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Cheating Wife

By: GotBacon



This story is set in the early 1960's. Unfortunately, it's the real thing too many times. It's where the term WESTPAC Widows came from.



Eric Jensen is an E5 ET. That's an electronics technician. His job was just what it says. He maintained all electronic equipment except the sonar. Eric is stationed on the USS Charles Brannon DER-742. DER signifies it's a Radar Picket Destroyer Escort. A radar picket ship was the eyes and ears of the Navy. Some were in the Destroyer class or Destroyer Escort class. They even had radar picket subs. They would steam to a classified position and watch and listen with the radar and sonar. They stayed on station for ninety days. Then they would return to port for resupply and repairs they couldn't make at sea. They would steam in a circle, a square, a triangle and sometime a figure eight. It was considered the most boring of all duty.

Eric is married to Sarah. She is a classic beauty. Blonde hair and blue eyes, 5ft 4in tall and weighs around 110 pounds. The didn't have any children. She didn't like that Eric caught such a crappy duty. She pestered him all the time trying to get him to request shore duty. Unfortunately there weren't many ET's required on shore stations. None the less her put in for every one he could think of but to no avail.

So here I sit with a repair order for a ship to ship radio transceiver. I decide to wait till I finish my cup of coffee. My leading PO barks at me.

"Jensen, that radio won't fix itself. What's the hold up."

"On my way, Barnes. On my way."

I make my way up to the bridge and find a broken wire in the mic cord. I go below and get a new one. It's fixed in five minutes. I go back to the ET shack and fix the broken wire and put it back in stock. It's 1700 and time to knock off. Another exciting day in Uncle Sam's canoe club. I check the watch list and see I'm down for the mid watch. Midnight to four am. I figure I'm on someone's shit list. Probably Barnes' list. He is an asshole and everyone hates him. I go down to my berthing compartment and take shower. Chow goes down and I finish a tasteless meal and head out onto the fantail. Maybe they're showing a movie I haven't seen. No such luck. The one they're showing I've seen three times. I go down and crawl into my bunk and read.

My mind wanders off and I start thinking of my wife. We have two more weeks on station and then it's back to port. I think about holding her beautiful body in my arms. I think of my cock in her pussy squirting my cum. I plan on rubbing one out while I'm on mid watch. I get up and put my name on the wake up list and return to my book.

I wake up to the fire watch shaking my rack. I roll over and initial the wake up list. I get dressed and make my way to the ET shack. I see three pieces of equipment that need repair. Two hours later they are finished. I lock the door and grab a paper towel. I sit in a chair and take out my cock. I think of my wife and rub one out. I catch it in the towel and put it in the bottom of the trash can. An hour and a half later my relief shows up. I go back to my rack and fall to sleep.

************************ 

"Fuck me baby. I'm almost there. Fuck me hard."

'Come on, baby. Cum for me. Work that hot pussy and make me cum with you."

"I feel Mike's cock swell and his cock starts pulsing in me. It pushes me over and I cum with him."

'mmmm, baby. Hold me tight."

We cuddle for a while and I sit up and take his condom off. I tie it and drop it in the trash can. I lay back beside him and we fall asleep.

I wake the next morning and shake Mike.

"Wake up, baby. Go shower while I make breakfast."

Mike comes out and sits at the kitchen table. I fix him a plate and watch him eat. I sip my coffee and ponder what I'm doing. Eric is the love of my life and I'm shacked up with Mike. What a fucking unfaithful slut I am. Eric will be home soon if everything goes according to plan. I miss him so much. I'm learning to hate being a Navy wife. All I can think of if how great it would be if he gets shore duty.

Mike finishes breakfast and I kiss him goodbye. I turn on the TV and stare at it. I don't even see what's on. Tear start running down my cheeks. The guilt hits me again. It happens every morning after Mike leaves. Somehow I have to break this off. Mike is a good man, but I don't love him. He is just a warm body to keep me from going crazy.

I met Mike at the enlisted men's club just before Mike's ship came in from his last cruise. I stayed away from the club while Eric was home. I went back after Eric shipped out and started hanging out with him again. We just talked at first. He told me everything that I wanted to hear. One night I was really feeling lonely and I took him home with me. I traded sex with him so I could have someone hold me. After two weeks he was staying all night. He was the first and only guy I cheated on Eric with. 

I started making plans for when Eric would get home. Mike knew he would have to go. He promised not to make any waves with Eric. I'm sure he was hoping he could move back in when Eric shipped out again.

A week before Eric was due home I kicked Mike out. He had this big sad puppy dog look as he kissed me goodbye and walked away. I planned on spending the next week getting rid of all the evidence.

************************* 

With one week to go I'm getting excited. Soon I would be wearing out Sarah's pussy. I walk into the ET shack and Barnes hands me the plan of the day. I read it and my heart sinks. The ship coming to relieve us hit a log and knocked one blade off it's starboard screw. It was limping back to port to get it fixed. We were going to be on station for another month. I went though all the swear words I learned as a sailor.

