Still?"

I nodded shamefully.

"Would you prepare her for me?" he asked carefully.

"Prepare her?"

"She's a mess down there. Clean her. For me."

My stomach turned at the idea. It was wrong. Not just that it was a woman, but I was his! How could he even ask?

"Ellen," he said, and I looked up into his eyes. "Do it. For me. Clean her thoroughly. Prepare her, then watch me destroy her."

My hands flew between my legs, cupping my pussy. Destroy her. Use her totally, without care or concern. I whimpered trembling.

"Lick her clean, and watch me drive her crazy. I'll fuck her senseless. I'll fill that slutty cunt again, and when you've finished taking care of us, it will be just you and me."

I groaned, feeling the waves coursing through my body, the flash of heat starting between my legs, threatening to consume me. I looked down and she was sucking him. He was hard, completely, and she was sucking him. But I knew. He was hard for me, at the thought of doing that for him. She was on her hands and knees turned sideways. She was ready for me. 

I looked up into his eyes and nodded. He smiled, and as I climbed over his body to get to her, he slapped my ass hard, the retort echoing in the room. The stinging was invigorating, precious.

She was a mess, as he'd said. I braced myself. It's no different, I told myself. No different than doing it for him. The same juices. I leaned forward and the smell hit me. God, how could he ask me to do this? But it's what he needed. I crossed that last inch, tongue protruding, and I licked her.

She moaned.

She moaned. One lick. That's what I did to her. He had to hear that. I licked her again, and again more forcefully. Sucked her protruding lips, searching out any evidence of their coupling. She pushed back against my face, and I licked and sucked with complete abandon. I would help him. We would use her. The both of us. I would show her. I sat up and grabbed her hips, pulling her sideways, making her squeal. I put her on her back and buried my face between her legs, making her moan for me, clutching my head, writhing.

When she came for me, I almost screamed with pleasure. Me. I did that. I did it for him. I brought her to the precipice, and backed down forcing her to groan in frustration. I teased her, tortured her, made her plead for more. 

"Enough." 

I looked up and Steven's cock was beside me. I pressed a pair of fingers inside her, my thumb keeping her clit agitated, and I sucked my man's cock. He didn't need it. He was hard. This was beyond need. It was what he wanted and I couldn't deny him. I gagged myself, taking him deeper than I'd ever dared, my eyes watering. I pulled away gasping, only to have him grab my head, and thrust his way back in, all the way, choking me, using me. That was it. Using me, like he was about to use her. He pulled out, leaving me gasping again, desperate to breathe. He pushed me out of the way, flipped her over onto her belly, and took her.

I retreated to my chair, excited beyond imagination. I watched him pound into her, driving the breath from her. She groaned, as he claimed her, used her, as he had used me.

I got up and grabbed his wine glass, refilling it. I sat back in my chair, one hand busy keeping myself on edge, enjoying watching my fantasy. I was torn, feeling the jealousy, the shame, the humiliation. The things I'd done were vile, horrible, perverse. And there he was, lost in the moment, a fucking machine, loosed on the unsuspecting slut. This was what I wanted to see, what I needed. The raw man claiming what was his by right. What he deserved. That woman. Any woman. He could fuck anything that he desired, and in the end, he was mine. 

She was moaning, her body trembling in the aftershocks of another orgasm. I could sympathize. I remembered those days of unbridled passion, driving him to lose control. 

I finished my wine, and stood beside them. She looked at me, her eyes unfocused, her body quivering, bouncing with each thrust. I sat on the edge of the bed, caressing her hair.

"Poor little slut. Did you think you were a match for my man?" I leaned down held her face in my hands, and kissed her. I drove my tongue into her mouth, echoed my lover's thrusts. She gasped, and I retrieved my tongue before she could bite it off, in the throes of her pleasure. I ran my hands over my Steven, across his strong muscles, feeling them tense, down his back across his bouncing ass. I reached between his legs, fondling his balls, touching him where he entered her. Incredible, and he was mine. 

I kissed him, and he drove his cock into her fully, pausing to return my kiss. "You are so incredible. I had to see it. See it from the outside. See what it's like to be taken by you. I had to, honey. Forgive me?"

He laughed, and pulled out of her. "I love you. Now tend us both, and go sit back down."

I blushed, but did as he asked, stretching out between her legs, and licking her, until he nudged my face with his cock. I alternated between the two until he sent me away.

I refilled my cup, watching, waiting for him to finish, so I could give him what he needed again.

- ( . Y . ) - 

She stayed the night. He took her again in the wee hours, and woke me to tend to them both. In the morning, I was sent to prepare breakfast, while he used her. That ate me up, inflaming my insecurity. They came out looking exhausted but happy. She was sitting gingerly, dressed in the clothing she'd worn the night before. Still no bra and panties. Slut.

They praised my preparations, and my husband held my hand through much of the meal. We talked banalities. He said he was going to mow the lawn, and I should take her home. 

In the car she was subdued. "Will I get to see him again?"

"He didn't say?" I asked, surprised that he hadn't told her.

"He says it's your decision. You're not mad at me are you?"

"No, I'm not mad." I wasn't. Not at all. I was driving my husband's lover home, and I'd be returning to him, while she was little more than a memory.

"I did what I thought you wanted. What you needed. I've known other submissives."

I grinned. She didn't understand at all. "I'm not a submissive. I'm a cuckquean. I derive my pleasure from seeing my husband in action. But I'm not his slave. He dotes on me, pleasures me, gives me all I could ever ask for."




Cuckquean - Ellen, the Honest



She was quiet again. "Can I? See him again?"

I felt the rush, the thrill. I imagined him on her, using her. And now she understood. She was pleasuring both of us, by pleasuring him. She was my lover too, even when I wasn't touching her.

I passed her my phone. "Give me your number. I'll let you know. I'll need to talk to him. He may want someone else. Someone more deserving. Somebody younger, prettier."

She turned red, but put her number in my phone. She passed it to me, and held my hand when I went to take it. "Tell me what you need. I don't know. I want it to be good for both of you. I didn't expect last night. He . . . he's surprising."

"Incredible," I said.

"Yes. And more."

She pointed out her home, and I pulled up into the driveway. "I think I'll be seeing you again. If he wants you, maybe we should meet for coffee beforehand. We could talk," I said, feeling magnanimous.

She smiled, as I stopped the car. "I'd like that. Thank you. Thanks for everything."

She leaned toward me and I met her halfway. The kiss was more passionate than I expected. My husband chose well. I made sure I gave as good as I got. 

She climbed out of the car, and I called out to her before she could close the door. "I'll call later today. One way or the other. Next time bring a change of clothing, and plan a longer visit."

She grinned, and I was struck again by her beauty. Ten years younger than us, gorgeous, and she wanted my husband.

Of course she did. Who wouldn't?

"Thanks. Give him my love. I can hardly wait to hear."

"Bye," I said. No, I wouldn't be giving him her love. He was getting mine. Without limit or reservation. That's what he'd said, right? How could I love him any less?

- ( . Y . ) - 

Some were easier than others. Many we never saw again. Karen was a frequent guest, and we were friends. I never saw her intimately away from my husband, but we met often, went shopping, had lunch, whenever she was in town. She had an important job, and she traveled frequently. She was on the road nearly half the time. I had always wondered why someone like her didn't have a real relationship. She did, unfortunately it was with her job.

She would have been even more regular, but there was a fear of it becoming more. In truth, it already had. In the last couple of years he'd been with many women. Many. None were our Karen, but we weren't ready for anything more than what we had. Not yet.

I still don't know why I need it, but it's an indisputable fact. It drives me wild. I can come dozens of times watching him in action. If fuels my passion for weeks afterwards.

It drives me crazy when he has one without me. The first time it happened, I was a mess, crying, screaming, yelling at him, until he tamed me in his bed. He made it clear. I'd opened the door, and he wasn't going to allow me to close it. He would fuck who he wanted, when he wanted. And if that included some stupid co-ed who meant nothing to him other than a way to get his rocks off, I had to live with it.

I was hurt, and Karen had come over to take care of me, soothe and comfort me. She stayed the weekend, and I was put through my paces, taking care of them, watching their passion, and receiving their love. 

It still makes me a little nuts when he does it. He knows it too. I found a pair of tiny panties under the couch while cleaning. I confronted him about it. He only smiled, and bent me over the end of the couch before fucking my brains out. The thought of him with her fueled my fantasies for at least a month. Who was it? Someone I knew? Some mystery slut? What did she do for him? Was she a regular I didn't know about?

That afternoon I had to pleasure him at the door. He'd called ahead, and I was waiting, wearing my best lingerie. He closed the door and unzipped. His cock was dirty. I could smell it, I could taste it. He grinned at me. Another mystery fuck, the lousy bastard. Torturing me like that. I sucked him fiercely, then stopped.

"You asshole! That's Karen. You didn't pick up some common whore. That's our Karen!"

He laughed, and carried me into the living room, making me ride him in his favorite chair. "She was in the building for work. She wanted to see my office. She insisted I surprise you."

I couldn't help but giggle. The little bitch. I'd get her. "That was mean," I said.

"You loved it. You know you did."

I couldn't argue that. I was tingling all over. The thought that he'd been with some stranger both infuriated and excited me. Knowing that it was Karen, at his office, where he'd never fucked me, was another torture altogether. "In your office?"

"On my desk. I was almost late for a meeting."

"Was she . . ."

"Wild. I had to gag her with my tie." He lifted it and showed me the bite marks. I came for him, ashamed while he laughed at me.

Fuck. I could see them together, in his office, work proceeding around them as usual. Her skirt pulled up, panties pulled aside, while he used her hard. I moaned and he laughed again. He made me pause, then reached for his pants around his ankles. It was awkward, but he managed it. "Close your eyes."

I did. I hated these games. God, how I loved them! He knew me too well.

"Open your mouth wide, my love."

Open my mouth? I did, hesitant.

"Wider," he snapped, and I opened as wide as I could. He was stuffing something in my mouth, and I couldn't keep my eyes closed. He started bouncing me on his cock. "Her panties. I kept them."

I shrieked my orgasm through the panties, while he used me for his pleasure. I heard the door open behind me, and I was frightened. We weren't expecting anyone. He would have told me. I hadn't made anything for dinner. I reached for the panties, and he blocked my hands. "No."

I whimpered, burying my face in his shoulder. What was this game? Who would witness my shame?

I could smell her, and I relaxed. Calm, happy, excited. Loved.

She pulled the panties from my mouth. "I was wondering where I'd lost these." She kissed the back of my neck, running her hands along my skin, before kissing my husband. 

"Ellen, I believe you're in my seat," she whispered.

I got up, trembling, and knelt beside them. She lifted her skirt and took my place, settling on his cock. "Did you tell her?"

"No."

She beckoned me nearer, and I leaned into them. "We're going out for your anniversary. Wear something conservative. I get to be the slutty one."

Oh God. In public. Forced to sit with them, for our anniversary no less, while they acted like newlyweds. We'd only done that once before, and I hadn't been able to handle it. I'd cracked, and run from the building. My shame had been boundless.

