4 comments/ 17918 views/ 19 favorites You Don't Deserve My Pussy By: B_Couric A cuckold story, not particularly extreme, more about the head-game than the sex. A hard working salary-man's wife and annoying boss are attracted to each other. The story is less about the potential sexual relationship between the boss and wife, and more about the couple discovering how to enjoy each other erotically. Some sexual humiliation. Five years ago this would be in Loving Wives. My apologies to those looking for more traditional kinky stuff. You are good people over here. I encourage you to vote and comment. ***** Part One Why do I stay with her? I know what other guys would say. I know, I know - I can't explain it. I've always loved her and despite what you'll read, my life with her is complete in every way. I'm not going to bore you with details about our history, how we joke, how we came from similar backgrounds. But even sexually, I'm very pleased. We both worked in a financial consulting firm. The mentality of the staff at our firm is similar to others in the industry. We pride ourselves on working hard, providing a good and needed service for society, and hope to one day make Partnership. This means that new college graduates show up on day one, finely dress, ready to take on the world, finally getting the chance to play the adult role in life. The company subtly brainwashes us, pointing out that Blah Blah magazine rated our company a Top 10 place to work in America! Did I mention we lived in Vancouver? The brochures show cleanly scrubbed and photoshopped groups of all the races and creeds and handicapped backgrounds dressed in their finest duds laughing and standing around in office environments worldwide. You get the picture, modern bullshit. I'm not even saying it's bad, but when you're slaving away, 70 hours a week, starting at $50k a year, your friends and family see a hard working well paid guy, maybe even a little snooty for them, while I'm clearing a sweet $13 an hour, before taxes are taken out. It doesn't stay like this forever, the wages go up, if you produce. They don't really fire too many people. You can be a total asshole and that wouldn't really be a problem. No, what those companies do is they either mold you or they break you. They break lots of people. But our company pats them on the back and gives them a box of kleenex and they have a going away party. They try to remain on good terms. They invite them to alumni functions and ply them with free food and drink. You'd be surprised how many of those people later become clients. They end up hiring the firm, and suddenly a new army of slaves comes in and the former worker is the king. Circle of life, right? Tons of people, great people, throw up their hands after a few years of this shitty treatment and head out to work "in industry" as they call it. It's like the military calling everybody else the "civilian" world. Even if only a fraction are great customers later in life, it works for everybody. In retrospect I wonder if they were the smart ones. Now, why would people stay? Some people can't be fully brainwashed. There are benefits. If you can stick it out long enough to be manager, you can probably get a fantastic job. My company looks great on resumes! It's prestigious and hard to get a job there to begin with. And the money does begin to creep up. If you stick around my company for say, ten years, you'll be a senior manager, you'll get paid in the low six figures. So you seem to have gotten a great ramp up in salary. Of course, 70 hours a week, 56 weeks, $100k, that's $26 bucks an hour. But that's a lot of hours. If you become numb to the factors that create burnout, if you devote yourself to the company, ignore your family, hell, never START a family, because really, why bother, than you are on your way to Partnership. That starts in the low $300's. That's serious money any way you look at it and the responsibilities are demanding, but different, and you're more of a boss. People kiss your ass. Most don't know you had to take out a $200k loan to buy your stake. The loan, helpfully, is given to you by the company. So if you run all that, and don't have a heart attack, by the time you are in your late 30's you are buying a BMW and planning to buy a house in the whitest suburb around. Of course, as elderly parents your kids are prone to grow up to be drug addicted country club bums, but that's another rant. If you survive, everybody is happy in the end, or so we hope. It's a perverted version of the American dream, but it happens in Canada too, because in English speaking North America there are literally a million different ways for a smart, hard working person with a little luck to make enough to live in that suburb with that nice car, without croaking early from stress related disease. This is a hell of a way to start an erotic tale, I know, but you need to know the context, the background. If I told you this story and all I said was "my boss wanted to bang my wife," well, pretty quickly you'd think it was some white trash fairytale where Tammy bangs his boss at the grocery store where he works. No, this was in an high stress, office environment. I wanted my job, I thought I loved it. I met my wife on the job. We were both going through the same bullshit, working the same hours, and after dating for a couple years, marriage seemed attractive and logical. We'd be D.I.N.K.S., dual income, no kids. She's older than me by six months, we even joke about me marrying an older woman. At parties we'd say she's the cougar, rawr! We actually had different managers depending on the client. There was one guy, I'll call him Rob Brown. I'm Brian and my wife is Rachel. Rob was the biggest dick, but you wouldn't know it until he stabbed you in the back. He was a natural salesman, a schmoozer. When you first meet him you think he's fantastic, he says all the right thing to the client. Then you realize when he says ALL the same shit to every client. Everything they have is great. He really admires how they planned their office layout. In office A, cubicles by the Admin Assistants? Very smart, they are the conduits of the company to the lower staff. In office B the Admin Assistants sit by the executive staff? Of course, why either of them off their core tasks? Oh, you run only Macs? Great choice, very secure! Windows based computing? That's the way to go, everybody uses that. We have consultants who can help with all your business planning, have a seat. This steak is fantastic! Yes, I've seriously considered being a vegetarian, it's quite healthy. Blah blah blah. He's full of crap, but he always has a smile and a handshake and he's a handsome guy. When Rob became Partner at age 34, the more harmful, darker side to his character emerged. He turned into a petty Lord, most especially at first as the power went to his head, although to his credit he did improve. Perhaps