After chow that evening I wrote Sarah a letter telling her the bad news. I told her I loved her and couldn't wait till I could be in her arms again. There isn't a lot to write about when every day is the same as the next one. I dropped it off at the mail room and returned to my bunk. I lay there wondering how much worse my life could be. I spend a lot of time thinking up things to do so I don't go nuts. It came to me. I had enough time in rate to take the test for E6. The next day I went to my Division Officer and asked if he would recommend me to take the test. He OKed it. I went to the library and checked out every book I could find on the duties of an E6.

Two days later an oilier came alongside and refueled us. We transferred our mail and swapped movies. I got three "I love you and miss you" letters from Sarah. 

I spent the next two weeks studying my ass off. I took the test and passed. I was one happy fucker. Now I wouldn't have to take any more shit off Barnes. We were the same rate. Now my job would be making sure all the work was done in a timely manner. . I went to the ships store and bought some E6 crows and sewed them on all my uniforms.

I put a request for a weeks leave and it gets approved. It starts when we get to into port. I figure that will be enough time to catch up on our fucking.

******************* 

I finish my coffee and go out to check the mail box. There was a letter from Eric. I open it right there and my mood goes from happy to shit in one minute. This trip was extended one month. I check the date on the postmark and it was two weeks ago. With slumped shoulders I walk back inside. I need someone to talk to so I call my friend Sandy and ask her to come over. We talk mostly about how it sucks to have our husbands gone all the time. Her husband was on a WESTPAC cruise. He will be gone about six months. She knew I was shacked up with Mike but we never talked about it. I suspected she had one on the side too.

Sandy left and I went into the bedroom and cried. I thought about calling Mike but decided against it. I was tired of dealing with the guilt. I was going to give my best try at staying faithful to Eric from now on.

******************* 

I had spent the last hour watching as dry land came into sight. Finally we were going home. I was laying in my bunk waiting for them to call us to us to special sea detail. I wasn't involved in running the ship or handling the lines so I had to stand at parade rest on the rail. It was a pretty impressive sight seeing everyone lined up like that. We got close to the pier and I tried to pick Sarah out of the crowd. I finally picked her out. I could see her looking back and forth for me. She spotted me and started waving and hopping up and down. I waved at her and went below to my locker. I grabbed my leave papers and headed for the gangplank. I spotted Sarah and ran to her. We collided and hugged. We were both crying. All she could say was, "Eric, Eric, Eric." I just hugged her and cried.

******************* 

As we're driving home Sarah can't keep her hands off me. We were both crying and laughing.

"Oh my god, baby. I missed you so much. I can't believe you're home."

"I'm know. I didn't think they would ever let us go."

"I'm going to fix your favorite dinner and then guess what."

I smile at her.

"I know what. We're going to play hide the weenie for the next week. We should be caught up by them."

"I know just the place to hide it too."

She pulls my hand over and puts it on her thigh. I gently squeeze her and she pulls my hand up. My fingers fine a wet pussy. She didn't wear panties. I push my finger in her and she gasps.

"You naughty girl. Running around out here with no panties."

"All I could think about for the last two weeks is you big cock. Hurry and get us home. I'm so hot for you."

She holds my cock the rest of the way home.

For the next three days we try to fuck each other to death. We almost succeed. I'm laying on the bed after a hot fuck session. Sarah gets up and I hear the shower start up. She comes back in the bedroom.

"Baby, if you can find the strength, the drain in the shower is almost stopped up. It's running really slow. I going to go get some groceries. I'll be back in about an hour."

"Sure. I'll check it out."

I struggle out of bed and put on a pair of skivvies. I go to the kitchen and get a screwdriver. I take the drain apart and see it's almost plugged with gray sludge and hair. I dig it out and clean it up with a rag. I put the drain back together and look at the clump and see blonde and red hair in it. Something isn't right here. I don't have red hair. Someone with red hair has been using my shower and it isn't Sarah. Like a bolt of lightening it hits me. She had a boyfriend while I was gone. My mind goes on tilt and my gut feels like someone kicked me. I make it to the toilet and puke my guts up. I lay there on the floor with all the horrible thoughts running through my mind. I'm out in the middle of the ocean and she is living it up with lover boy. I see my marriage going down the toilet. Two things happen at once. Anger sets in and I feel pain in my heart. I manage to get up and take a shower. I get dressed and pack my ditty bag. I plan on moving back on the ship. I go in the kitchen lay the wad of crap from the shower on the table. I sit and hold my head in my hands. I break down and start crying. I finally cry myself out and go wash my face with some cold water.

I hear her car pull into the driveway. She comes in with a big bag of groceries.

"Baby, why are you dressed. I was planning on jumping your bones. You won't need any clothes for the rest of the week."

She walks over and gives me a kiss on the forehead. She sees the glob of crap and asks.

"Yuck. Did that come out of the shower?"

"Yep. It was stopped up with soap scum full of blonde and red hair."

He face goes white and she gasps. She falls into a chair and holds her face in her hands. Her tears fall like rain.

"Oh god. No. No. I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."

"What the fuck, Sarah. I'm out in the middle of the ocean and you're fucking someone. Did you think it would be OK?"

"No, it's not like that. I love you. Please. Let me explain."

"What's to explain. You were fucking someone while I'm gone. You shit on our marriage. You shit on me. You shit on your marriage vows. How can I trust you when I go to sea again. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Please Eric. Let me explain. I know we can get by this. I love you and I don't want to lose you. Please."