She tilted my chin up and kissed me. "You'll be fine, Ellen. I promise. We're different now, you must recognize that. We won't push you too far. None of us want that."

Steven was silent, content to fuck the slut that had taken my place. His mistress. There was no other way to describe her. My nemesis.

"Don't hurt me," I pleaded.

She settled down, and hugged me. "Oh, honey, we won't. We love you. It'll be fine. You're going to hate every moment of it, and love it like nothing before. We're going to drive you crazy."

I was whimpering as she kissed me. She could push all my buttons. She knew it. I had to trust her, and I hated that. Trust HER. The woman who wanted nothing more than to take my place.

It was agony. Watching them, watching others watching them. I was commanded to drink with my left hand, my wedding ring on display. Her finger of course was bare. It was obvious. My husband was with a younger, prettier woman, and I was forced to watch. 

We ate dinner. They laughed, they flirted, they stared into each other's eyes. They ate from each other's plates, and shared dessert. I was a bump on a log, an afterthought. I could see the way the staff looking at me, embarrassed. They couldn't know what was really happening. Then again, did I? 

We drove to another bar for some dancing. She sat in the front again, while I was relegated to the back. I told myself I was being chauffeured. It didn't help. We had a table for three, and she sat in the middle. I was seated against the wall. They danced frequently, and she turned down the many suitors who asked her for a spin. A few men approached me, but I turned them away, explaining I only danced with my husband. I watched, growing twitchier by the minute. I was playing with my ring, almost hyperventilating. I couldn't stand it. Then he left.

"Where's he going?" I demanded.

"He's going to try to fuck the redhead at the bar," she explained. Karen pulled my hand into her lap and I found out she wasn't wearing panties. I tried to pull away but she had an iron grip on my wrist.

"Touch me, Ellen. Please. I need it now."

"Now?" 

She leaned against me, her voice low. "I'm not like you. He loves you. He'll always come back to you. I'm convenient."

She had to know she was wrong. I rubbed her softly, feeling her legs part. "That's not true, and you know it. You're the only one I fear."

"See?" she whispered. "I fear all of them. No matter what, you're his. What if this is the one? The redhead. He gets infatuated, and I'm yesterday's news. I hate it. Ellen. I hate it every time. Every single damn time he's with someone that's not you. How can you stand it?"

We both watched him talking to her, his hand around the back of her chair. She was flirting, laughing too easily, throwing all that damn red hair around. Touching him, playing with her glass, licking her lips. And the bastard was eating it up.

"I hate it," she whispered, and I petted her. She sighed, her head on my shoulder. This was crazy. How was I supposed to be the strong one, the comforting one?

"Me too. It drives me crazy," I confessed. "Especially when he does it away from me."

Karen sniffed, her hand sliding between my legs. My skirt was longer, almost to my knees. I lifted my hips so she could pull it up easier. "He always does it away from me. I only hear about it from you. We've been together for two years. Don't I matter at all?"

"Of course you matter. Of all the women he's been with, you're the only one that does. I don't think he's seen any other woman more than three times. He's been with you ten times as often."

"Not because he likes me. Don't you think I know? It's because of you. You accept me, so he puts up with me. That's all. I'm the fallback."

I didn't like her feeling sorry for herself. I especially didn't like the way that Steven was copping a feel from the redhead, her hand on his crotch, his hand fondling the side of her breast. He might as well have been fucking her on the stool where she sat. 

"I'll be back," I told Karen, pushing the table away and stepping out from behind it. Enough was enough. I wasn't excited or happy. I was pissed. This was wrong. Not like this, in front of Karen, in public. She deserved better. 

I stepped up beside him, and he didn't even acknowledge my presence. I grabbed his arm. "No. Not this one. Not now."

He looked at me in surprise, and he turned red. "We can discuss this later," he said to me firmly.

I held my ring finger up in front of the redhead's face. "Buzz off, slut. He's married." I turned to face my husband, seeing anger in his face. "Spare me the indignation. Not this one. Not now. Not in front of Karen. I won't have it."

"You don't decide—"

"I do now. This is NOT what I want. Are you coming or will you be finding a hotel tonight, because if you don't leave with me, now, you're not coming home." I turned and headed back to our table, grabbing my purse, and passing Karen hers. "Come on, we're leaving."

I heard him behind me, and felt his hand on my arm. "What the hell was that about?" he snapped.

I jerked my arm away from him. "Don't manhandle me! I'm your wife, and you'd do well to remember that in public! I'm not some slut you pick up on a whim."

He appeared shocked, and he leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I thought you wanted—"

"Not this. I never asked for this. Karen sure as hell didn't." I looked over and saw the terrified look on her face. I could tell she was afraid that she'd catch the blame for this. "I'm going home. I'm taking Karen with me. Are you coming or not?"

I expected him to blow up in the car, but it was a quiet ride home. Not a word was spoken. I knew he was pissed at me for messing up his night, but at the moment I didn't give a damn. Oh yeah. I sat in front.

At the house, I entered without a word. I looked at Karen, standing there, confused, and scared. "In the bedroom," I told her. She followed docilely. I turned down the bedding, and started to undress.

"Maybe I should go," she said.

"No. You're staying. If anyone's leaving, it's him. Get in the damn bed, Karen."

I know I had her confused. This was a part of me that she'd never seen. The part that had kept a household together with an iron fist, and raised two wonderful children. Just because I liked watching my man fuck other women, I wasn't a pushover or a wimp. It was about damn time that everyone understood that.

I opened my arms to her, and she came to me. I held her, kissing her face, promising things would be better. That they would change. It was a long time before Steven decided to join us. 

He entered the bedroom, looking at us. I watched as he approached tentatively, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry. I went too far, didn't I?"

"Way too far. What the hell were you thinking?" I said coldly.

He sighed, and started undressing. I was tempted to kick him out of the room, but I recalled my grandmother's wedding advice. "Never go to bed angry, without resolving your issues. It served me and your grandfather well for fifty-two years. I hope the same for you."

I was pissed, but I wanted to have it out. "Leave the boxers on. I'm not sure if you're staying yet."

He sighed, and sat on the bed, Indian style. I was still holding Karen, facing him, while she kept her head buried in my neck. "I thought you'd like it," he said. "I swear. It went too far. Let's not get carried away."

"Did you think Karen would like it? Leaving her to pick up some slut?" I asked.

He looked confused. "This is about you—"

"No, Steven. This is about us, our happiness. I was not happy tonight. Not excited. Did you even think to ask if that was what I wanted? You two railroaded me into this."

"I thought you wanted to see me with other women. That was your idea, not mine."

"I wanted to WATCH you with another woman. You keep pushing the boundaries, without any care at all for what I want."

"Bullshit, Ellen. Of course I care. I'm doing this for you."

"The first time, I believe you did. I don't think that show tonight was for me at all. You saw some woman, and thought you'd score. You abandoned us for some stranger. On our fucking anniversary!"

He scooted closer, and put his hand on my arm, where I was hugging our girl. "Explain it to me. Obviously I don't understand. What do you want? If this isn't it, just tell me. Your happiness means more to me than anything else. You have to believe me, Ellen. If I hurt you, I'm sorry. That's the last thing I ever wanted."

I watched him, and knew it was true. At least he thought it was. The man couldn't lie to me worth shit. He hadn't been able to since day one. "Take off those stupid boxers, and get in this bed, husband."

He smiled, and cuddled up behind Karen, facing me. "Talk to me Ellen. I'm all ears. Let me make it right."

"Where are we going, Steven? Are you going to keep pushing, keep testing me, seeing how much humiliation I can take before I crack? What's your end game?" 

"I didn't have one in mind. I thought you liked it. You get so excited when I'm with someone else. You're so happy. I thought you liked a little humiliation."

"In private," I said. "And I have my limits."

"Share them. Tell me what to do. What will make you happy?"

"First of all, NOTHING in public. I hate that. I think you might have learned that from the first time you pulled this crap. Second, I don't get off on seeing you with an endless array of women. Especially not behind my back," I explained.

"But you get so excited," he said. I could see he was genuinely confused. 

"Maybe I do. But I'm also torn up inside. I don't need that much excitement. I think once was enough."

He nodded, "Alright. No more secret relationships, and nothing in public. What else?"

"I want to keep her." There. I said it. I'm an idiot.

"Keep her? Who? Karen?"

"Who else? Have you learned nothing in the last couple of years? I love to watch you with her. It drives me crazy. I love to see you together, even out of bed. I love how you are with me afterwards, and I love how I feel. How do you feel?"

He kissed her shoulder, his hand slowly traversing her side. "She's my favorite, of course. I'm just afraid of getting too close to her. She's a danger to us."

"Is she? Would you leave me for her?"

"I'd never leave you. Not for anything. But she's different. I have feelings for her. I have to keep her at arm's length. For us."

"Those feelings, they matter. They drive me nuts, usually in a good way. I know you care for her, although you sure as hell didn't show it tonight."

"I had to do that. Show her that she wasn't special. I can't let that happen. You must understand why," he argued.

I nodded. "I know what you think, but you're wrong. I want you to make love to her. Now. And I don't mean fuck her. Don't hold back. Love her, and tell her the truth, no matter how risky, or how much you think it might hurt me. Can you do that for me, Steven?"

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm positive." I pulled back a bit, tilting Karen's head up. "Can we do that? Will you hear the truth? Will you let him love you, for me?" 

She gazed into my eyes, then nodded. She kissed me, and turned to face my husband.

I pulled back and gave them space, quiet, non-interfering. They started tentatively, and then they were one, moving together perfectly. I could feel a tightness in my chest, and a burning threatening to overwhelm me. They were staring into each other's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I know. I understand," she said.

"No, it was wrong. I was trying to prove a point, maybe even convince myself. I'm an idiot."

She grinned, and kissed him softly while he slid in and out of her. "No argument."

They were quiet, moving so wonderfully. She broke first. "I love you."

He paused in his movements. He kissed her, passionately, then lovingly, teasing. "I know." He kissed her again. "I love my wife," he said.

She nodded, and I could see how she hurt. My heart went out to her. 

He kissed her again. "I love you too. It's wrong, so wrong. It's not fair. I mean, I shouldn't . . ."

She chose the expedient manner of kissing him to shut him up. My jealousy surged. I knew it. He loved her. Not as much as me, but who knows? She's beautiful, intelligent, sexy. She makes a lot of money. She's a tiger in bed. How could I compete with that? I couldn't. No way. She was better in every way. He deserved someone like her, not those nameless sluts.

"Love me," she whispered. "Love me like you love her."

I groaned, my hand between my legs, shuddering from the intensity of my orgasm. Crying out.

They both looked over at me, and Karen smiled. "He's mine now, you know. He loves me. You gave him to me tonight. I'm never letting him go now."

I whimpered, shaking, the orgasms striking fiercely, enveloping me, unimpeded. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She was right. I gave him to her. Would I lose him? Would he finally realize I wasn't enough? That I wasn't worthy.