people complained to HR. My wife and I actually made fun of him behind his back. Sure, from our perspective we initially admired his abilities, he was on our side, our team, but we soon heard stories from friends who left the firm. Rob was inappropriate with Jennifer. Rob disrespected Will, demanding he work instead of dealing with family issues. Rob called up a client where Eric wanted a job and told them not to hire him because of some petty beef. We realized Rob was a power hungry asshole. When my wife Rachel turned 29, the clock was ticking and we had our first child. Suddenly her career became secondary. The spell of the company hadn't been broken, but family became a real priority. The sad fact was, although we were married, we only saw each other evenings and on the weekends. Our sex life was okay, not stellar. At first my wife tried to take a few months off, which the firm encouraged, and then she tried to come back with a flexible schedule. It worked okay, but wasn't great, and definitely pushed back promotions and career development for her. So we started to think about what would happen if we had two children, like we'd always dreamed. Fuck it, we thought, let's just cut Rachel loose from the rat race, let her be the homemaker, and I'd bring home the bacon. By now we'd save enough for a down payment on a decent home, and that's what we did. Then Rachel was pregnant again at 31. Honestly, things became better in so many ways, worse in others. The bad parts were temporary though. Having kids is physically demanding, lack of sleep and freedom being the main setbacks. If you're not used to kids, it can be depressing to babysit 24 hours a day. There was another bad part. Now that she was no longer working, she lost her identity a little bit. This, combined with hitting her 30's was taking something of a toll on her. One night after sex she confided to me that she wondered what life would have been like if she didn't marry me. She even mentioned that she really found Rob Brown attractive, and confessed to me that one night at a client off site meeting, she had given him a blowjob. This was right as we started dating, and I'd even known at the time that something might have happened, so I wasn't upset when she confirmed it all these years later. Keep in mind their dalliance occurred when Rob was more respected in our eyes. He was already a manager by then, and he'd gotten his dick sucked by this hot female subordinate, but really, it wasn't as bad as it sounds. We're not the PC police. She was playing the what if game, and I wanted her to get her frustration out and not be a jerk to her. I love Rachel, and would do anything for her. What really pleased me is she admitted he'd pursued her after this, but she had inklings of his character and thought it better to be with me. Still, I despised the fucker now. One evening a few months later I was in a hotel bar with Rob and a bunch of other team members. Rob was there and we were all having drinks and as I'm getting more buzzed it gets into my head that perhaps I can tease Rob a little bit, let him know I was aware of his dalliance with my wife, maybe rub it in that she's mine. I waited patiently to make a move. At some point it was down to just four of us sitting at one of those high tables in the bar, and a couple of the guys excused themselves to use the restroom. I opened my big mouth. Out of nowhere I told him I knew about how he chased Rachel years before. He locked his eyes on me, and before I'd finished he was grinning. He liked the story. I don't know why, I didn't really expect that. "Yeah, Rachel still talks about me, huh?" implying he was still the man, "She's a great woman, you are very lucky." "Thanks," I said, befuddled. I don't know, I was expecting to put him down somehow, but he just made me feel like a fool for bringing it up. Drunk, I tried to think of a way to make it worse for him, but instead I brought up some story about this idiot we worked with back then. Rob, being narcissistic, went on and on about how he'd hated that guy and bragged how he fucked him over until he finally left the company. At the end of the night after everybody left, Rob pulled me to the side. I wondered if maybe he'd apologize for his behavior to my wife. Instead he did something really weird. He actually asked about my family, asked how was Rachel doing. He turned on the charm. Then he said, "You tell her big Rob appreciates all she did for him back in the day," with a "we're just the boys horsing around" attitude, giving me a little fist-bump. He turned and left with a wave, a big grin on his face. I was a little drunk and didn't want to drive, so I went back to the bar and nursed some sodas and had dinner. In the restaurant I texted Rachel that I just had the strangest conversation with Rob. She asked me for details but I told her I'd tell her at home. By the time I got home, the lights were off and the kids were in bed. I could see light under the bedroom door, so I knew Rachel was up. I opened the door to the bedroom and she was wearing this sexy little teddy with satin panties and white nylons. She clearly wanted to fuck. It was funny because she was on her laptop looking not so sexy and when she saw me she quickly put it down. "So tell me?" she asked, patting the bed next to her. I thought about what had happened, there wasn't much to say really, and I debated how much to say. As I undressed I told her about how Rob had pissed me off so much over the years, that I just had to rub his face in it that I'd gotten her. Rachel just giggled, telling me she couldn't believe I'd try to pull a stunt like that. Still, the way she said it sounded like she was proud of me. So I told her the truth of the situation, how he just laughed it off, asked how she was doing. "He wanted to know how I'm doing?" asked Rachel with a giddy smile. I realized she was flattered. "Remember Rachel, this guy's a dick, not our friend." "I know, I know, go on." "So get this, I'm going to leave, and he tells me to tell you that big Rob appreciated all you did for him," I said, and looked to gauge her reaction as I crawled on the bed. Rachel got this huge, bright smile on her face, "Oh my God, really? What did you say?" "I didn't know what to say. I have a feeling it means more than just him telling you he appreciates him." Rachel just nodded, the smile wide. "Yeah, it's not big Rob, it's more like Big Rob, he was kind of a big guy," and she held up her hands as if he was 7 or 8 inches long. "Oh my God, I can't believe you're telling me this," I shook my head, but I was laughing. It was an amusing conversation. After all, she was mine, he had lost, his big dick couldn't save him. She took me into her arms and we spent the next hour exploring each other like we hadn't in a really long time. The,sex was great, and as I pushed into her I said, "I'm just glad he never got your sweet, sweet