"So what happened? Some big good looking stud swept you off your feet. Did he have a nice big cock for you. Did he make you scream when he shot his cum in you. How could you disrespect me like that. I didn't have a choice. I had to leave. I didn't like it any more than you did. It's part of being in the Navy. Then I come home and my wife is an adulteress. Just fucking great."

"Please, baby. Let me explain. I love you so much. Please."

"OK. Tell me why. Why did you think it would be OK."

"I met him while you were gone the time before this one. We just talked like friends. He never made a pass at me or did anything like that. He was just someone to talk to. After you left this time I got so lonely. It was terrible. I missed you so much. I missed laying next to you and holding your warm body. I brought him home and traded sex for someone to hold me. At first I pretended he was you. It got easier as time went on. I never planned it, it just happened."

That's bullshit, Sarah. You got lonely and fucking someone was the answer. You have women friends. Get a fucking teddy bear. Do anything but that."

"I needed someone to hold me. I knew he wouldn't just hold me. I felt so guilty at first. I just pushed it to the back of my mind. I stopped when I got your letter that you were coming home. I never thought you would find out. Please, baby. I know we can work past this. I love you with all my heart. I don't want to lose you."

"Do you love him?"

"No. I love you. He was just a warm body for me to hold. That's all it was."

"Are you going to move him back in when I ship out in a few weeks?"

"God no, baby. I'll never do that again. I'll never hurt you again. I promise."

"I don't know if I can forgive this. I need some time to think. I'm going back to the ship."

"Oh god, no. Please don't leave me. I'll die without you. Please don't go."

Seeing her sobbing and crying grabs my heart. I almost take her in my arms. I think of her in his arms and I know I can't do it. I need to go and think.

"Give me a few days to think. I'll let you know what I'm going to do."

The sound of her sobbing follows me out the door.

****************** 

I have two days of leave left. Taking leave on a ship is not the best thing to do. Especially when your life has turned to shit. I wander around, eat, read and try to figure out what I'm going to do. My wife cheated on me while I was out to sea. I should dump he and sail away into the sunset. The problem is that I love her. She is a loving wife and a great friend. In a while I'll be back out there steaming in circles and I'll be wondering if she is fucking someone.

It's my last day after my leave expired and I'm back to work. My Division Officer walks in."

"Hi, Jensen."

"Good morning, Sir. What can I do for you?"

"The question is, what can I do for you."

He hands me an envelope. I open it and almost piss my pants. I have orders to report to ET school in San Diego in ten days. I'll be an instructor there. Finally after putting in for shore duty all those times it paid off.

"Thank you, Sir. You really made my day."

Everyone watches me do a happy dance around the ET shack. It flashes in my mind that I need to hurry home and tell Sarah. Then I calm down and return to reality. I may be going to San Diego alone. I decide to talk to Sarah about everything tonight. It's not going to be easy being happy and sad all at the same time.

***************** 

I walk in the door and see Sarah sitting at the kitchen table. Her head is laying on her arms. She hears the door and sits up. Her eyes are all red and swollen. Her hair is a mess. She jumps up and grabs me. she hugs me as hard as she can. I want to hold her and I want to push her away. I weaken and hold her. I can tell she is feeling the same pain I am. 

"Eric! Thank god you're home. Please come here and sit down. I'll make some coffee."

She puts some coffee on and sits at the table. I take the envelope out and lay it on the table.

"No, Eric. Please. No."

"It's not what you think. Look inside."

She looks and starts crying again.

"Yes. Yes. You got your transfer. I'm so happy for you. No more sea duty."

"I almost passed out when I saw it. So, now we have to decide what we're going to do."

"We can fix it, baby. We can fix our marriage. I'll do anything you ask. Just tell me you won't leave me. I love you with all my heart. I don't want to lose you because I was so weak."

"I'm really having a tough time. I'm feeling anger, hurt and betrayed and I don't know if I can ever trust you again."

"I know I hurt you, baby. I promise I'll never do it again. Just give me the chance to make it up to you. I'll be the best wife in the world for you. I know I can rebuild your trust. Please. Give me a chance."

"Let's sleep on it and see how we feel in the morning."

"Thank you for coming home, baby. I thought you were gone for good."

She walks up to me and we hug again. She reaches up and gives me a kiss.

"You go watch TV. I'm gonna clean up and make dinner."

She comes out a few minutes later with a bag in her hand. She's wearing jeans and a t shirt. Her hair is brushed back into a pony tail and she has just light makeup on.

"What's in the bag, Sarah."

"My old nightgowns. They have bad memories on them. I'm throwing them away."

She walks out the back door and puts the bag in the garbage can. The thought runs through my head that she is sincere in her wish to get us back together. She is symbolically getting rid of he lover. I think she is doing this for me as well as for herself. I'm impressed. Maybe we have a chance. All I need to do is let go of the anger and pain. I wonder if I can.

After dinner we're sitting on the sofa watching TV. It come to me that if we fix our marriage the ball is in my court. I know she wants it fixed and I need to make a decision.

"Sarah. I have one more day before the ten days between stations starts. I'll let you know tomorrow night what I want to happen. I know it's my decision."

"I know we can, honey. At least let's give it a try. I want to stay married to you. I love you above all. Please, let's try."