He was moving again, eager, desperate for her. I knew that look. The one I'd feared all along. The one I knew I'd see someday. The animal was gone, and my husband was gazing into another woman's eyes, the way he only looked at me. I struggled to move closer to reclaim him.




Cuckquean - Ellen, the Honest



Her hand stopped me, holding me away, while he grunted over her, telling her he loved her, as he pumped her full of his cum. She looked at me, and I saw tears in her eyes. Why? Why tears? She had him. She'd done it.

I heard the noise, never realizing the anguished cry came from my own throat. I was crying and coming, squirming, miserable. I couldn't catch my breath for the life of me. 

I'd lost him. To her. I knew it. I knew all along, and I had to play with fire. None of the sluts mattered. Just her. I was an idiot.

"Shh," I heard, looking up into his face. He was holding me, kissing me. "Don't cry, Ellen. Don't. I can't stand it."

I felt her behind me, holding me, kissing my neck. Kisses. It might as well have been a knife. "He's yours, foolish woman. I could never take him from you."

"He loves you," I sobbed.

"He does, and I'm so happy I could jump for joy. But he's IN love with you, and that will never change."

"I saw it. I saw the way he was." 

She giggled, squeezing my tit. "And I saw you. I never saw anyone come like that. That was unbelievable. You talked about the end game. I think we saw it tonight. This was what you wanted, wasn't it? Beyond fucking another woman, you needed to see him love another woman. A woman like me."

"It hurts," I whispered. "I didn't think it would hurt this bad."

She laughed. "Time to get over that. You need to take care of us, you little slut, because he's going to make love to me again, before he loves you."

"Steven?" I pleaded.

He smiled, and kissed me. Then his cock was in front of my face, slimy and dirty. I opened my mouth and took care of him. It's what he needed right now. There was nothing I could do. It was my decision. My penance. He would always be clean, before he fucked his sluts. It was my duty to do the cleaning.

He was hard before he eased me off of his mighty pole. I only had a moment to catch my breath before he was gently placing me on my back, and Karen straddled my face. "Every drop, sweetie. Leave me spotless. Don't make me punish you."

I cried while I licked her. Licked and sucked, and left her spic and span. She sighed. "Get used to it, sweetie. There's going to be a lot more of this going on."

The second time I had to watch from my chair. He fucked her that time. Fucked her into oblivion. I watched carefully, waiting for him to change, to slow down, to caress her, to love her. I'd seen it. He would stop fucking and start loving her, tearing my heart out. It was in him to do it.

I came when she came, empathizing, imagining myself in her place. If I was younger, sexier, worthy of him, it could have been me. I had my day, twenty years in fact, it was a good run, but now I had to give him up. For his sake, it was what he deserved. When he finished with her, I did my duty. It was my new place in life. I was the bedroom janitor. Clean up on slut one. Change the sheets, scrub the stains off the rug, air out the room. 

I was empty. I did what he needed, because it was what he wanted. It was all I was good for now. For me, my feelings were burned out. The pain too raw. The changes too sudden. I watched dispassionately, laying on the bed, unable to move to my chair, uncaring. She sucked him, doing what I should have been doing, until he was hard. 

She did it. Replacing even that duty. Would they leave me anything?

Steven put me on my back, and entered me. My humiliation was complete. Now I was one of the sluts, and she was the one he loved. She was me, and I was her.

Her hand was on my chin, turning me to face her. "Thank you," she whispered.

She damn well should thank me. I'd served him up on a silver platter.

"Stop it, Ellen. Get out of your head. Be with us."

What did she know? I had nothing now. She'd taken all that mattered. No children to take care of and nurture, no husband to love. I'd never had a job. In the last couple of years I'd grown apart from my friends. What was left for me? I was a maid, for my husband and his mistress, my replacement.

She stared into my eyes, then slapped me. She slapped me! Steven growled, and I saw him grab her wrist before she could do it again. "Don't," he said. The tone of his voice was frightening.

She didn't know any better. How close she was to setting him off. I'd seen it only a few times in my life, and hoped never to see it again. Like an idiot, she yanked her hand away from him and got in my face again.

"Is that it? Are you a coward? Are you going to give up," she sneered. She moved closer, her lips brushing mine as she spoke. "Or are you going to fight for him. Isn't he worth fighting for? You gonna give up and find something better?"

"There is no one better," I snapped.

She smiled. "Is he mine now? You surrender that easily? Coward. You don't deserve him."

Coward? Surrender? "Not in this lifetime, bitch. He's mine. MINE. Who's he fucking now, huh? He may love you, but he's in love with me. Twenty-five years, slut. A lifetime. Two children. How many children of his have you borne?"

She kissed me. The fucking slut kissed me! Like that would change anything. Steven pulled my legs back and started hammering me. I looked up at him, and pulled my legs back further. "YOU'RE MINE!" I screamed.

He laughed. The fucker laughed, leaning down and kissing me. Why did they keep kissing me?

"Of course I am. Everyone knows that but you, silly woman."

"But - you love her. I saw you."

"You said we could keep her," he said.

A shiver ran through me. I'd said that. What kind of idiot was I?

Her face was over mine, gazing into my eyes. "You love me," she said.

It was a lie. I couldn't. She was my enemy. My nemesis. 

"You stood up to him for me," she whispered. "Nobody ever did anything like that for me. Never." I saw the tears in her eyes, the overwhelming sadness. It wasn't right. She deserved better.

I reached out to her, caressing her face, while my husband made love to me, slow and easy. "You'd have done it for me," I said.

She nodded. "I would, because I love you. I love you, Ellen." The dam broke and her tears dripped on my face.

I hugged her, kissing her tears away. The poor girl. Thirty-six years old, and she'd never had what we had. Just this poor imitation. I looked up at my husband who had stopped moving. 

"Not me, you idiot," I said, pushing him away. 

He grinned. I held our girl while he moved behind her, lifting her leg, entering her. She only cried harder. "No," she moaned. "He's yours. It's not right."

"Hush. Of course he's mine. But now you're ours."

I could feel each of his thrusts, holding her, sharing her with him. I never let go of her, while he moved her around to suit his needs. Once he'd filled her I did my duty. 

I was exhausted, mentally and physically. Still I took my time, making sure they were both clean. We changed the sheets and climbed into bed, my husband between us. He held us both, a typical man, completely confused by what was happening, just going along with what we wanted. Karen and I, we understood. At least I think she did. I knew for my part, the war was on. I'd let him have her, but I was keeping his heart for my own. No matter how unworthy I am.

- ( . Y . ) - 

That was the weekend that changed everything. Three weeks later she moved in. Steven's outside trysts stopped. Maybe not completely, but they were very rare, and only when instigated by me. I was cruel, but it was necessary to keep control. He was mine damn it! And if that meant sending him off for some new younger, prettier conquest to keep my nemesis at bay, then that's what I did.

The jealousy, the sight of him with her, it still drives me crazy. I come in tons, exhausted. And when it becomes too much, they back off, loving me, reassuring me. Alright, I'll admit I've faked it a couple of times. What woman out there hasn't? I love the pampering I get for a few days. When he's all mine, if only for a couple of dozen hours. I need those times.

I'll admit I'm scared. Not the crazy jealous fear that I get sometimes in bed, blending the excitement with the potential of losing him when they become too loving, too intimate. Nothing like that. This one's real.

She's pregnant. She's carrying his child. She's snappish, and demanding, and he rolls with it just as he did with me. I can see the love in his eyes, when he holds her, caressing her belly. 

And I was the one who let it happen. She wanted it so badly, she needed it to be complete, to have what I had. One more connection to him, this one permanent, devastating. 

We were supposed to be done with this, but now it's out of my control. I feared from the beginning once I set foot down this path, I'd lose it. I hadn't lost him yet, but it was scary. I was counting on those weeks after she gave birth when he would be all mine again. She'd no longer be tighter at least. The Kegels I was practicing ensured that. That made me smile, deep down, in my secret place, where the battle raged. No, the odds would be a little more even, and I still had a big head-start, which I was going to work my ass off to maintain.

I figured in twenty more years, the table would be so even as to not make a difference. Time would deal with her. Time, that cruel avenger, would balance things. Her tits would sag, her ass would droop, her stretch marks would never fade completely. Until she was like me. I could keep my lead that long. After all, he might love her, but he was in love with me, and I'd yet to see any indication that had changed.

And if she got too clingy, too controlling, if she overstepped her boundaries, there were always younger, prettier, sexier sweet things out there which I could bring to our bed for him, and put my nemesis in her place. 

THE END 8=====D ~~~~



CuckQuean - Hannah, the Innocent



Honey, Can We Talk?

Four scary words. She had good reason to be afraid, but love as always conquers all. Shout out to my editor who is the best, the absolute best. His efforts make my swill somewhat legible. And thank you all for the kind comments and generous response to my efforts.

--,--'---{{@

I was feeling pretty good about my life before the whole thing started. I mean, I've got a beautiful home, and a great loving husband. I had a terrific workout that day, with two personal bests, and knew I looked smoking hot in the little surprise I'd picked up for my man, Bobby. I had a nice little buzz going, dinner warming in the oven, and was going to fuck my lucky hubby's brains out.

He showed up right on time, with a bouquet of roses in his hand. For no reason at all, just because he loved me. Proof positive we were on the same wavelength. I gave him a big kiss, trying to hide my grin. I had a bulky robe on, but for dessert, he was going to get to see the prize inside.

"Go in and change," I told him. "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

"Sounds great, Honey," he said, grinning. I could see him sniffing at the air. "What did you make?"

"We're having lasagna, veal Marsala, and linguini with clam sauce. Sounds yummy, don't it?"

I saw him hesitate. Damn. I hope he wasn't going to pull that crap about me cooking again. He knew it was Friday. I barely had time to get ready for him when he got home, never mind cook. 

I watched. He was shaking his head, like I'd disappointed him. Oh, boo hoo. So I got carry out. I bet he'd feel guilty as shit if he knew the reason I couldn't cook, was because I'd bought that sexy little teddy for him at Vicky's. I almost didn't feel like letting him have his surprise.

When he came out for dinner, he was smiling again. I guess he was out of his little funk. I knew he liked Luigi's. If it was just me, I'd have picked that new Thai place, but as usual, I was thinking of him first.

After dinner, I sent him to the couch to relax, with a glass of wine. I threw away what was left, I couldn't have leftovers around, I'd sure as shit eat them in the middle of the night, and blow my diet all to hell and back. I tossed the Chinette, and wiped down the table. Voila! Five minutes and no trace of a mess.

He was watching the news, and I figured it was time for his surprise. Lucky bastard.

I slipped on my new strappy heels that matched the outfit, and checked my hair in the mirror. Beautiful, dahlink. I walked behind his chair, out of view, and stroked him softly across the shoulders. I put a little extra wiggle in my walk, as I entered his view, standing seductively in front of the TV. "I brought you something special for dessert, baby."