pussy." Rachel giggled and looked away from me. "What?" I asked. "Nothing," said Rachel coyly. I knew she was hiding something, some thought. "Oh come on, tell me," I asked. "I was definitely tempted," said Rachel. With those words something inside me was unleashed and I fucked her as hard as I could. After a few minutes of panting and moaning, Rachel climaxed and I allowed myself to release deeply into her. After the second baby, Rachel's obstetrician had inserted a copper IUD into her, virtually guaranteeing she wouldn't get pregnant. At work Rob had seemed to revert to his same glad handling schmoozing self. For weeks our relationship seemed back to normal until one day he walked into the restroom when I was taking a piss. He sauntered up next to me at the next urinal. As he fiddled with his pants, I was shocked and surprised as he sort of sang out, "Big Rob!" and chuckled. "Holy shit, you fucker," I couldn't help blurt it out. His comment was incredibly disrespectful, so a manly retort was entirely warranted. He ignored me completely. "You tell Rachel I was thinking about her? What did she say?" I went red in the face, but luckily he probably didn't notice as I stared straight ahead. I'm also a horrible liar. All I managed was to squeak out, "Nothing." "Nothing?" he chuckled. "So you told her right? You told her about Big Rob? She made the name up, I thought maybe she'd have told you that." "No," I grimaced. I wished I'd answered differently. In fact I had implied, truthfully, that I did bring it up. So I came off as something of a liar. But it wasn't that I was embarrassed about a nickname. I was embarrassed my wife told me she was tempted to screw him back in the day. I was embarrassed she seemed to enjoy his attention. Was I going to tell Rob this? Hell no. My mind raced, trying to think of a suitable response, but the silence spoke for itself. "She liked it didn't she?" Rob said, but it seemed more of a rhetorical question. "Of course not," I answered, glancing at him as he looked down where he was aiming. And then, much to my mortification, his shifty eyes darted over, catching me looking at him, and he just smiled, the sly grin of the Cheshire Cat. "Dude, are you looking at me?" said Rob. "No," I tried to act nonplussed. "You're trying to take a peek aren't you? Go ahead." "Fuck you," and I started to stuff my member back in my pants, because I just wanted to get the hell out of there. "Hey man, it's just jokes," he answered. "Seriously, I didn't mean to come off as such a dick. I just couldn't help it, I'm sorry." His attitude had turned on a dime. Gone was the cocky bully, he humbled himself before me. I wasn't fooled by his passive/aggressive act, but at least it gave me an honorable out to the conversation. "That's okay, man, it's all good," I answered as I washed my hands badly and nodded at him as I made a beeline for the door. I texted my wife as soon as I got back to my desk. You'll never guess. I had the most fucked up conversation with Rob. I didn't get an immediate response so I went about my normal work. I was in a meeting wondering if it was even wise to tell her, but she was my best friend, and this was so crazy I thought we'd get a great laugh out of it. When I heard my phone vibrate. I excused myself and read the message. OMG really? I typed, I was in the restroom! When he came up to me. We were taking a piss and asked if I had told you about Big Rob. She responded, What did you say? I decided to lie. The truth was a tad shameful. I told him I hadn't. He said YOU invented the Big Rob name. Maybe I did, I don't remember, she answered. I signed off telling her I'd see her tonight and went back about my business. When I got back home, the house was empty. There was a little note on the kitchen table telling me she took the kids to her mom's house and would be back soon with takeout. I waited for almost an hour when Rachel came back in the door, food ready. She seemed to be in really high spirits, giving me a big warm hug, and inviting me straight away to the bedroom. I knew the food could wait, and in the back of my mind I made the connection between our text chat and her sexy attitude. I got undressed and hopped onto the bed. She disappeared into the restroom, emerging in the same satin panties and lingerie she'd worn the last time I brought up Rob. Twenty minutes later we were on the bed, pawing each other like teenagers, enjoying the kidless household. It was like the old days, just free and easy, ready to fuck. I was in the middle of fingering her, my hands down the front of her satin panties when she whispered, "So what exactly did Rob say in the bathroom?" "Who cares?" I answered, and a redoubled my efforts between her legs. Rachel closed her eyes and clearly tried to enjoy the moment, but her comment bothered me. "The fucker asked me if I wanted to get a look at Big John," I said. I wanted to show Rachel how Rob was a bullying dick, how he hadn't changed, but if I thought she would blurt out "Asshole!" or "That's crazy", I was in for a surprise. She smiled, giggling, "Did you see it? It's huge right?" I said hotly, "There's no fucking way I'm checking out another guy's junk in the restroom at work, are you fucking crazy?" Rachel just laughed, "You should have. I think it would have been hot," and she reached down between my legs, my cock stiff, and she started jerking me, as if to emphasize her point. "Yeah, you like that?" Rachel asked. It felt great. I felt a little confused, but I loved it. I answered by sliding my finger between her slick lips, into her pussy. She closed her eyes. "Mmmm, yeah," she said and then she made this little moan, so sexy, as if my hand between her leg was giving her the most pleasurable feeling imaginable. It was this little pleading whimper and to be honest, it fucking turned me on big time. You Don't Deserve My Pussy "You like that," I growled, "Rob trying to show off his cock?" Again she whimpered, her lips curled into a sexy smile she started breathing sharply as she gasped out, "Yes." I didn't want to talk about Rob anymore, so I slid down underneath the sheets and pulled down her panties and gave her oral sex. She moaned and writhed and had an orgasm that seemed to last for a couple minutes. When she finished, she pulled my head away and I curled up next to her. I wanted to kiss her again, but even I knew that was a bad idea. She doesn't really like the taste of her on my lips and turned her head, offering me her neck to kiss. "I want to fuck you," I whispered and Rachel acquiesced, turning over on all fours. I actually love to fuck her when she's on all fours so it was perfect, me riding her to a nicely satisfying sperm injection. Again, I made a mental note, thanking the doctor for the IUD. Afterward we cleaned up and had dinner before I retrieved the kids that evening. No more was said of Rob. I was embarrassed about it and thankfully she didn't