"I can't sleep in that bed. I'll use the sofa tonight."

"OK, honey. I'll fix that tomorrow."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm buying a new bed and new nightgowns."

She snuggles under my arm and we watch TV.

I wake the next morning to Sarah shaking my arm.

"Wake up, honey. Go get your shower and I'll make some breakfast."

I shower and get dressed. Waiting for me in the kitchen is a breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast and coffee. I finish eating, kiss her goodbye and walk out the door. I don't hear any sobbing or crying.

"I spend the day doing as little as possible. I let jerk off Barnes take care of business. An hour before the end of the work day I hunt up all my buddies and say goodbye. I go below and pack my locker in my sea bag. I show my orders to the quarterdeck watch and walk down the gangplank for the last time. I stop on the pier and look back. With a rude gesture I turn and walk away.

I walk in the door and I see Sarah has started packing. It brings a smile to my face that she is thinking so positively about us. I walk over and hug her. She smiles up at me.

"Are we going to San Diego, honey?"

"You're the love of my life and my best friend. I came to my decision by asking myself if I would be happier with or without you. I want you with me."

She squealed and grabbed me around the neck. She started kissing me all over my face and neck.


Cheating Wife



"You won't regret that decision, baby. I'll be the best wife in the world. Oh, and I have a surprise for you. Come and see."

She drags me into the bedroom"

"New bed, dresser and chest of drawers. The old stuff had bad memories on it."

"Good choice."

"I have another surprise for you, but I'll show that to you later."

"Hmm. I wonder what that would be."

"You'll see. You go take a shower and I'll fix some dinner."

I take my shower and put on a t shirt and skivvies. I park on the sofa while Sarah finishes up making dinner. We finish dinner and I park on the sofa again. Sarah cleans up in the kitchen and goes in the bedroom. Thirty minutes later she comes out. She knows how to fire my rocket. She is wearing a white, semi transparent gown that comes down to mid thigh. She sides are split open to the waist. I can see her rock hard nipples poking against it and I see just a hint of her blonde pussy hair. He blonde hair is down and frames her beautiful face. Her blue eyes are sparkling. I'm fucked and we both know it. Call me pussy whipped if you want, but if you saw her you would cum in your pants. She is beautiful and she knows it. She walks around in front of me and poses.

"Do you like this outfit. I bought it today just for you."

"You're beautiful, baby. Just beautiful."

She sits on my lap and my half hard cock pokes against her ass. She wiggles a little on it and puts her arms around my neck. She closes her eyes as our lips meet. I feel her tongue searching my lips. I open them for her and capture her tongue. She runs her hands up under my t shirt and rakes her nails down my chest. Blood fill my cock. She wiggles on it again and her tongue is searching for mine. She pulls my t shirt up and we break the kiss for a few seconds. She tosses my shirt on the floor and tweaks both of my nipples. She moves around and lets my cock stick straight up. She takes it in one hand and slowly strokes. it. I slide my hands up inside her gown and take both nipples between my fingers. I twirl them and hear her gasp. She breaks the lip lock she has on me and kisses her way around my neck. Slowly she moves down off my lap, kissing her way down. She takes my cock in both hands and kisses the head. I groan and lay my head back. She pulls down on the waist band of my skivvies. I lift my ass to help her get them off. She tosses them over her shoulder. She is on her knees with both hands on my cock. Slowly she takes it in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head.

"Oh yes. Yes. So fucking good."

She keeps sucking and licking my cock. I can feel a stirring in my loins. My hand move down and I hold her head. She moans and sucks and licks faster. I hold her head on my cock as it swells. My cum rockets into the back of her throat. She squeaks through her nose and stays on it. I empty my balls in her mouth. She catches every drop and sucks for more. My cock starts to deflate and she slides off it. She looks up at me and smiles.

"For you, my love. For you."

"Your blow jobs are amazing, baby. Just fucking amazing."

"Let's go break in that new bed. It's all lonely in there."

She stands and pulls me up. I grab her and hug her. My hands find their way under her gown. I pull it up and it falls to the floor. I hold her soft naked body to mine. She hugs me like there is no tomorrow. My hands move down and I cup her ass cheeks. I lift her and carry her to the bedroom. Her legs lock around my waist. I lower her to the bed and kneel between her legs. She falls back and opens her legs for me. I kiss my way to her sweet dripping pussy. She grasps the inside of her knees and pulls up and out. She is giving herself to me completely. I lift her ass and touch her asshole with the tip of my tongue. She gasps and humps up to meet me. I give her a serious rim job for a few minutes. She is gasping and moaning. I lick all the way up to her clit. He pussy juice tastes like honey. I lick her pussy lips and slide a finger in her. I attack her pussy with my mouth and fingers. She is humping up, moaning and groaning. I find her G spot and rub it gently. She cries out and cums.

"Yes. Yes. Oh. Oh. Yes. Yes. Yes."

She pulls me up into her saddle. She grabs my cock and guides it to her dripping pussy. She lines it up and thrusts up. The head pops in and she cries out and cums. She grabs my ass cheeks and pulls me all the way in. He legs lock around my legs. He arms go around my neck.

"Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard."