He smiled for me, although he looked a little weary. I'm not surprised. By the end of the week sometimes he's pretty fried. He works his ass off for us, and I was about to remind him how much I appreciated it.

I peeled back the robe, and exposed the emerald green outfit, lacy, and mostly transparent, the top barely covering the tits he loved so much, the pinched waist emphasizing the results of all that time in the gym. All for him. "You like?"

I got another sweet smile. Yes! And on top of everything else, this little outfit completed the set. One in every color. I could cater to his every whim.

I danced sexily for him, moving forward, my hands extended, palms up, fingers beckoning, calling him forward. He stood and I took him by the hand pulling him along behind me. In the bedroom I quickly pulled the quilt cover off, wouldn't want anything to happen to it, it was Amish, handmade, and a pain to wash. I put the towel down, laying it out carefully, so there'd be no folds or creases to provide him any discomfort. It only took me a minute or so to free myself from the torturous heels and climb in the bed, adjusting the pillow. I laid down, opening my legs, caressing my sleek inner thighs. 

"All yours, baby. You deserve it. Come let Momma love you."

He took off his t-shirt and shorts, approaching the side of the bed. He knelt beside me, and I took his wonderful man-meat in my hand, rubbing it, stroking it, until he was ready. I laid back, and with a teasing giggle, unsnapped the little piece of cloth between my legs. "Come on, Mister Wonderful, heaven awaits."

I felt his powerful hands on my legs, as he maneuvered his way between them. I was excited. No KY needed. Not tonight. I wanted him, needed him. He rubbed the glistening purple head across my opening, then slipped it to me, with the ease of frequent practice, despite his size. I know there are women out there who either don't like sex, or think it's a way to control their husbands. Not me. Even when I wasn't in the mood, I'd never deny him. Never. We had sex more than any married couple I knew, at least four or five times a week. Sometimes twice in one night.

As he started stroking into me, I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling, knowing I was his, and he was mine. Basking in the ability to give him this pleasure. I reached up and cupped my breasts, a subtle reminder of what he loved. 

So good, the easy sliding motion, filling me, then retreating. "Mmmm," I purred, letting him know how much I loved what he was doing. After a few minutes I could feel his eagerness as he sped up. I smiled for him, giving a little wiggle of my hips, urging him onward.

He lifted my legs, pounding harder. I left them there for a while, letting him enjoy the different feeling, then slid them back down to the bed, spread wide, knees up, feet flat, in the position we both loved so much. Where I was completely available to him, so he could look down and see me, see my body, watch me respond. 

He pushed in deep, and paused. "Hannah, Honey. You want on top for a while?" he asked.

I wonder why he even asked. We both knew this was what he wanted. I didn't need to be in control. This was our position. "Like this, baby. Do me right. Take me."

He started moving again, firm strokes, making my tits jiggle for him. I could almost see him smile. I had great tits. And they were his. His to suck, to fondle, to make dance as they were now.

I could feel it. Feel his need. I sensed I was pushing him over the edge. Five years together, and I knew everything about him. He was close. I opened my eyes a bit, peeking at him. He was grunting softly, his head back, eyes shut. His muscular chest was shining from his perspiration. This is what I did to him.

He groaned, shoving his cock deep inside of me, filling me, to the point of being a little uncomfortable, but I'd never let him know that. I suffered it gladly to bring him his pleasure. Several more grunts and I could feel that he was pumping me full of his warm seed. I'd read how some women could feel it spray inside. I only wish I could. What I did feel was the throbbing of his cock as he achieved that incredible extended release.

He pulled out of me, and I hurried over to get some paper towels to clean up. I passed him a few, then wiped myself. I grabbed a panty liner, and pulled on my night-time panties, making sure we kept the bed clean. No need to be uncomfortable in the night. I took the towel off the bed, and accepted the dirty paper towels from him. I didn't turn up my nose, or act prissy about it. The wetness didn't bother me. It was a symbol of his love for me. 

I tossed the paper towels, washed my hands, and put the bath towel in the hamper. Then I laid down beside him, wearing only my panties, available to my man. I rolled onto my belly, to let him rub my back as he usually desired. I felt his hands on my flesh, and I trembled. He couldn't get enough of me. I couldn't blame him. I saw how men looked at me. But I was his, and only his.

- ( . Y . ) -

I was up at 5:30, less than seven hours sleep, but I didn't mind the lack of rest. It was the least I could do for him. Besides I'd probably have a nap later.

I took a quick shower, and donned my Saucony Ride 7s, the teal pair that matched my shorts. In the kitchen I packed a couple of Clif Shot Turbos, made sure my iPhone was fully charged and my playlist was ready. I had already picked up my packet from Run On! and was out of the door by 6:05. I met Marian and Lisa at the mall, and we drove together to the race. We were all Half-Fanatics. This would be my 20th Half Marathon in less than 9 months. It would make me a Mars. Next year I planned to go all out, getting in at least one a week. I loved the way it made me feel, to complete 13.1 miles, never stopping to walk, not once. 

It was a great day. I was only seven seconds off my personal best of two hours, two minutes, and 44 seconds. In spite of windy weather and rolling hills. I could barely wait to get home to tell my man. He'd be so damn proud of me.

We took a few group pictures with the other Half-Fans present, and then a sexy shot of just the three of us girls. It was funny how many men would pull out their own cameras for a pic of the hottest runners in the race. We even posed with a few of the guys, to make their day. 

After the run we were starving, so when we got to the mall we stopped in at Souper!Salad where we could stuff ourselves on healthy food. Then I hopped in my adorable Cooper Mini convertible with its custom coral paint job, shining like the inside of a sea shell. Since I was passing Auto Wash, I dug out my annual Wash-Pass. I was allowed unlimited washes for the year, so I might as well take advantage of it. I loved the fact that they had free Starbuck's coffee while I waited, and I could use their free Internet. I uploaded our race pictures to Facebook, and 'liked' Marian's, since she had beat me to it. I tried to look up my official time, but the results weren't in yet. While I was online I got a message about a run the following month. It was for fallen policemen and firemen. I loved running for a good cause, and signed up. It was only $110, and I didn't have anything scheduled that weekend. 

I arrived home a little before noon, riding high, but thoroughly exhausted. I was stripping off my clothing even before I was through the door. If Eddie next door was out and about, he might even have caught a little side-boob. I hoped his heart could handle it. I was naked by the time I caught my husband coming in from the backyard. I could smell the fresh grass. The sweetie had been mowing, keeping our lawn as beautiful as I kept the house. We were a well oiled team. 

I opened my arms for a hug, which was quickly forthcoming. "Love your running outfit, Honey," he teased.

I noticed I still had my running shoes on. Alright, I wasn't quite naked. I performed a little naked pirouette for him. "I know, right? I managed to come in first place in the men's division. Seemed like there was a big pack right on my heels."

"I'm surprised there wasn't another crowd in front of you, running backwards."

I gave him a warm kiss. "Two - oh-two - forty-four. Unofficial."

He gave me another big hug. "What's that, seven seconds off your PR?"

"God, you know me so well. No wonder I adore you so much." I gave him a quick peck. "I've got to shower. I'm a mess. See you in a bit."

After my shower and a short nap, I was feeling like a new woman. It only took me a few minutes to find something appropriate for my man. A naughty little thong, a teasing tennis skirt to match my fifth anniversary tennis bracelet, and my Rock & Roll Half Marathon shirt, which I'd removed the sleeves and collar from, and shortened the front by about six inches. It put my tits on display, a little treat for the one I loved.

- ( . Y . ) -

It was three-ish, when I made my way out of our bedroom. I was gonna look up my official time, but it was important that I find my baby first. It was Saturday, our day, and he needed to know I was at his disposal for the rest of it.

He was sitting in his favorite lounger, and I gave a playful squeal, and leaped into his lap. He caught me, tugging me close, kissing my neck playfully. It was so good to be in his arms, sitting in his lap. "All yours for the rest of the day, Bobby" I whispered. 

I was a little surprised at the look he gave me. He looked sad. I couldn't let that stand. "What's wrong? Something's wrong, isn't it? Tell me, baby."

He lifted me in his strong arms, and sat me on the couch. "Just a second," he said, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a wine cooler for me, and an Anchor Steam for himself. He had me worried. Someone must be sick. Sick or worse.

He sat next to me, and rubbed my bare thigh. "Honey, can we talk?"

"Of course, baby. Any time. About anything. I'm here for you."

"You know I love you, right?"

"I know. And I love you. What's wrong?"

"I mean, really love you. I adore you. I love being married to you. You're the most loving, caring, beautiful woman a man could ask for."

I had to grin a little. It was true. But then again, he was worth it. "And you're the best husband on the face of this earth."

His smile disappeared. "No, Honey. I'm not. I . . . I have a confession. I'm not happy."

Not happy? How could that be possible? It was the work. Had to be that damned work! They rode him too hard. Ground him down. I bet he wanted to change, but he was afraid I'd take it wrong. Didn't he know me better than that? I'd support him, in anything.

"You're too good for that job anyway. We have plenty in savings. If you want to look for a new job, I'm behind you one hundred and ten percent."

He gave me a sad little smile. "I wish it was my job. It's us. To be more precise, it's our sex life."

"Our sex life? What's wrong with our sex life? We make love all the time! More than anyone I know. Don't you find me attractive anymore? Don't I dress sexy for you?"

"No baby, it's not you. I mean, well, it kind of is, but it's not your fault. I love you, and I love making love to you. You're even more beautiful than the day I met you. I love our sex life." He hesitated. "The problem is, our sex is here," he motioned with his hand parallel to the floor, about a foot off the ground, "and I want it here." His hand was now about forehead high.

"You want more? Of course. Have I ever said no to you? Right now if you want. I'm yours, baby, you know that."

"No, Hannah honey, it's not the quantity, it's the quality."

I guess it took a while for me to understand what he was saying. "Quality? The quality? Are you saying I'm a bad lover? Is that it?"

"No, not bad, not really. You're just - how can I put this? - very limited."

I could feel the tears coming up, and there was no way I was going to be able to stop them. My man was unhappy, and it was my fault. I was a lousy lover. He wouldn't come right out and say it, but I could read between the lines.

"I can't believe you! Do you have any idea how many men want me? How many offers I get every day? Do you think that I give them even a second thought? No! A thousand men would kill to fuck me tomorrow, and my husband thinks I'm a lousy lay!" I couldn't hold the tears back any longer, and I felt his arms around me. A pity hug. He didn't want me. I tried to fight him off, but he wouldn't let me go.

"Calm down, Hannah. I love you. I love being your husband. I want to stay together, forever. I want to have beautiful little Hannah babies with you, and grow old side-by-side. I'm just being honest. It's the only thing missing from making me the happiest man in the world. Don't you want me to be honest with you? So we can fix things, make things better?"

I nodded. Of course he should be honest with me. We could fix this. I could fix it. He had to know that. I'd do anything for him.