push me. A couple of months passed. We had been invited to the wedding of a colleague who also worked under Rob. One day at work we all sat in a conference room and the subject came up. The groom to be was there and I realized that Rob had been invited. In the middle of chatting Rob asked if Rachel would be attending with me. Most of the people there knew Rachel from when she worked at the firm, and as expected, they asked questions about how she was doing, how domestic life was treating her. I was terrified Rob would ask some crazy question but he seemed to be on his best behavior. When I got home, we had a family dinner and did the kid thing, finally getting alone time after 9 pm. I crawled into bed with her and Rachel was on her laptop as was her habit, surfing the internet. As was our nightly ritual, we both chatted about our day and it came out that Rob was going to be at the wedding and reception, so it looked like she was going to see him again. Rachel asked me if he'd had any more cocky comments but I told her there was nothing and she made this little face like she was a little bummed out to hear it. We kept chatting and as we did, I noticed Rachel getting closer and closer to me, holding my hand, scratching my back, generally giving me the signals that she wanted to be intimate. I leaned in and we kissed a little bit, but it wasn't anything special, just the same old prelude to a ten minute fuck, or so I thought. With no prodding on my end, Rachel asked how I'd feel if Rob wanted to dance with her at the reception. "God, the way he was acting, I guess he might," I answered. "How should we handle it?" "I don't know," she answered, but I could tell she had thoughts on the matter that she didn't want to share. "Should we leave?" I asked. "That would be silly," laughed Rachel. I agreed, but I really didn't understand what she was driving at. "So - erm, you want to dance with him?" I asked. "Do you want me to dance with him?" Rachel answered, answering a question with a question. I gave her an odd look as I contemplated the scenario. I could ask her to not dance with Rob, but that seemed petty and immature. Perhaps she could simply excuse herself, sure, that was possible. "Do whatever you want," I answered. The ball was in her court. At first Rachel didn't answer. She pushed me over onto my back and straddled me. I thought we were going to have a little mutual oral sex as I lay there, but she didn't lower herself onto me, she sort of scooched up and rubbed my hard cock back and forth on her clit. Rachel looked back at me and said, "Whatever I want?" with narrow eyes and a coy look. Honestly, something about this whole scenario was really hot. Rachel has a nice bod and a gorgeous pussy. So as she rubbed the head of my penis up and down, sort of letting it in but not all the way, rubbing her clit and labia around, it was like a porno movie. I'm a visual person when it comes to sex, and this played right into my natural tendencies. "Sure," I chuckled, "whatever you want." Let her have her fun, I thought, I was having fun. When I said that she looked back at me, a big smile on her face. Again she shifted, moving her bare lips and slightly hairy snatch back toward me. As it closed in she started jacking me off. The feeling was pure bliss. "I'm going to do whatever I want," she said again, and she pressed her pussy into my mouth. I love eating her out. I kissed her vagina, an opened mouth, vulgar kiss that allowed me to tongue deep inside her. As she rode me like this, she said, "I know you dislike him and he is cocky, but I kind of like that. I can't believe you let him talk about me, your wife, like he did." When she said this I felt a leaden pit in my stomach, but my cock responded like I'd downed a viagra, effortlessly hard as she stroked it. I had so many sexual endorphins flowing through me that rather than becoming angry, I was aroused by her teasing. I redoubled my efforts and she suddenly raised up off of me. Like catnip, I tried to move my head up, but her wet pussy, messy and distended, gleaming with my saliva and her sex, hung above me out of my reach. "Come on," I said. "You don't deserve my pussy," she said, in a dark, almost angry tone. At first it was almost comical, but I held back on laughing as she lowered it back down, allowing me the briefest taste before rising up again. "You had me so long, but I want so much more," she purred. I looked up at her slit, my sexual property. Was she really saying this? Rachel continued jacking my rock hard penis, "This penis, it's just not enough, maybe it's too small." "Oh God," I cried out. Again she lowered herself onto me, let me get in a few licks, and pulled away. "God I need to be fucked, I need to be fucked by a real man." The implications were clear, but I floated on a could of sexual desire, desperate to lick her again. She lowered herself onto my mouth once again. "Go ahead, lick my ass, lick it." I happily licked her ass and said "What has gotten into you?" She seemed to ignore me, instead asking, "Do you want to fuck me?" "Yes," I whispered as she again rose off me, teasing me. "Come on," Rachel said, and she crawled off me, ass in the air on all fours, "I need you to fuck me like a real man." My cock was straight out, ready for action as I eased myself into her. "Come on, slap me, hurt me," she cried. Now this wasn't completely new to me. I know Rachel liked to get a little rough, she had her little forced sex fantasies so I knew the drill. I slapped her ass a few times as she rode me, panting and moaning. Her face was buried in a pillow and she said, "Come on, pull my hair," and I hunched over her. Not only did I grab a handful of her hair and gently pull, so that she definitely had a little bit of manageable pain as I yanked steadily, but I reached underneath her with my other hand and grabbed one of her tits, something she didn't normally like, and I pinched her nipple lightly between my knuckles. This put her over the edge. We went on for a few minutes, alternating my hands to each breast, sometimes both at the same time, pulling her hair again when it was convenient, and she screamed into the pillow as she climaxed. Now I have to admit, I think it's fun to do this for her in bed, but dishing out pain really isn't my thing. I'm not going to get all hard and pop off just by slapping her ass or pulling her hair. I love her, I don't want to hurt her, and I was softening a little bit and thankful as she came. I unmounted her and let her fall to the side. Her eyes were moist and she looked at me with a grin. I held out my cock, hoping she'd blow me or at least finish me off with my hands. "Get the dildo, put a little oil on it," she whispered. This was different. She had a dildo but we only barely used it. She only liked it if she was already aroused and in a kinky mood. I retrieved it from the nightstand, grabbing a little grapeseed oil that