I start stroking hard into her. She meets every stroke of my with one of her own. I feel that stirring again and grind on her clit with my pelvis bone. She starts moaning and her orgasm comes on. My cock swells, flares and I pump my cum into her. We both cry out in mutual orgasm. She holds me in her pussy as it milks every drop. I roll off but she keeps her legs locked around me.

"You're not getting away from me. You're trapped in my clutches. Just give up and submit."

"I submit. I submit. Help Help. I'm trapped in her clutches. Help. Help."

"I love you, baby. You're back where you belong."

"I know, baby. Right where I belong."

"Hold me, baby. Hold me tight."

"I just thought of something. We didn't use a rubber."

"I didn't want to use one. I didn't want anything between us and I wanted you cum in me."

"We might have just started a family. Did you think of that."

"Oh well. Would that be so bad?"

"I could live with it. I've never been a daddy before. That sounds kinda nice."

"Let's talk about after we get moved."

She snuggles down with her back to me. I have a face full of hair and my limp cock between her ass cheeks. We fall asleep.

******************** 

Two days later the movers pack all our stuff into their truck. We pack enough to camp out in a motel till it catches up with us. Three days later we pull into San Diego. I stop and get a city map. I look up the base and we cruise by. We start looking for an apartment close to the base. We find a two bedroom and put down the first, last and a cleaning deposit. We find a motel and check in.

******************** 

The movers deliver out furniture and Sarah gets everything put away. I check in at the base. The give me all the lesson plans that I'll need and I spend the next week learning what I'll be teaching. The start me off teaching basic electronics. How tubes, resistors, capacitors and induction coils work.

Sarah finds a job at a law office. She is front office material. She mostly keep the clients entertained while they're waiting. She does some light typing and filing. Of course she gets to buy a new wardrobe for work. Our marriage grows stronger and we talk about starting a family.

A year later she delivers a bouncing baby boy. He is Eric Junior. A year later she delivers a beautiful baby girl. Parenthood suits up both. After Sarah Ann is born, Sarah quits to be a full time Mom. I make E7 and get a nice pay raise. I stay at the school for two years and they transfer me to recruiting duty.

We're both happy we made the right decision and left the past in the past.



Cheating Wife: A Fantasy



I have had this fantasy for some time now, so I thought it might be fun to share it. To begin, I have many fantasies, this is just one of my more vivid ones. The fantasy itself began with a strange combination of my real life infecting a dream, and then was further developed as I read more erotica on this site.

This will no doubt be a short story, but it will be longer on paper than it is in my mind. In my mind I am more focused, but in this story I'll add detail for your enjoyment. (Or not, as a lot of people seem to hate my stories.) Anyway, this is what I have been imagining lately while my husband and I fuck. 

+++++++++++++++++++++



"Thanks, but I'm waiting for someone." Well that is the third guy I've blown off so far. He was cute enough, and confident, but not really what I am looking for. And I am looking for something special. But I don't blame him - or the other two - for trying. Sitting at this hotel bar, I certainly don't look like I want to be alone. 

I also don't look like I want to stay long. I squeezed my body into a gorgeous little leopard print strapless mini dress, stepped into a matching pair of 5" spiked heels, and wore my hair down. Hell, I touched up my garnet colored lip gloss often enough to arouse every man in this bar. 

It's just that the right man hasn't approached yet. I know he's seen me, but so far he seems content to just watch. Maybe he's gay. I almost laugh out loud at that thought, because you just wouldn't expect it from his appearance. If he doesn't come over soon I'll just choose someone else. I'd rather not have to settle tonight, but I am not missing out on this opportunity. I don't get away from the house that often.

"Tell him thanks, but I'm not interested right now." Well, I must clearly be scary! This last guy didn't even approach, he just sent the bartender with a drink. Maybe I should just approach him.

"Why are you alone?" And there it was! He came up from behind, and with a voice more perfect than I could have hoped, asked the right question.

"The right man hasn't approached yet." I said with my back to him.

"I'll just sit here while you figure out what you need." And with that he sat down. 

He was more attractive up close than he was from across the room. He was definitely taller than I expected - maybe a foot taller than my 5'6" - and probably close to twice my weight, with what appeared to be a tightly muscled body. His black pants and dark blue button down shirt was perfect against his black-as-night skin.

"Have you decided what you need?" He said while looking me over closely.

"Well, I need what everyone needs." I replied.

"Naw, pretty lady, that is too vague. What does a sexy, single, woman hope to find in this bar?"

"You're a little off. I am a sexy, married, woman." And with that I returned the favor of running my eyes over his body.

"That's a little better! I like the detail. So, what is a sexy, married, white woman hope to find tonight?"

"This sexy, married, white woman is hoping to find what every sexy, married, white woman needs." My heart was racing as I said this, but I did not take my eyes from his.

"Better still! But don't hide behind everyone else. Tell me, what this sexy, married, white woman needs."

"A stereotype. I need a stereotype." I whispered. He met my overtly racist comment with a smile.

"You're in luck. Now finish your drink." As we rotated back towards the bar, he pulled his stool closer to mine, and directed my hand into his lap.

"You're going to remember this stereotype." And he might be right. My hand rested somewhere along a thick shaft, a few inches down his pant leg.

"Bartender! Put my drinks on this lovely lady's tab, and bring her the bill now." He said this loud enough for those close to hear, but I didn't put up a fight, I just signed the bill.