He hugged me, kissed me, and brushed my tears away. When I was breathing normal again, he took my hands in his. "I have an idea how to improve things. It's a little radical, but I think it would be the easiest, fastest way to get us on the right track. Promise me you'll consider it, before you jump to any conclusions."

"Of course, baby. Whatever you want from me, whatever you need. I can be better for you. We can work this out, right?"

"I'm sure we can. No couple we know loves each other as much, right?"

I smiled. "No way. Not even close."

"And you'd never do anything to hurt me, just like I'd never do anything to hurt you, you know that, right?"

"You couldn't hurt me. I know you, baby. You wouldn't."

"That's right. Now I want you to close your eyes for me. I have a little surprise that I think might help. Just remember, I love you and would never, ever hurt you."

I closed my eyes, and felt his soft kiss on my lips. We could make this right. It was good to talk about it. Get it out in the open. It would only make us stronger, better in the long run. 

I had to wait a little bit, until he told me to open my eyes. When I looked up, it took me a few moments to realize what I was seeing. "Baby?"

"Hannah, this is Savannah. She's willing to help us."

There was a skinny little tramp standing next to him. Shit, the slut was barely clothed. Not much more body than a boy. Almost no tits, a flat ass, and boney. Not even very pretty. I mean, she wasn't ugly, but nowhere near as attractive as me. She had on cut-off jean shorts, and a plain white T-shirt. She looked like he'd found her at the trailer park. Then the stupid little whore smiled at me. 

"Help?" Crap, did my voice just squeak?

He let go of her hand, and came to me. "I thought that together we, she and I, could show you the things I like, the things I want to do, and you could see that it wasn't so bad, and maybe you could learn to do them too."

"She's nowhere near as pretty as me."

"Of course not," he said softly, looking back at her. "Nobody is."

"You . . . you don't love her do you? Are you having an affair, baby? Is that what's going on?"

I knew as soon as I said it, it was a mistake. His eyes hardened, and he pulled back. "Do you think I would ever cheat on you? EVER?"

I shook my head rapidly. "Of course not, I didn't mean it. But then why is she here?"

His shoulders slumped, and I could see I was disappointing him. He turned away from me. "I'm sorry, Savannah. This was a bad idea. I'll take you home now."

She just shrugged, then popped her gum.

"No, baby. Don't give up on us. I just need you to explain it to me. Please? I'm scared."

He stood, and took Savannah by the hand. "Can you give us a few minutes? Why don't you go sit on the porch?"

"Okey-dokey," she said and headed toward the back door.

He sat down next to me. "What don't you understand, Hannah honey?"

"You . . . you're going to make love to her, that's what you're talking about. I'm not good enough for you, and you're going to cheat on me with that, that, trailer trash!"

"Don't be stupid, Hannah. You're way too smart for that. You know I would never cheat on you, and there's no way in the world I'd ever make love to anybody but you."

"Then why's she here?"

"I told you. She gonna help me show you what I want, what I need from you. It's not love, it'll just be sex."

"You're replacing me!"

"Stop it!" 

My god, he was mad at me! He never yelled. Never. I shrunk back away from him.

He took my hand in his. "Did you look at her? Really look?"

I nodded.

"On a scale from one to ten, how would you rate her?"

I thought about it. "Six?"

"I was gonna say five, but six is a generous number. Now, on a scale of one to ten, how do you think I would rate you?"

That was easy. He told me all the time. "I'm an eleven."

He grinned, leaned forward and kissed me softly. "At the very least. I love you with all my heart, I try to show you every day. Do you think I love her?"

I had to shake my head. "She's just a kid, baby. I doubt you even know her. Not like you know me."

"Precisely. There's only one person I love, or who I'll ever love. You know what that person's name is, don't you?"




CuckQuean - Hannah, the Innocent



It was hard to suppress my grin. "Your Hannah Banana."

"So now, honestly, do you think I'm replacing you with her?"

When he put it that way, it was kind of obvious. "No."

He scooted forward. "This is for us. Please, try not to be mean to her. She knows she's not as pretty as you, doesn't dress as sexy, and she falls way short in comparison. She has to know I don't love her. Can you imagine how she must feel, standing there, comparing herself to you? How depressing and embarrassing that must be?"

I did feel kind of bad for her. Her clothes probably came from a thrift store. Her hair looked like it was cut with a butcher knife. She had no body to speak of.

"Are . . . are you even going to able to do it with her? I mean, stay hard? After me?"

He smiled, and his eyes lit up. "That's what I have you for. You'll be with us, while I show you. When I need you to help me, you'll be right there for me, won't you?"

"You really think this will help us?"

"I do, Hannah Honey. I think you can learn a lot, and it'll make everything that much better for us. Please. Let's give this a try. If it doesn't work, if I can't do it with her, we'll think of something else. It won't cost us anything but a couple of hours, alright?"

"I trust you baby. I guess I'm willing. If it bothers me too much, can we stop?"

"Of course. How about if our code word is scarlet? You say 'scarlet' and everything stops."

"Alright. Are we gonna do it now?"

"I thought we could, and get it over with. Then we can get rid of her, and you and I can have a nice dinner at L'Auberge, and talk it over. Later, if you're willing, we can see if it helped."

"L'Auberge? You have reservations?"

"I pulled a few strings, called in an IOU."

"I can say 'scarlet' anytime?"

"If it bothers you at all. Just don't be too mean to her, alright? I feel bad enough that we're using her like this. I . . . I want to ask you a little favor. You can say no."

"What?"

"Can you stay dressed? If she sees you naked, it might crush her."

I grinned. He was right. I might hang onto that idea if things got bad. "Alright baby. Is it Okay if I wear this?"

He nodded. "Why don't you go in the bedroom and wait for us? I'll be right in."

- ( . Y . ) -

I was anxiously sitting on the edge of the bed, when they entered the room. They were laughing, and my Bobby had his arm around the little skank's waist. I swear, I almost screamed 'SCARLET' then and there.

Now that I studied her more carefully, I noticed something he hadn't mentioned. She was like a poor man's version of me. She was tall, almost as tall as me. She had dirty blonde hair, not too much different in color from my streaked golden tresses. She had a narrow nose, and blue eyes like mine, if a little duller. She was skinny, where I was slender. Even her name was a poor imitation, Hannah/Savannah. My poor man. He'd tried to find a mini-me, and this was the best he could do?

The girl peeled off her shirt, baring tits that looked like they could still use a training bra. It was more obvious every second. She was no threat to me. Maybe she could help. 

Her shorts followed in short order, and then she was in his arms, kissing him. 

"Sca—" I caught myself. It was just a stupid kiss. I couldn't freak out yet.

That stupid kiss went on and on. I didn't know anybody could kiss that long. I craned my neck forward, trying to see what they were doing. Nothing really, just holding each other, mouths pressed together. When he pulled away, she was grinning. She started kissing his neck, his shoulders, as she unbuttoned his shirt. As more of his chest was exposed, her lips kept moving. I could see her tongue coming out a few times, licking him.

"I could do that." I didn't even realize I'd said it out loud, until I saw them both looking at me. He smiled, gave the skank a little kiss, and came over to me. "Could you? Could you undress me, tease me, lick and kiss me? Would you let me do that to you?"

I nodded. "We could try. I didn't think you'd like that."

"I'd love that, Hannah. This is good. God, I love you so much right now." He gave me a kiss, and he kept going. His tongue in my mouth, not just brushing my lips, but penetrating. It felt weird, big and wet. Then his tongue was gone, but his mouth was still open, pressed against mine. He wanted me to do the same. I get it. I licked the inside of his mouth, feeling the sharpness of his teeth, tracing his molars. His tongue rubbed mine, encircling it. I found myself breathing harder, excited. Like we were making love.

His lips closed, his tongue slipping away. I closed mine and he gave me a last peck. Then he looked at me nervously. "Okay?"

I had to grin. "I liked it."

He almost bowled me over with his big hug. "Do you have any idea how much I want you right now? This is going to be so good for us."

I leaned back and watched him go back to that girl who was observing us. It kind of weirded me out, the way she was looking at me. I hated when women looked at me like that. I like men. One man, to be precise.

The girl squealed in laughter, and I watched my man pick her up, and dump her on our bed. He put her on her back, and opened her legs. He got on his knees, between her legs. Oh my God! He was serious!

"You really want to do that?" I shrieked.

I felt bad as soon as I said it. I saw his shoulders droop, and he sat up and looked at me. "Of course I do. How many times have I offered?"

"I . . . I thought you were kidding. Really? You want to lick me there? Why?"

"Sit back, Hannah honey. Sit, and watch, and learn, Okay?"

Shit, he wasn't kidding. He had his head between her legs, his mouth pressed right up against it. And whatever he was doing, she looked like she was enjoying it. After a few minutes of her groaning and panting, I had to move a little closer. I laid down next to her, and got my head pretty near the action. He looked up at me, then moved his mouth away a little and I could see he was sticking his tongue out, rubbing her little nubbin. But it really wasn't all that little. It must have been about the size of the end of my pinky. I could feel her squirm next to me every time he sucked on it.

She was wiggling like crazy, all over the bed. It got to the point I had to hold her down a bit. Her head was brushed up against my legs, actually kind of between them. It was distracting. 

"You really like doing that?" I had to ask him.

Bobby gave her a long hard suck, and lifted his head. "I love it. I love that it excites her, and makes her horny. I love making her come for me."

Come, from that? I reached down and pushed her away. She must have been totally out of it. She was chewing on my panties, clinging to my leg. Sick. He was still going at her, using his fingers, his tongue, his mouth. I was surprised when a muffled cry came from between my legs. I pulled away, and she was smiling. "You liked it?" I asked.

"Damn, lady, what's wrong with you? Of course I liked it! How can you not?"

There was no way I could admit to her that I didn't, couldn't, know if I liked it or not. I knew I shouldn't like it. She sat up, and reached under my tennis skirt, tickling me down there. "Go sit and learn, Princess. I'm about to return the favor."

I scooted away, and watched her climb off the bed. She was yanking my man's pants down, and his thing was already hard. It looked angry. He glanced over at me and blushed. 

Skankannah knelt between his legs, and I realized what she meant by return the favor. "You're not serious!" I blurted.

He turned to me. "Hush. Just watch, alright? If it's something you can't do, well, we'll work on that. This is something I want."

She was licking him. Licking his hard shaft, even licking his balls! I watched in horror and wonder as she took one of them in her mouth, sucking on it, tugging on it. Damn if my man didn't moan. She kept going, licking and kissing her way to the top, then she put it in her mouth. The whole end of it, in her mouth!

She seemed to like doing it, and it was pretty obvious he loved it. Again, I had to sneak a little closer for a better view. She was all over that thing, bobbing up and down, licking and slurping. She pressed farther forward, and damn if almost the whole enchilada didn't disappear between her lips. He groaned and held her head. After a few seconds she pulled away, gasping, then laughing. "Liked that did you?" she teased.

"Oh, God, did I ever!"