we used for these special occasions. Normally I loved fucking her with the dildo, pretending I had this giant cock as I'd fuck her. I crawled over to use it but she held out her hand and I gave it to her. "Play with yourself," Rachel said, again in that dark, angry voice. I grinned, laying back and squirted a little oil in my hands as I gave myself my own familiar, expert handjob. She was leaning back on a pile of blankets, her pussy pointed toward me, her legs not particularly spread, just a nice comfortable position for her. The dildo looked like a big flesh colored penis and balls, I think it was about 7 inches. It was the kind with a suction cup so it could be pressed against a door or solid wood, but we'd never used it like that. She just put it up to her labia and adjusted it before sliding it in. I loved this view. I knew I'd come soon. "Yes, I want the feel of a real man's cock," she whimpered, her eyes narrow slits as she stared at me. Again I got that weird feeling in my stomach but pleasure radiated down my penis which was now incredibly stiff and throbbing. Rachel fucked herself with the dildo, quick strokes, "See what it's like when I get fucked by a real cock, not yours. You don't satisfy me." I don't know why, but her humiliating words made my heart beat faster and I felt myself coming. "Oh God," I stammered, and she could see I was close. "That's right, touch your little cock. It's not enough for me." I was right on the edge, and then she said the words that I dreaded, but my cock seemed to crave, pushing me past the orgasmic point of no return. "I think Rob's cock could satisfy me." I jacked myself hard and sperm literally flew from the tip of my cock, landing in a broken arc from the sheets between my legs to a glob on my chest. Gone was Rachel's dark, angry face, it was replaced by the old Rachel, the one with that happy smile, but there was something else. She was clearly stunned at what she had witnessed. She looked like a kid who just realized she knew how to ride a bike. "Do we really have to wait for the wedding?" asked Rachel. To say I was confused and panicked would be an understatement. She had played my sexual psyche like a virtuoso plays a piano, but post orgasm reality came crashing down on me, and all the red flags and alarm bells were going off in my mind. I told Rachel she was crazy and railed into her as to what a bad idea it would be. At first she took it well, but after a minute or two of me laying down the law she started to mist up, tears forming, and my heart melted. I apologized for calling her crazy and yelling, and I comforted her. I wasn't about to change my opinion on what I'd said, but I'd said enough and complimented her on her sexual performance, admitting I had been incredibly turned on. I told her if she wanted to role play like that again, I'd be all for it, and she seemed placated by the thought. We sat and nuzzled each other and talked. Eventually the conversation morphed from sex to other issues, the kids, issues at work, even a "platonic" conversation about Rob's latest antics. We turned off the lights to sleep, but I felt there was still more to say, and the bitter, panicked feelings I'd felt had drained away. Part 2 The weeks leading up to the wedding were some of the best sex of my life. Does it count as sex if I'm only cumming from manual stimulation? I'd have sex of course, but it was the hard, rough sex that she loved as she begged for a real man's fuck. My favorite parts were her constant teasing, belittling my manhood, telling me "You don't deserve my pussy," as she shoved it into my face. We were acting completely kinky. Somehow Rachel had gotten into cumplay, rubbing it onto her tits, asking me to lick it off, and sometimes just sticking her soaked fingers into my mouth. The most insane sexual act, the one I felt guilty about, started out benign. We were almost finished, I'd already fucked her and Rachel was moving the dildo in and out of her pussy, and she told me, I think by accident really, because she was searching for words to turn me on, that I would have to suck my own dick. She giggled for a second thinking even that was too absurd, but in my lust I told her I would if I could. She got this grin on her face as she sank back into her humiliating tone and told me to point my cock at my mouth. She wanted to see me cum in my mouth. When I told her it was too far she pulled the dildo out and told me to open up. I did tentatively and she slid it between my lips. "Oh my God," she said, reaching between her legs to play with herself. I just sort of froze, pretending to suck that rubber dick as she told me I wasn't worthy of fucking her and that I should suck this cock instead. It was insane, but one of the craziest sexual feelings in my life, total humiliation yet I could see she loved it. To be honest, it didn't really get me hard, it was just weird, but I didn't hate it. "Okay," she said and she pulled it out. "I want to see you cum in your mouth." I lay back again. I knew if I really wanted to come in my mouth I should lay back on my shoulders, my body lifted above me, like against a wall or something, but I was too afraid to volunteer to do it, afraid it would make me seem eager to be gay or something. I did have my pride. Rachel felt no such reservations. She eyed the our bed's headboard and directed me to do exactly that, prop myself up, my cock pointed down, gravity ready to do her bidding. She grinned as she oiled up my hard penis and started stroking it, me balancing myself up with both arms. I'm a pretty fit guy, but there is no way I'm limber enough to get my own cock in my mouth, but to be honest, we tried. I tried to contort myself as best as possible, as she's saying things like "come on, cum in your mouth, take it, I want to see it." I could feel my orgasm building, and I was grateful because this was uncomfortable on my back. Then she said, "Imagine you are me, with Rob. This is what I had to do when I sucked Rob's cock, I still remember looking at it. But I could taste it." Keep in mind my own penis is inches from my face, a loaded gun of shame. That was it, my cock jerked in her hand and it squirted, her aiming it at my mouth. The first splash hit my nose, but she adjusted and the deed was done, I was eating my own cum. I could give you some bullshit story about it tasting nice, but it was bitter and I felt ashamed, but she told me to swallow it and I complied. The next night she tried to get me to do it again, but I refused, it was just too weird. I promised her I'd do it again, but just not quite yet, because I genuinely felt like a two bit faggot after she did that to me. I had a feeling she'd never think of me in the same way, although I admit I can't really tell all this time later. It's just how I thought at the time. Besides that event, she had held off talking about Rob until about a week before the wedding. I don't