"Now you sweet little thing, you're going to kiss me so all these boys understand."



And I did, and it was sexy. Emotionally, I felt as if I was on stage, physically I felt butterflies as his tongue explored my mouth and his hand explore my ass. "Lead me back to your room." I complied without question or hesitation.

The elevator ride was long, but I enjoyed being held close by him. I enjoyed his hand on my hip. And I enjoyed the image that was racing through my mind.

When we got back to the room, he continued to control all of our actions. "Undress me, and treat my cloths with respect." I did, of course. I unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it from his impossibly broad chest, and hung it in the closet. Then I helped him out of his shoes, and his socks, and carefully placed them at the foot of the bed. I then undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants, unzipped his fly, and lowered his pants to the floor. I took these, too, to the closet and hung them neatly. Finally, I removed his boxers, folded them, and placed them in a drawer.

He stood before me totally naked. He was breathtaking! His penis, still not fully erect, was thickest I had ever seen, and was definitely much longer than average.

"You look good in that dress. Leave it on. Do you know what sexy, married, white women like best?" He asked while rocking his hips slightly making his penis swing from side to side.

"Tell me." I asked as I moved closer.

"They like sucking black cock, and I am getting tired of waiting." With that I approached, kneeled before him, and pulled his head into my mouth. I could barely get it in, and instead I ran my tongue around it, and pulled on him hard with both hands.

My stroking quickly brought him to full strength, and I tried to pull as much of him into my mouth as possible. The experience was incredibly sexy and I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter.

"Come on now, you can do better." And with that he pushed himself deep into my mouth. The feeling was uncomfortable as it stretched my skin, but the feeling in the back of my mouth was amazing.

"That's a little better." He seemed pleased as I sucked air through my nose and he took my mouth. He kept a pace comfortable for him, challenging for me, but certain to end in pleasure! After almost 15 minutes of hard work, he pulled himself from my mouth.

"Oh, you look sad." And I am sure I did. "Don't worry, you're a good cocksucker, and I'll let you do it again in 45 minutes, but right now I got something to do."



"What?!" I panted, pleading with him with my eyes not to stop.

"I got to fuck a baby into that tight blonde pussy. Take off your panties."



This was so wrong that it was perfect. My thong was off almost before he finished speaking, and the head of his penis was swimming in my wetness shortly after that. After teasing with a few shallow thrusts, he pushed his head into me. I gasped, but he was the one to speak.

"Damn girl, you're tight. You sure you been fucked before?" 

I was concentrating too hard to answer, instead focusing my attention on letting him push deeper. Which, thank God, he did. Making short, but sure, progress he pushed deeper and deeper, pausing only to let me catch my breath. 



"How does that feel?" Words went through my mind - impossible, perfect, complete - but all I could do was moan approvingly. And with that I felt him pull back until only his head remained inside of me, pause for just a moment, and rush back into me. I came immediately, and uncontrollably.

"Shit! That was easy! Damn woman, you're gonna love this!" And I did. With long, deep, impossibly powerful strokes, he fucked me. He fucked me hard. I slipped from orgasm to orgasm, as he went from strong pace to a punishing one.

"Talk to me woman. What do you want?"

Although not always loud, I took the opportunity to express myself. I told him to fuck me, I told him I loved his cock, I told him to cum inside me, I told him everything he wanted to hear.

"Beg me, bitch!" And I did, repeatedly, until a final, painfully deep thrust announced his orgasm. The pressure from his release was unbelievable. He was unbelievable.

He lay on top of me for a few minutes, catching his breath, before rolling over. Once off me, I stood in his line of sight, and finally started to undress. First I stepped out of my shoes, pulled my dress over my head, and removed my bra. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and stood there for his inspection.

He smiled his approval as the phone rang. I held a finger to my lips as I answered. "Hey Babe, how are you?" I said to my husband as I sat at the edge of the bed next to my lover. "It's been a challenging job, but I think I nailed it!"



As I spoke to my husband I started stroking my lover back to full strength. I stood as the conversation drew to an end. With my eyes locked on my lover, and his cum dripping between my legs, I said goodnight to my husband and told him I loved him.



Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #01



Please vote. Please give me the support of your vote.

I dedicate this story to Walter from Southern California. 

*

With his wife, Ruth, no longer giving him sex, Jay has inappropriate, incestuous thoughts for his daughter.

Jay turned to wave goodbye to his daughter, Kim, before getting in the cab. After unintentionally seeing her naked twice in the last two weeks, now every time he looked at her, unable to help himself from seeing the naked image of her in his mind's eye, he imagined her without her clothes. Killing him inside with him feeling so guilty for his misplaced, sexual feelings, he was filled with sexual frustration and horniness for his wife that has suddenly manifested for his daughter. With his daughter's her long, lush brown hair and big, beautiful, brown eyes, Kim reminded him of Ruth twenty-five years ago.

Sometimes difficult to tell one from the other when hearing them in different parts of the house, they even have the same voice. They have the same inflections and share the same laugh. If only he wasn't so horny for his wife but with Ruth no longer giving him sex, he was so sexually frustrated. If his wife was sexually satisfying him in bed, he wouldn't even think such incestuous thoughts about his daughter. With him now a perversely perverted man, a man who's been thinking about having sex with his daughter, he blamed his unloving wife for all that he is today.