She did it again, and again. Her hand was moving, stroking him, like I would, but her mouth was working too. It was messy, gross, her spit spilling over her hand. He didn't seem to mind. I moved a hair closer, getting a bird's eye view.

"Kiss me, Hannah. Kiss me now."

His eyes were on fire, watching me. I rose up and pressed my lips to his. Oh! He wanted that kind of kiss. His tongue was deep in my mouth, and I rubbed it with mine. I could hear him whimpering in his chest. Then he was moaning into my mouth. I knew that moan!

I looked down, and Skankenstein was grinning at me, with her lips around his cock. That was a pretty cool trick. She opened her mouth, and I could see his cum dripping around the head, spilling out of her mouth. She lowered her mouth quickly and slurped it up noisily, making him groan again. We were both watching her now. She opened her mouth, and I could see it was full of his stuff. She closed her mouth. Then she licked her lips and opened it. Empty! She had swallowed it. Oh my God. He couldn't want me to do that, could he?

I looked at him nervously, and he nodded, reading my mind. "That was incredible."

Crap. That chest kissing, the undressing, even the nasty open mouth kisses, I could do. I might even be able to let him lick between my legs, if he really wanted to. But that? 

Bobby kissed me softly. "Baby steps, Hannah Banana. We don't have to do it all at once."

Thank goodness. He was starting to scare me a little. I watched him close his eyes, and smile. I looked down, and Skankzilla was still sucking on him. "Gee, baby. You really like that don't you?" I asked.

He nodded.

Hmm. Maybe I could do a little of that. Just lick and suck a little. He looked like he enjoyed it. I continued to watch, and realized he liked it a LOT. He was getting hard again. Weird thing was, I was pretty sure she liked doing it too.

When he was about as hard as he gets, she sat up, wiping her mouth. "How do you want me, sugar daddy?"

"Anything but mish," he said.

I watched her stand up, grinning. "Why don't you lay back and get comfy then? Your dirty girl wants to take that big ol' hunk of meat for a ride."

Alright. I admit it. There was a ton I didn't know. But I was learning. Skankelina climbed up on his cock and dropped right down on it. She was like the Energizer bunny. She was bouncing all over the place, changing positions every few minutes, and just going crazy on him. I watched her make her little cries, scrunching up her face, riding him hard. "Another one," she gasped. "I want another one."

He laughed, holding her hips and pushing up into her hard and fast. It looked like it had to hurt, but her grunts didn't sound like she was in pain. She started doing her little whiny sound, and he grinned. "Come for me, baby girl. Come on Daddy's cock."

She squealed, and he laughed again, slapping her on the butt! Now I KNOW that had to hurt, at least a little. 

She was still shaking when he pushed her off of him. He wasn't even nice about it. He just pushed her over, put her on her belly, and lifted her hips up high off the bed. Then he was sticking his thing in her like a dog, from behind. She moaned, dropping her head to the bed, and I got to watch him pump in and out of her, like forever. He was swatting her butt again. Her hand reached out for my leg, and I scooted forward. That couldn't be very comfortable. I'd be mortified to be in her position. She put her head on my thigh, and I brushed her hair back, trying to soothe her. 

Suddenly he changed. He grabbed her hips in his hands, and pounded at her hard. Faster, almost a blur. Skankerella screamed out that she was coming, and my Bobby slammed up against her so hard it I could feel it. He looked fierce, beastly, as he growled, pushing up against her like he could somehow get in even deeper. When he finally backed off grinning, she stayed like that, ass up, tits down, legs open.

Instinctively, I got up to get him a washcloth. Passing behind her I could see everything. How red she was, swollen, and a trickle of his juices dripping out of her. I stopped, entranced. I felt the word, 'scarlet' bubbling up to my lips. He . . . he had sex with another woman. Not me.

He collapsed on the bed, with a big smile on his face. Then he turned to me, and his smile faded. "I'm sorry."

"Is that it? That's what you like? What you want? What's missing? You really like that?" I moved over and sat down next to him. 

"It's a start. I'd love it, if I could do it with you."

"All of it?"

"As much as you're willing.

"Gentle," he said.

"Gentle?" Then I noticed he was looking down the bed, and our very own Skankahontas was sucking his messy thing. What a disgusting little tramp.

She pulled her mouth off of him, and grinned at me. "You ready to give it a go, Princess? I could use the help."

I realized she was talking to me. "I . . . uh . . . maybe later . . ."

"Don't tease her, Savannah. I told you about that." I looked over, and I could tell he was mad. I cuddled up to him.

"It's Okay. I don't think she was really teasing me. You're not going to do it again, are you?"

"Would you mind very much?"

"Three times?"

He nodded, blushing. 

Wow. Three times. I didn't think that was possible. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Alright. But you're gonna owe me, buster."

He pulled me down and gave me another of those kisses. It was a long one, and I could feel a tingling in my belly. Maybe a little lower.

"Yeehaw! We have liftoff!" Skankizoid crowed.

I pulled away and looked down the bed. He was hard again. I gave him a look, and he grinned. "I love kissing you."

Alright. Maybe I laughed a little. I knew the truth. She could have sucked on him for an hour, but a couple of minutes kissing me put the lead back in his pencil.

This time, I paid more attention. I stayed close to the action, holding Skankadonna's head in my lap, as I watched about a dozen different ways to do it. How the hell he knew all this stuff was a mystery to me, but he put that tramp through the wringer.

He seemed to go on and on. He had never lasted like that, thank God! He must have been destroying her. I was quiet, observing patiently, trying to decide if I really could do some of those things. How far would I go to make him happy?

I knew the truth, as I held the moaning skank's head in my lap, soothing her, ignoring her efforts to chew through my panties, as the beast that had consumed my husband ravished her again and again. I'd do anything for him. Just like I knew he'd do anything for me. Including fuck a little slut, if it would make our lives better.

- ( . Y . ) -

We ordered the chateaubriand, and a nice cabernet sauvignon.

Over the escargot he finally brought it up. "Are you mad at me, Hannah Banana?"

I thought about torturing him a while, but I couldn't. I loved the man. And I knew the truth, he had done it for us. 

"No, baby. I admit it was a little scary, and I came close to saying our word a couple of times as the beginning, but I understand now."

"You know I love you, don't you? I would never hurt you."

I grinned. "I know. I'm proud of you, to be honest. You took a big chance but you trusted me. I think we both learned a few things from Savannah. You don't have feelings for her do you?"

"Not love. An appreciation, I guess. I'm thankful. She did what she needed, willingly."

"Willingly. No kidding. She looked like she enjoyed it even more than you."

"So . . . you think you might want to try a few new things?"

"Baby steps you said. Let's go slow, alright? If I get anything wrong, we can always have another lesson, right?"

He nodded, maybe a little too eagerly.

"I'm not sure I'd want it to be Savannah again. I think she might be falling for you."

He almost spit up his food, laughing. "Falling for me? The girl is ga-ga over you. That's all she could talk about when I took her home."

Jesus! Where had he found that little slut? Did I even want to know? I knew she was looking at me that way. When you look like I do, you learn to notice those things.

"I love you, Hannah. Thank you for trusting me."

- ( . Y . ) -

That week things started to change. He was all over me, everyday. Those big wet nasty kisses. I noticed that after enough of them, sometimes I didn't even need to help him get hard.

I opened up for him. Not all at once, it was a little difficult for me, but I tried. I undressed him, touching his body, kissing his chest. Before I could even finish, he had me on my back, driving his cock into me. Yeah, he liked that.

On Wednesday, when he came home, I left a little note pointing him toward the bedroom. I was waiting for him, naked in our bed. I felt like a total sleaze as I rubbed between my legs. "I thought you might like a little appetizer before dinner."

I thought he was going to break his neck getting to me. He was still fully dressed, climbing between my legs, spreading them. Then he paused. "Are you sure, Hannah, love? I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

Was I sure? Hell no. I was scared to death. "I want you to, Bobby. Lick me."

Then his mouth was on me, doing terrible, naughty things. I could feel every little action like it was magnified. He was moaning, while he licked and sucked on my dirty parts.

I hate to say it, but it felt good. Real good. I found myself whimpering, clutching the sheets. I mean it felt fantastic! He looked up at me, and licked me long and slow, his tongue sticking out longer than any tongue had a right to. I moaned, a little surprised at myself. God, the way that man loved me. What he would do . . . 

That moan must have set him off. He was like a starving animal, eating me alive. A burning feeling was building down there, growing, spreading, getting stronger.

"Come for me, Princess," he whispered. Then his mouth was on me again, sucking at my little button, his tongue teasing, torturing. 

I felt a shriek escaping my lips as I lost control of my body, shaking, trembling, bursts of painful pleasure shooting up my spine. My whole body was cramping, and then it was over, and I collapsed on the bed.

When I knew what was going on, he was on top of me, kissing my face. Still clothed, he'd managed to free himself, and I could feel his hardness easing in and out of me. 

I saw tears in his eyes, and my heart broke for him. I reached up to that handsome face, caressing his cheek. "Oh, Bobby," I sighed.

"Thank you, Hannah. God, I've wanted to do that to you for so long."

"You liked it? Doing that to me? It wasn't . . . nasty? Dirty? I tried to clean up for you—"

"I loved doing that for you. It was amazing, the way your body responded. The way you came for me."

I could feel myself blushing, and wrapped my legs around his, like I'd seen her do. He grinned. I felt him reach back to touch my legs, almost as if to reassure himself that I was really doing that.

"I want to be what you need, baby," I whispered. "Be patient with me, alright?"

He nodded, but I knew he could barely hear me. He had that look, the fire. He was leaning over me, his hips moving fast and hard. He looked scary. He laid down on me, holding me tightly, and he was pounding into me harder than ever before. I groaned, trying to adjust a little.

"Hannah," he gasped, and then he was filling me. Fucking and filling me. I held him, kissing his head, caressing his hard body, the way that little tramp did. He looked up at me, his nose flaring as his chest heaved, breathing hard.




CuckQuean - Hannah, the Innocent



I held that handsome face in my hands and kissed him. One of those new kisses he loved so well. "I love you."

He kissed me back, and his hips were moving again. My god, he was still hard, or newly hard, I don't know. Either way, he was hard for me, pumping into me. He seemed so happy, so excited. It felt great to know I could do this for him. I was feeling a little brazen. I pushed him up a bit, and he gazed back at me, a little sad, maybe? Confused.

I gave him a wink, and pulled my legs back, holding them behind the knees.

His eyes bugged out and he grabbed the back of my legs, pushing them back, and then he was on top of me, doing his best to drive my body right through the bed. It was incredible. I'd never felt anything like it. It felt different, better. I was hypersensitive, feeling each thrust. Something was building inside of me, a tension, just out of reach. So hard. He was fucking me so hard. I could hear my own little grunts, and suddenly the feeling changed. I was burning, shaking, aching. "Come," he growled. The beast was back. "Come, damn you. Come for me."

I moaned as I felt the dam burst inside of me. "Bobby!" I gasped, as the tendrils of wicked pleasure tore through my loins. The world seemed to fade, collapsing in on my feelings. My man grunted, and filled me again, so sweetly. 