think this was her plan, it was more like she'd cracked. Gone was the complete humiliation, instead she asked me subtler questions, questions that would have seemed wild months before that now seemed mild and tame. She asked me if she could dance with Rob. She wondered if Rob would hit on her, maybe try and kiss her. Would Rob want to start up a sexual affair with her? I love Rachel. So when she did this I wasn't angry or hurt. We'd already role played enough that the rough edges didn't seem so rough. I enjoyed watching her dream and plan and fantasize about her encounter. For all we knew it would be a completely uneventful wedding and reception and this was just fantasy. The wedding was held at an older Catholic church that was done in a pueblo style in a nice older neighborhood. As we greeted people outside before the service, we both saw Rob at the same time and made our way over to him. "Are you nervous?" I asked Rachel. "A little," Rachel answered, and she held my hand tighter. "This is so silly right?" "We are so very fucked up," I whispered and we both laughed. My heart pounded and my mouth was dry as the moment had finally arrived. I stood nervously as he greeted some other co-workers before turning to us, many eyes from the others witnessing his behavior. He examined both of us with those shifty eyes, a grin on his face. He shook my hand first before turning to my wife. "Rachel, you look absolutely lovely," and he leaned in to give her a hug in greeting. Rachel kissed him on the cheek and Rob gave me a quick wink. "Your fantastic husband tells me he passed along my greetings earlier this summer?" Rachel looked at me and giggled. "He certainly did. A nice big Rob greeting." The syntax would make no sense to the others listening in. Rob asked her a few polite questions about the kids, asking her if she enjoyed her role as a homemaker. "It can be boring sometimes, but sometimes my husband comes home with news from work and old friends and it perks me up," she answered, grinning at me before looking back at Rob. Rob gave me a little look with one eyebrow up, "Sounds interesting, maybe we should discuss it at the reception," and they both chuckled. Rob turned to me, giving me a little fist bump, "You'll save a spot for me to dance with her right?" he said smoothly. My stomach did backflips. This was either a hell of a coincidence or they were both thinking similar thoughts about each other. "Gladly," I answered and Rob winked again as he turned to greet another friend. Rachel and I looked at each other, and she had a grin from ear to ear as we ascended the steps to take a seat in the pews. We were twenty minutes early, so we killed time reading the wedding program and I thumbed through a bible as we sat on the uncomfortable wooden pew. Imagine our surprise when Rob came in and he made his way to Rachel. "I hope you two don't mind?" he said, grinning at us. I shook my head and Rachel reached out and and touched his hand saying, "Not at all." I'd been to many Catholic weddings growing up, and I dreaded the length, but with Rob here the ceremony seemed to take an eternity. Here he was, the cocky bastard, putting the moves on Rachel right out of the gate, and there was nothing I could really do unless I wanted to make a scene. Worse yet, there was nothing I wanted to do! I was under his charismatic spell. By the time all the guests stood outside throwing rice, I was anxiously looking forward to the reception. A few beers or a stiff drink sounded really, really good. Rob came up behind us and when we turned to go to our cars, he surprised Rachel again. "Rachel," he asked, "do you mind if I borrow you for the ride over?" Rachel looked at me with slight grin, "Do you mind if he borrows me?" The question was bursting with consequences and innuendo. "Go ahead, I'll meet you there," I answered. We went our separate ways, Rob and Rachel toward his car, and I paused, looking back at them. There was nothing untoward, him in a suit, her in a really nice summer dress that accentuated her legs without looking vulgar or slutty. I didn't want to get caught staring at them so I slowly kept walking, stealing glances at them. Rachel never looked back. I unlocked the door and got this crazy thought as I sat in the hot car. Was she planning on sucking his cock in the car? All things considered it was entirely possible. Again, that lead pit in my stomach seemed to radiate. Even my lower back seemed sensitive, almost like I was being tickled from the inside. It was with these thoughts that adrenaline coursed through my body. When I hit the gas to drive, I hit it a little harder than I intended. My hands weren't shaking, but my arms seemed more alive than ever, every hair on my skin sensitive to the breeze. I realized I was a total mess. You Don't Deserve My Pussy The reception was at an exclusive athletic club, sort of a country club without the golf course. I parked and walked in, not seeing Rachel or Rob. Signs pointed the way to the reception, and I busied myself chatting with co-workers as half my brain wondered what exactly was going on between Rachel and Rob. I made my way to restroom, my bladder needing to take a nervous piss, but my half stiff cock had me standing for at least thirty seconds before I could get a flow started, and even then it was on and off for a few minutes. Other people came and went around me. It was embarrassing. I wandered back, getting a drink and finding the dining room, where each table had assigned seating. I found our table, and sure enough, Rob was scheduled to sit with us. I grimaced and turned around. Part of me wanted to find Rachel and leave, just get the hell out. I steeled myself to confront her, tell her we had to go and just leave, save ourselves, my pride, and maybe even our marriage. But there was another part of me. This part had horns and a pitch fork and a pointy tail. This part of me wanted to watch, to see, to experience the rollercoaster of emotion that washed over me. This part of me wanted to see Rachel in Rob's orbit of control. Finally I found Rachel. It was already 30 minutes after I'd arrived. She were sitting at a table outside with some other co-workers. They hadn't been there when I walked by in my earlier panic. "Honey, where have you been?" Rachel asked, a drink in front of her. "I saved you a seat." "Thanks," I said, suddenly feeling great relief. There were other people at the table and Rob was nowhere to be seen. "Did you come straight here?" "Yep, I waited for you but didn't see you," she answered. She looked at me oddly, perhaps sensing I wasn't right. "Are you okay? I hope you didn't mind, you know." "No," I grinned, "It's all good. I know how much you wanted this." She looked at me and gave me a look with the greatest little puppy dog eyes, "Thank you honey, you're the best," and she kissed me on the cheek. I swear if nobody else was there I would have wept I was