Now addicted to porn and all things pornographic, his wife has turned him into a sexual monster. Once a loving husband, now addicted to sex, he's a sexual degenerate. As long as the women are of age, 18-years-old and/or older, he'd have sex with any woman, anytime, and anywhere. Sex, sex, sex. When he's not focused on work, he's thinking about sex.

No matter where he is, he's thinking about sex. Even when he's walking through the airport, he's checking out women. When he's flying, he's checking out the stewardesses and the other female passengers. Even the hotels where he stays, the restaurants where he eats, and the bars where he drinks, are perfect places to meet women. Luckily for him, able to keep his wits about him and his cock as hard as his desire to meet and have sex with women, he doesn't drink anymore. Seltzer water or coffee is what he'll drink when sitting in a bar to take in the ambience of the room while checking out the women.

He loved his daughter and felt guilty leaving her alone to fend for herself with his wife and his wife's numerous boyfriends that she'd surely invite to the house in his absence. Yet, Kim's an adult. She can take care of herself. She's a strong woman who already knows what she wants in life.

With her exerting more control over Ruth than he can, she can handle her mother more than he could handle his wife at her age. She's even better at handling her mother now than he is. Right from day one, his wife always controlled him with the promise of sex. It's amazing how many years he believed her promises that she'd give him sex until he stopped believing her anymore. Now everything she said was a drunken lie. If only he had more of Kim's sense of self, her outspokenness, and her confidence when he was her age, he never would have married Ruth. In hindsight, a horny 20-year-old who thought more with his penis than with his brain, marrying Ruth was the biggest mistake of his life.

Ruth giving birth to their daughter was the only good thing about their marriage. Even though she looked just like her mother when Ruth was her age, she was more like him where it mattered, on the inside. Glad that she was more like him instead of more like his wife, she was so very much like him in so many ways. Kind and loving, she had a good heart and would make some lucky man a loving wife and her children a wonderful mother. A logical thinker, she could see the lies her mother told that he couldn't. With her having a happier childhood, albeit with her mother a drunken whore, she still had a better chance at finding happiness than he ever did.

Cursed to marry Ruth, even now, twenty-five years later, with some things never changing and some things always remaining the same, he's as lost now as he was then. He's just going through the motions of living life while suffering through his unhappy marriage. Pretending he's happy, tired of having the same arguments over and again, he suffers his sadness in silence and without complaint. With him not home long enough to complain, when he's not working, he's traveling. No matter where he goes, he's always able to find the comfort of a woman.

If it's not enough that his wife is a drunk, she's a whore too. He could deal with her drinking. He could get her help, attend AA meetings with her, and put her in rehab somewhere. He couldn't deal with her picking up men and bringing them home to fuck and suck. He couldn't deal with her exchanging sex for booze. Even though it was seemingly sexually exciting for him to know that his wife was fucking and sucking other men, he didn't want to know the details. With him not getting anything sexual from her, the sexual details of her having sex with other men would hurt him.

The only thing that saved him, his temporary reprieve that allowed him to continue his marriage of misery, gone more than he's home, is escaping his life and his wife to travel the country and the world. He couldn't imagine taking Ruth with him anywhere. He'd rather leave her home and travel alone than to have her embarrass him by getting drunk in public and having sex with one of his customers.

When he wasn't hiding from his wife while at work, he was hiding from her when traveling on a plane and living out of a suitcase in a hotel. Whenever he was somewhere else, no matter where he was, he was safe from having to listen to her droning, angry voice whenever he was far away. If it wasn't for the dire prospect of her taking a chunk of his money in a divorce settlement, he'd divorce her. Yet for one reason or another, even more than the thought of losing all of the money, for some reason or a multitude of reasons, he can't.

A telling sign that their marriage is over, he'd think his wife would be at the front door to see him off too, but she wasn't. Nowhere to be found, she's probably pouring herself a drink, even at this early hour of the morning, in celebration of him leaving. Leaving on a ten day, business trip, even though he looked forward to running away, he hated when his trips included his weekends. Then, when he returned to work the day after coming home, having terrible jet lag, he felt as if he didn't have any time to himself to decompress and relax. 

"Bye, Daddy. Bring me something back from Japan," said his daughter Kim waving and smiling. "I'm going to miss you. Stay safe and have a safe flight. Call me when you land."

In her saying goodbye, telling him that she'll miss him, to stay safe, hoping he has a safe flight, and reminding him to call her when he lands, she acted more like his wife than his daughter. Yet, with his sexual addiction creeping in even when saying goodbye to his daughter, he was incorrigible in his sexual desire for women, any woman, even his own flesh and blood. Suddenly, he looked at Kim with sexual lust as if she was his wife. If only his wife was more like his daughter, they wouldn't be having marital problems right now.

He thought of the kimono he'd buy her, something blue, her favorite color. He looked at Kim as if she was a Geisha girl, his very own, submissive Geisha girl. He imagined her dressed in a blue, silk kimono and ready to service his every sexual whimsy and perversely perverted, sexual desire. He imagined her naked beneath the decorative robe. With her hair up and her big tits blousing out the front of the Japanese oriental robe, she'd look so pretty in a colorful kimono with a contrasting obi tied around her waist. Just as he's always wondered what nuns wore beneath their habits, he's always wondered what Geisha girls wore beneath their kimonos.