He was looking down into my eyes, smiling. "You came for me. You had an orgasm."

I nodded, shamefully. I had lost control.

His lips were on mine. Not that nasty kiss. This one was soft, tender, loving. "I'm so happy right now," he whispered, hugging me.

And that's what it was all about after all. He was happy. I'd made him happy. I was even feeling pretty good myself, if not more than a little bit guilty. Good girls didn't do that. They didn't enjoy it like that.

I guess that for Bobby, and the sake of my marriage, I wasn't going to be a good girl. At least not for my man.

- ( . Y . ) -

My next run was two weeks later on a Saturday, only a 10K. It started a little later, and I was home before ten. My man was working in his study, whistling. I knew he was happy. We both were, more than ever.

I took my shower, and when I came out he met me with a hug. I got a big kiss. "I've got a surprise for you," he whispered. He dried my body with a towel, then put my robe on me. He guided me into our bedroom. 

It was a surprise alright. A tiny little naked redhead in our bed. She was grinning at me.

"Bobby?" I whispered.

"Another lesson, Hannah."

Another one. But things were going so well. Why would he need another one? "Aren't you happy now?"

He took me in his arms. "I've never been happier. You've been happier too, right?"

I had to admit it was true. "Yes."

"That weekend was wonderful for us. You know it was. And you've already changed. Our love life is so much better. But don't you think it could get even better?"

"Baby steps, you said. You said we'd take baby steps."

This one was cuter. Different. Maybe not as young, but definitely prettier. And so different, smaller, bigger tits, rounder ass. And that flaming red hair. I leaned forward whispering into his ear. "She's pretty."

He laughed. "On a scale of one to 10?"

"Eight." Maybe even a nine, but I was afraid to confess that.

He nodded. "And you? Hannah? Seriously."

I had to smile a little. He swore with my new adventuresome ways, I was a twelve now.

"I can say 'scarlet'?"

"Any time. This is for us. I want you to be comfortable."

I'm not going to say I was comfortable, but it was interesting. The girl was wild, and flexible. She could do the splits on him, and could tuck her feet behind her head. 

"Doesn't that hurt?" I asked her, when she tucked her second leg underneath her arm and shoulders. It looked so nasty. Like she was nothing but a hole for him to use.

"A little. It's worth it, to see how it affects him." She smiled for me, reached out and held my hand.

Erin was nice. She talked to me. What she was doing, and why. How it felt. She didn't try to feel me up or chew my panties like Savannah. Good thing, 'cause fresh out of the shower, I wasn't wearing any. Just a robe, and about half an hour into it, not even that.

She was different how she sucked him too. Not so nasty. It was more loving. I watched closely, and she grinned for me. "You want to try?"

I shook my head. Still too early for that. 

"Come on, Hannah. Just a little kiss. He'd love that."

She talked me into it. I kissed the head of his cock, and it jumped. I heard him moan. I looked up and it was there, the fire. "He's gonna go crazy now," I warned her.

I was right. Man, oh man, he fucked her hard!

She was exhausted by the third time, and I cuddled up to her, rubbing her shoulders. She sighed and leaned back against me. Bobby was straddling her one leg, her other one up on his shoulder, his thing in perpetual motion, in and out, in and out.

I kissed her cheek. "Thank you for doing this for us. I . . . I learned a lot."

She grinned and squeezed my hand. "I was nervous. You, you're so beautiful."

"You're beautiful too, Erin."

I moved so Bobby could readjust her body, before giving it to her some more. Nothing to watch, really. He'd done this one a lot. She was on her back, and I just looked at her. She looked so sexy, completely open to him, willing to do anything. Her nipples were hard. I had to touch one, to see if it felt as hard as it looked. She gasped, her back arching, and I knew she was coming again.

God, that was naughty. I touched another woman's titties, and it made her come.

I was becoming a bad girl. A very bad girl. But only for my man.

- ( . Y . ) -

I grew more adventurous. We did it on the couch! I thought he was going to go insane. I know we broke at least a couple of the springs. I let him move my legs around more, holding them open, even putting my ankles on his shoulders. 

I wouldn't be exaggerating if I said he told me he loved me at least a dozen times a day. 

One night we did it three times, and I came for him again. He really likes that. I'll admit, I don't hate it, but I still feel a little guilty afterward.

I had a 5K Saturday, and I was feeling nervous. I wanted to ask him if there would be any more surprises, but things were going so well, I didn't want to mess things up. I had butterflies in my stomach when I got home.

Entering the house, I was sniffing around, looking for strange perfume. My eyes darted about, hunting for a strange purse, a coat.

My man came up to me, and gave me a hug. "I bet you're hungry. You didn't even stop to eat afterwards, did you?"

He knew me so well. "No. I . . . I guess I was worried you might have another surprise for me."

He came me one of the sweet kisses. Gentle. "Go clean up. I'm making lunch. Don't dawdle."

I scampered off to the bathroom. It wasn't even ten a.m., and we had the whole day together. Just Bobby and me.

I was shampooing my hair, when another set of hands joined mine. "Hi, Hannah. Need some help?"

I knew that voice. I cracked one eye, and a little naked redhead was in the shower with me. "Erin?"

She guided me under the showerhead, running her fingers through my hair. "I wanted to talk to you," she said, "and I asked Bobby to give us some time alone. I don't want to interfere. If you don't want me here today, I'll go."

"Is it another lesson?"

She nodded, soaping up my body, her hands moving softly, touching me. "I'm going to spend a lot of time sucking him. He really wants you to do that. He's crazy for it. But if you're not going to, then I don't think we should."

I let her turn me around, soaping up my back, and my bottom. "It's not that I don't want to Erin. I . . . I think I'll be able to build up to it in time. But I need to do it in my time. Baby steps, he promised."

Her hands slid over my body, rinsing the soap away. I felt her lips press against my shoulder. "Then I think it's a good idea, if you're willing. The more you see it, the more you'll grow used to it. It's not a bad thing, Hannah."

"You like doing it."

She nodded, turning me around again, standing close, our bodies touching. "I like the feeling I get while doing it. How I'm in control, driving him crazy, making him feel so good."

"He does seem to like it."

"Most men love it. You know it would drive him crazy if you did it. He might actually lose his mind. You'll have to be careful, or we'll be feeding him babyfood, and rolling him around in a wheelchair, when you're done with him."

It was a funny image. I laughed. And then she kissed me. On the lips. Not the dirty kiss, though. "I'll work with you, Hannah. Baby steps. Just a little at a time. Maybe a couple of more of those kisses you did. A tiny lick or two. That's all."

Alright, it was more than that. Not a lot more, but it was a start. As soon as we finished eating, right there at the table, she climbed between his legs and started. I watched, studying her. She was a little nastier with this one, and he obviously liked it. She stayed with it all the way until he was done. She even let him finish in her mouth, but she didn't make the big production of it that Savannah had.

We moved to the bedroom, and he did the same for her, licking and sucking until she had a couple of little orgasms. Now that I knew, it was obvious. I think he really did like doing it, but what he really got off on was making her come. 

Then we got comfortable, and I got to watch her suck him again. Even after he got hard, she sucked him for a long time. She was chatty on that one, telling me what to do, how to do it. She got me to help a little. I wasn't planning on much, but I was feeling naughty. I kissed it, a few times. Then I stuck out my tongue, and licked the whole length of it real slowly.

The mistake was doing it again. I just got to the top when he gasped. Then the damn thing was going off, squirting a couple of times, before his cum started to just bubble over, making a mess of everything.

Erin laughed at me, then leaned forward and licked my chin and mouth. "You made a mess there, Hannah. I guess he really liked that."

I had to smile. No kidding. She sucked him for ten minutes. Two licks from me, and he went off.

She got a washcloth and we cleaned him up. It was nice, laying there, my man between us, while we talked. I was feeling especially naughty, after getting him to shoot like that. I moved down between his legs, looking at it more carefully. It was soft, but as soon as I touched it, I felt it start to stiffen. I looked up at him and was really brazen. I licked him, long and slow, then put my mouth over the top. I kissed the tippy-top, then opened my lips, sucking on the end. A few more little licks and kisses, and he was almost ready. 

It took a lot of courage, but I opened my mouth wide, and took the whole head in my mouth. I ran my tongue over it, feeling how big it was, how soft the skin was. He was about as hard as he gets. I gave him one more long look, then looked up at Erin. "Show me how to do it on top."

His groan was enough to let me know I was doing the right thing.

She was fun to watch. I cuddled up to my man, hugging him, asking questions. What he preferred, why, how it felt. I talked to her a little too, to get her perspective. It was obvious she really liked being on top. She came for him a lot that way.

When they were done, I got the washcloth to clean them up. Then we hung out in bed a while, cuddling with her between us. She's a naughty little thing, and she latched onto my tit for a while. Bobby's eyes almost popped out of his head. I giggled, and encouraged her, for him. Like I said, I'm becoming a bad girl.

- ( . Y . ) -

I don't know why I couldn't suck him, or even do too much alone. I was trying. We did it with me on top twice in the following few days. He gave me four orgasms that week. He was bragging about it. 

The sex was good, but even better was the love and affection. He was always so happy, in such a great mood. He couldn't keep his hands off me. He was calling me for no reason, just to hear my voice. 

Erin wasn't a surprise on Saturday. It was planned. She stayed over, and by Sunday afternoon, I'd managed to suck him a few times, almost like her. 

It was funny, I loved to watch her with him. She was so cute, and he got so excited. Erin was nice to me, always, considerate. We started sharing a few more kisses. It was pretty obvious she wanted me, but that was something I REALLY wasn't ready for.

As for me and Bobby during the week? I don't think any two people could be any happier. And yes, the quality of our sex life was getting better, slowly but surely.

- ( . Y . ) -

I guess I have to take some of the blame. I had never told him about the Fallen Hero Half, and I was out of the house before he was up. It was over an hour away, and it started a little later than most of them. Marian was with me on that one, and we got to chatting. 

It might be a little hard to understand, but I never had too many women friends. I'm told it's a common problem, when you're as beautiful as I am. I know I keep saying that, and I probably come off conceited, but it's not like that. I've got a beautiful face, symmetric features, full shining hair. A big perfect smile, thanks to three years of orthodontia. Big blue eyes that men tell me are the most beautiful they've ever seen. I'm tall, statuesque, with full, firm 35C breasts, and a rock hard ass. My legs have great definition from all the running. 

Believe me, I'm gorgeous, and I guess it's intimidating to a lot of women. Marian understood, she was damn near as pretty as me. Not naturally, but with the full warpaint on, she was a stunner. I also think that's why Erin and I get on so well. She's pretty, but more, she's not threatened by me, and we can talk so easily.

Back to the fact of the matter. Marian and I chatted, and I ended up dumping my life on her. I waited for her to say something about it, how sick I was, warped, wimpy, whatever. It was funny, she said nothing like that. She seemed to take it very seriously.