so relieved. Still, I had to know something so I leaned in and whispered in her ear, "You didn't, you know, do anything with him?" She gave me a sly smile, and looked at the others, and she looked back at me, "I'll tell you later," she answered. My heart thumped as she looked away, continuing her conversation with the others. I felt like a zombie as I sat there. The stress, the pure mental anguish was incredible. What had she done? Why was she going to make me wait for later? Did she realize how incredibly hard this was for me? I finished my drink and waited maybe 15 minutes, almost completely silent the entire time as Rachel talked with her old colleagues. I excused myself, dropping my empty cup at another table as I made my way back to the restroom. This time I avoided the urinal, and moved straight to a stall. Thankfully it was pristine, the club certainly knew how to keep their toilets clean. I grabbed a paper toilet seat cover, my shaking hands tearing it in two. I grabbed another and got it right, laying it out. I sat down and peed again, the liquor flowing through me. I looked around, careful not to make too much noise, and got up, nudging the paper ring into the toilet and I flushed. I sat down again, this time on the warm seat, no paper to give away the rhythmic sound of what I was about to do. I thought about Rachel, visions of her kissing Rob, sucking his cock, maybe even fucking him crossing my mind, and I could see it. I reached down between my legs, and masturbated. It was the shameful jerkoff of a cuckold, clear seminal fluid easily coaxed from the tip of my rock hard cock. I smoothed it around my head, spreading more out to coat my shaft where my fingers smoothed it back and forth. I had to be careful not to make too much noise, so it wasn't quick and hard jerks, just slow and steady as my cock's sexual system came online, a dull pleasure replaced by radiant waves, intensified by not giving myself a death grip handjob, but more like if my wife was jerking me off, going slow when I would like it a little faster, especially as I hit the point of no return. In my bid to not make noise, I grimaced, holding my breath, trying not to to make any sound that would give away my true bodily function. Cum squirted hard, splattering on the floor in front of me. I knew others were in the restroom and I squirmed, hoping they didn't hear the thick liquid hit the floor. Anybody who looked would see an obvious puddle of warm white fluid. I bit my lip and grabbed some toilet paper, quickly wiping it up, hoping I wasn't caught. I stood up and threw it in the bowl, then cleaned up. I cursed lightly as I saw a drop had landed on my best suit pants. As I buckled up I wondered if the stain would be obvious, or should I try to wipe it off with some water from the sink. I wondered if I should I peek outside to see if the coast was clear, or just be normal, walk out like I owned the place. I opted for the latter, ignoring the others in the room. Nobody looked at me, said anything funny. I washed up and used a paper towel with water to blot the stain, I'd have to wear my suit jacket to cover it up until the water dried. I felt good as I left the restroom. Sexualy it was a relief, even if questions still swirled, but I felt like I could at least hold a conversation. I picked up two more drinks and headed over to the table where my wife was still chatting. We chatted for 15 minutes when Rachel asked me if I wanted to dance. I nodded and we made our way to the dance floor. It was a quick number with lots of people moving around, nothing for an intimate conversation. Rachel loves to dance, so we had a pretty good time for a couple of songs. Finally a slow dance started. She smiled at me and we closed in on each other, her head on my shoulder has I held her close. "So what happened?" I whispered. "Oh," she said loudly, looking at me laughing, "You wouldn't believe it." "What?" I answered. "So we're driving over and we're just chatting, everything is normal, and we pull into the parking lot, and he asks me to kiss him." "Really?" I said. Rachel just nodded her head, grinning like she was pleased with herself if not a little surprised. "And?" I said. Rachel leaned in and kissed me. I humored her, returning the kiss. Was I tasting Rob on her lips? Her kiss seemed absolutely normal, but I wanted a full report. My cock pressed into her, hard. "How did it feel, the way he took me from you?" she whispered. I groaned, "It drove me crazy. I about went insane until I found you." She surreptitiously reached over and brushed my hard cock, giving it a gentle squeeze, and I smiled at the thrill of her touch. I was completely wound up again, "Did you kiss him?" She just smiled, looking in my eyes, giving me a little smirk, and she nodded, almost imperceptibly. I pulled her tighter and closed my eyes. It had happened and it was what I wanted to hear, "Was he a good kisser?" She nodded. "Do you want to kiss him again?" She nodded. "I want to fuck you so bad," I whispered. She leaned in and purred, "You don't deserve my pussy." "Did you blow him?" I whispered. "No," she answered laughing, "What am I, a slut?" So it was just a kiss. My hard cock wondered what other wonders the day would bring. I held her there and whispered in her ear, "Is there a chance there will be more tonight?" "Mmm hmm," she whispered, looking away from me. We finished out our dance and walked off the dance floor. We hung out a bit more and I finally spied Rob making the rounds, glad-handing people as he charmed them. Finally he made his way to us, but not before grabbing yet another drink for Rachel. We stood there, Rachel on my arm, beaming at him. Again she greeted him with a kiss, this time grabbing his hips, kissing his neck. It was definitely over the line but it happened so fast I'm sure nobody noticed but us. "I was just telling my husband about the car ride over," said Rachel, winking at me. "Oh really?" Rob answered, a smug look on his face. "You know," Rachel continued, "I was wondering, would you be interested in driving me back this evening?" She said this, our elbows intertwined as she leaned on me. "You might get back very late Rachel. Can your husband handle the long and lonely wait?" His eyes drilled into me, his million dollar smile lighting up his face. Rachel also looked at me, and I realized it was my choice. Right then and there, it was time to make a decision. I looked at them both, silently appraising the situation. The sexual tension in our three way triangle could be cut with a knife. "Please?" Rachel begged me with those puppy dog eyes. Still, that wasn't enough to sway me. Rachel grew frustrated, and then she said something that changed everything, "Think about who deserves it more." She was being tactful, but the message was clear to me - You don't deserve my pussy Rob scrunched his eyes, clearly perplexed. Now don't get me wrong, it's not like she actually thought her pussy deserved anything. The whole you don't deserve my pussy idea is fantasy bedroom talk, nothing more, nothing less. But remember, every time I'd heard the sentence, it was as if I was conditioned to accept her cheating, dominant sexual role. I associated those words with her teasing my cock, as her pussy dangled in front of me, not quite attainable. I associated those words with her working her sex toy in front of me. I associated that phrase with fantastic orgasms and the best sex I'd had in years. The devil inside me, the one who wanted to experience the rollercoaster, egged me into the seat and strapped me in. "Today is your lucky day Rob," I answered, and I took another drink. The rest of the party was pure agony and arousal. Both of them danced, almost exclusively the rest of the night. We ate dinner and she sat by him each one touching and holding, not hiding it when inappropriate, merely being friendly as far as the other guests were concerned. The coup de grace occurred as they gathered their things and we left, Rachel kissing my cheek as she turned to follow him to his car. I stood on the curb and watched them drive off. I was relieved the kids were at her parent's house. It would be a long and lonely night. It was almost midnight, a couple of hours after I'd watched her drive off, when I got a phone call. Imagine my excitement as I saw Rachel's number pop up on the front screen of the smartphone. I picked up the phone and greeted her. "Hi," she said. There was activity in the background, music and something more. She didn't say anything else, and I listened, confused. After a few seconds I asked, "Are you okay?" "Oh yes," she laughed. Her voice had a strange distant quality. "I'm doing verrrry well, great!" On the word great her voice became sharp and high pitched. Was she, could she? My mind ran through the possibilities, but there was really only one conclusion, she was with him now. Again there was more silence. She mumbled something unintelligible and I asked her to repeat herself. "Oh, I just told Rob you are still on the line." "Is he touching you? Please tell me!" I begged. My cock was in still in my underwear, straight down my leg, stiff and hard. "You could say that, oh, yes, like that. Yes. Yes. Yes," she repeated and I realized that halfway through the sentence she'd started speaking to him. "Is he fucking you?" I asked. "Mmm, hmm," she answered. I sat there in silence, just listening to my beautiful Rachel, the love of my life and fucking mother of my children get pleasured by Rob Brown. My chest felt like it would burst. "My pussy," she paused, letting out a guttural moan, "My pussy is getting what it deserves, oh," she breathed sharply, "oh yes!" I listened to her for a full minute as she cried out. I've read stories on the internet, read little tales from guys who claimed they've had an orgasm without touching themselves, and although I believed it, I never thought it could happen to me. And in a sense, maybe it didn't. But I wasn't concentrating on my dick either, other than some very weak touching, but my cock spasmed, pumping sperm that dripped against my leg, within my underwear. "I just came," I told her into the phone, and suddenly I heard a laugh, it was Rob. Had he heard me? Was I on speaker? "Rob?" I asked. There was a little bit of commotion. His voice came on the line, full and clear, "So did I." "Rob!" my wife called out, sounding appalled, but the line went dead. Epilogue The flight hadn't been very long, a nice direct flight to Cabo from the west coast. The kids were at grandma's house, and life was good. The entire time Rachel read a hilariously titled self help book that was a guide to better sex. I thought it was amusing considering we'd had some of the best sex of our life lately. We had learned so much about ourselves over the prior six months. The dates were my favorite part. I loved sitting at home, wondering how Rachel was going to come home. Sometimes she had a sopping wet gash, and she'd rub it in my face, making me get up close and personal with Rob's handiwork on her pussy, not to mention his sperm. Thank God for the IUD. He also took her to Hawaii. That was the most agonizing week. It was bliss when she returned, but I really didn't want to repeat that. Rob's true colors eventually wore on Rachel and she broke up with him. I quit my job and got a much better one in industry. I have a life again, and can enjoy the kids. We got into the swinger scene after that, almost by pure chance. What could have been pure embarrassment opened a new door when Rachel found out a good friend swapped partners. She'd met Nikki in a new mother support group, and they'd been pretty close since then. One day after too much wine she let it out of the bag that I'd let her fuck Rob, have a boyfriend. Nikki asked her if we were interested in playing, but nothing turned me on like Rachel getting fucked. One night as I had sex with Nikki, we could hear Rachel and Nikki's husband in the next room, and I realized my mind and all my thoughts were on my wife and her moans of pleasure. That night was also the first time Rachel lowered a freshly cum glazed pussy onto my waiting mouth, my brain paralyzed by fear, the smell incredible and I tasted the musky drips, seconds before I planted an open mouth kiss on her wrecked pussy. It was great. I can't explain it. It was what it was. So she started going out without me. Nikki and her husband "broke up" with Rachel because he was developing incredible feelings for her. Rachel and I talked it over. Where did we see our relationship going? What did we want? Did we want to go back to what we had before all this? It had been intense, and very stressful on both of us, even if we loved the sexual energy. We decided to lighten it up. We picked up a taxi at the airport. It was a typical Mexican taxi, kind of beat up, but the driver was very friendly and pointed out the landmarks and tourist traps and I gave him a nice tip. He pulled into the resort and dropped us off, the staff tagging our luggage as they directed us to check-in. Rachel had our passports out as we waited behind another couple to register. She was always in charge of things like this on our vacations, she loved dealing with the logistics, talking the front desk into the best room, asking for advice and tips. We couldn't believe we were here, and grinned at each other nervously like 8th graders getting ready to ride a roller-coaster. We struck up a conversation with a nice couple who came in behind us. One of the ladies behind the counter held up her hand, and we walked over to check in. "Hello, buenos dias," Rachel said, getting into the flow of the country. "Welcome to Temptations," said the cute girl behind the counter. There was a chance I would have much less sex on this vacation than Rachel, and condoms would be the order of the day, but I was thrilled.