"Is it working? Is he happier? Are you happy, Hannah?"

That was the essential point, wasn't it? "The happiest ever, Marian. Both of us. Am I screwed up or what?"

"Screwed up? Hardly. Sounds like you have a great life, and a man who loves you, who's honest with you and who tries to communicate. You've got a new friend who's helping make your life even better, as if that's fair. Honestly, girl, I don't know what you're bitching about. It sounds to me like you've got it made."

"But he's having sex with another woman! I let him, I even watch!"

"And you love it, he loves it, it makes your marriage stronger, and the sex is better than ever. You even got a new friend out of it. Shit, I'm just pissed you didn't invite me to work with you."

"You?"

"Why not? We're friends, right? You know I'm not seeing anyone seriously. I love great sex. From the sounds of things, Bobby's pretty good at it. Sure. I would have been perfect."

She had a point. I didn't know how much longer we'd need Erin's help. But if anything changed, and he wanted to find someone else to work with us, maybe I'd suggest Marian.

Then again, maybe not. Marian was too damn good looking. Wealthy. Funny. She could be a real threat. Especially if she was half as good in bed as she claimed.

Rainstorms delayed the start, and I had a pretty miserable run, almost seven minutes slower than my PR. I was soaked to the bone, and exhausted, and we still had an hour long drive back to the mall. We were starving, and stopped to eat, adding another hour to our journey. By the time I got home, it was after three in the afternoon. I was zonked, and all I wanted to do was clean up and take a nap.

Someone beat me to it. The light of my life, the man of my dreams, my Bobby, was asleep in our bed with Erin, and another woman. She was black, and naked. Hell, they all were naked.

I slammed the door shut. "What the fuck, Bobby! When did you start cheating on me? Who is that slut, and why is she naked in our bed!" I turned on Erin, screaming. "I thought you were my friend, Erin. Why would you do this to me? Why?"

They were scrambling, and the new girl looked scared to death, hiding behind the bed, trying to get dressed. Erin got out and was trying to say something. "NO! No excuses. Just get out, Erin. Go!"

Bobby finally got untangled from the sheets, and he was trying to grab me. "Don't! Don't touch me, you liar. You said it was for us. That you would never cheat!"

"Stop, Hannah. It's not what you think," he said calmly, reaching out for me.

I pushed his hands away and slapped him. "Not what I think? I SAW you. Found you with your little naked harem. I'm not stupid, Bobby."

He finally trapped me in the corner, I tried to push him away, but he got his arms around me. "Hush, Hannah. Calm down. Nothing happened. We were waiting for you. You're normally home from your races before noon. I guess we fell asleep."

"I'm supposed to believe that? You were in bed with those two, naked, and nothing happened."

Erin was peeking over his shoulder. "It's true, Hannah. We didn't do anything but cuddle and chat. Not even any kisses. We wouldn't cheat on you."

I couldn't stop the shaking, or the tears from falling. "Who is she? Why is there another woman in our bed? I'm not enough, so now you have to bring in TWO women?"

The new girl was standing there, mostly dressed, her shoes in her hand. I think she would have been gone, but I was blocking the door. "That's Janelle. We were going to try something different today."

"Different, so you had to bring in someone new? You didn't even talk to me about it. Why someone new, Bobby? Why couldn't it just be you, me and Erin."

Erin had managed to get close, and was rubbing my back. "I don't do anal, Hannah. I don't like it."

"Anal?"

"You know, butt sex. I don't like it, and Bobby's awfully big for that. Janelle loves it, so we thought she could help. I swear, Hannah. We didn't cheat. We didn't do anything. I wouldn't do that to you."

Butt sex? That's what he wanted? What was it going to be next? Midgets? Circus clowns? Trapezes? Farm animals? What the fuck?

Bobby loosened his grip on me a little. "Listen, Hannah, I'm sorry. We probably should have waited for you before getting undressed. We just wanted to make it a little surprise. I guess I screwed up. I'm sorry."

"You want to stick your thing in my butt!?"

He turned bright red. "It's something I wanted to try. I've never done it. I might not even like it. But it's something I've thought about a lot."

Erin leaned against me. "It's not that weird. A lot of couples do it. It's just that I don't like it. Maybe I'm too small, I don't know. One try was enough for me, three years ago. Never again."

I turned to the new girl. "You like that? In the butt?"

She nodded, still looking terrified.

Sex in the butt. This was getting to be too weird. "I need a shower, Bobby. Get everybody dressed. We'll talk when I'm done."

I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Erin joined me in the shower after a few minutes. "You hurt my feelings, Hannah. Bad. I thought we were friends. You should know that I'd never cheat on you, or let him cheat on you. I wouldn't do that."

"I came home to my husband with two naked women in our bed, Erin. What was I supposed to think?"

She had the natural sponge out, soaping it up, before scrubbing me. "I know it looks bad, but you should have trusted us. Trusted your man. You know he wouldn't do that to you. You went crazy, without even asking us what was going on."

"This is hard for me, Erin. Sharing my man. Watching him be with someone else. With you, I can stand it. But he shouldn't be bringing in other women. That's not right."

"Maybe you're right. He wasn't going to do anything with her, not like we do. He was just going to fuck her ass for a while, to see if it's something you guys might want to do some day."




Cuckqueaned by Hubs and Katie



I heard the keys in the door and felt the rush of wetness in my panties. David is home- with Katie. She laughs when the door opens and she sees me kneeling with a ball gag in my mouth and nothing on except a steel chastity belt. David walks over and pulls the gag out of my mouth, and pets my head, caressing my hair. 

"Have you been a good girl?" he asks. 

"Yes, sir." I respond. 

"Are you excited for your reward?" he asks. 

I nod. I was not allowed to cum in a long time so I was hoping this reward would include my orgasm. Usually, I am allowed to cum once every Sunday. Ever since David told Katie about my cuckquean fetish, she wanted to play a role in restricting my orgasms. So I am now only allowed to cum when she was fucking David, my husband. So since she's over on a Friday night, I am assuming this is one of the nights I get to cum. 

David and Katie are laughing in the kitchen. He bends down to get some beer, and Katie spanks his ass. I get turned on just watching. But also at the humiliation of being forced to watch. My horny cunt is dripping, lubricating the chastity belt. 

Katie walks over to me and stares at me, laughing. "How long has she been in the chastity belt?" Asking no one in particular. 

"1 week" I answer. I get more horny from being treated as subordinate to my husband's girlfriends. 

She walks over to inspect the belt and bursts out laughing when she sees that I have leaked out of the cage I am wearing because I am so incredibly horny from being denied orgasm for a full week. "David- look at how horny your wife is! This is so funny!"  

"We'll let her out of the cage when we're done fucking." David yells from the kitchen. 

Katie walks back to the kitchen and slowly unbuttons David's pants. She puts his hard cock in her mouth and turns and looks at me- smiling- with his cock still in her mouth. What a tease. He lifts her tiny body and carries her to the couch. Where he proceeds to fuck her. This is all a blur. My pussy is literally soaked. 

"Come here, slave" Katie summons me. I walk there on my hands and knees, feeling how slippery the chastity belt is against my swollen cunt. "Be a footrest" she commands, then giggles. 

"she's very into feet" David says on my behalf. Katie immediately shoves her feet into my mouth, and I graciously lick her feet like the kinky slut wife that I am. 

My pussy is throbbing from being treated like a sub wife by my husband and his girlfriend. I can hear the pumping noise of his cock and her superior pussy. Watching his slippery cock pump in and out of her swollen and dripping cunt. David stops and takes her panties off completely, then balls it up and shoves it in my mouth. I loved being gagged so I start salivating and moaning into my husband's girlfriend's dirty panties. Katie lifts her feet and shoves it in my face so I can smell the soles of her feet pungently. She starts rocking back and forth faster and faster as David pumps in and out of her, and I can hear her screaming "I'm going to cum!!" into David's ear and echoing through our loft apartment. David starts pumping faster and faster, grunting, and I can tell he is about to cum. Katie pulls him closer and whispers "Cum inside me, David" and I am horny out of my mind from being denied and forced to watch this. David grunts "I'm cumming, Katie" and spills his load inside her freshly fucked cunt. 

Katie laughs and summons me "come clean up after your husband like a good slave" and I start lapping at her fucked cunt because of how horny and desperate I am. I taste the bitter saltiness of his cum and the sourness of her fluids. David comes up behind me and starts to unlock my chastity belt. 

Snap. 

He slowly takes off the belt and both him and Katie start laughing at how wet and swollen my cunt is from being denied. "HAHAHAHA" Katie bursts out laughing uncontrollably. "She is so wet!!" 

David comes over and puts his hand on my swollen labia and I almost cum immediately. But I try to hold it to the best o my ability. If I cum without permission, it immediately turns into a ruined orgasm, and I will not be given the chance to cum until much later. He takes his fingers off my soaked cunt, and licks my juices from his fingers. 

"In which humiliating manner would you like to cum today?" He smiles at me. He knows I am on edge from being denied and humiliated, and anything could make me cum in seconds. I have been told to hump various things in the apartment after being unbelted. These objects range from large to small: coffee tables, couches, the floor, kitchen utensils, or the hottest, other girl's clothes that they leave or forget at our place after having a good fuck with my husband. 

"We should make her hump a stuffed animal until she cums!" Katie screams. Katie is fond of the idea that I like to be humiliated. But maybe she was feeling generous today, a stuffed animal would feel so plush against my clit. I secretly thank her, but it's also because I am so horny humping anything sounds good. 

"Here, slave." She hands me a large stuffed bear. "Hump this until you cum and when you start cumming bark like a dog." She laughs. Her cruelty is such a turn on I can feel myself dripping down my legs like the horny slut that I am. 

"Yes, ma'am." I say with my mouth still gagged with Katie's dirty panties, so it sounds more like "efff aaa". She laughs. 

I start humping the stuffed bear on the floor, feeling completely humiliated. My cunt juices start dripping all over the stuffed doll and the fur is matted by my wetness. I moan loudly; my cunt is so horny it is on fire. I hump and hump until I feel close to cumming, and it has only been a few seconds. Humiliated, I start barking like a dog but my barks are muffled by the panties. 

David and Katie watch me while they are laughing. Their laughter and the humiliation is pushing met to the edge. My cheeks are red, my cunt is dripping so much since I am such a horny slut for this kind of degrading treatment. I feel the pressure in my cunt and know I am about to cum. I bark louder to show them that I am cumming "ARRFF, ARRF, ARFFF" And they come over, laughing, while kicking my pussy. The orgasm is so intense I start convulsing on the floor. When my orgasm subsided, Katie rubs her feet, wet from my cum fluids, on my face. I lay there enjoying all of this. 

Then Katie says "Back on with the chastity belt! Now go get some beers for us." 

I feel my face burn as I was forced to orgasm while humping a stuffed animal while my husband's girl gets to enjoy his delicious cock. But I loved it, and need it to continue. So because of that, I walked up to get them beers.