Digressing in thought, he wondered if his daughter is as sexually submissive when having sex with her boyfriend as he was when having sex with her mother. With Ruth the dominant one, by the time he got married, he was already pussy whipped. Maybe Kim's not submissive at all. With him having overheard her giving her boyfriend phone sex in the way that her mother used to give him phone sex before they were married, maybe she's as sexually aggressive as her mother.

It's funny how he's changed and how Ruth hasn't. It's insightful how he's grown and how Ruth hasn't. It's telling how he's matured and how Ruth hasn't. Able to see the real truth now that the sexual fog of control that she had over him has lifted, she's the same bitch now as she was when he married her. It was his fault for not seeing what she was then and still is now. If he was to blame anyone for his disastrous marriage, he needs to blame himself. He wanted her and now he's stuck with her.

With him the strong man and her the weak woman, it was his fault for not exerting his control over her. Only, with him always the submissive one, he was never a strong man, especially when around her. With her always the dominant one, especially when around him, she was never a weak woman. It was his fault for not testing her and pushing her limits in making her give him what he sexually wanted. Still, as demonstrated by her not changing who she is, he'd be nuts to think that he could ever change her, especially now. The only one who could make any changes in her was herself and why would she change when she was having a good time being a bitch?

What he wanted then is what he still wants now. Only what he wants now is with other woman and not with her. What he wanted before is what she gave to every other man. What he wanted was sex. What he wanted was her to not only make love to him but also for her to want to make love to him. What he wanted was for her to not only fuck him but also for her to want to fuck him. What he wanted was her to not only blow him but also for her to want to blow him. What he wanted was to cum in her mouth and watch her swallow his cum. Only, too late now, even if she was to volunteer to suck him, allow him to cum in her mouth, and swallow him, he'd rather receive that from another woman instead of from her, anyone but from her.

What he found sexually appealing when having sex with Ruth before they were married, he didn't now. Now that they don't have sex, haven't had sex in years, she's sexually aggressive with other men instead of with him. Having already gone through the hurt and the rejection, he used to be angry with her for not giving him sex but now he's not. Now, with him getting what he sexually needs from a multitude of other women, he doesn't care that she doesn't want to sexually be with him.

It doesn't bother him that she doesn't want him sexually, even though it does. It doesn't bother him that she sucks and fucks dozens of men for booze, even though it does. It doesn't bother him that his wife is a drunken whore, even though it does. It doesn't bother him that she belittles him and makes him feel small, even though it does. It doesn't bother him that she doesn't respect him by appreciating all that he does for her, even though it does.

He'd be nuts for any and all of that not to bother him. He'd be just as crazy as she is not to feel used and abused. He feels like the sucker that he is for continuing to financially support her by giving her the good life that she doesn't deserve. Why should he financially take care of her when she doesn't sexually take care of him? He should divorce her. He should throw her cheating ass out of his house.

Yet, for one reason or another, he can't. He just can't. More of a loving husband than she's been a loving wife, he's had some good times with her. More than that, they have a daughter, albeit a fully grown, adult daughter. If they've come this far by not divorcing, why divorce now when they both found a way to get around their empty marriage by having sex with other people? A strong man, a confident man, an educated man, and an intelligent man, he never thought he'd become a cuckold husband but seemingly he has.

"I'll bring you a kimono from Tokyo," he said while imagining her stripping naked in front of him to try it on and asking for his help to get dressed.

In the way she used to do when she was a little girl so very long ago, she shot him a look of happy surprise. If only she knew that he was just thinking of her naked, she wouldn't be smiling. Some parents she has, a drunken whore of a mother and a degenerate father who has inappropriate, incestuous thoughts for his daughter. With both of her parents addicted to sex, he wondered if she was addicted to sex too. With her maternal grandfather a drunk and now her mother a drunk, he wondered if his daughter would be genetically predisposed to being a drunk too.

"A kimono? I've always wanted to wear a kimono," she said with a laugh while deeply bowing to him.

She waved goodbye to him again while he seductively stared at her. Suddenly he felt a bit perversely perverted for leering at his own daughter. With him always so horny, he couldn't help himself from enjoying the sexy view of her. He liked watching his daughter's big, jiggling boobs bounce behind her low cut blouse and C cup bra when she waved. Unless they were American tourists or had breast implants, he wouldn't be seeing very many woman with big boobs in Japan. Not his first trip to the orient, looking forward to taking time to relax, he had a thing for Asian women.

As evidenced by his leering stare at his daughter, he was already sexually frustrated thinking about his wife having sex with other men while he was gone. Truth be told, even though he tried his best not to show it, he was hurt, rejected, and angered by the sex that Ruth freely gave others but always denied him. Yet twisted by his emotions of jealousy for his wife and confounded by his lust for other women, he was already horny thinking about all of the Asian women he'd meet and have sex with while in Japan.

He wondered what he'd be like it he wasn't addicted to sex. Perhaps he'd have a more normal reaction to Ruth cheating on him. Perhaps he'd be angry. Perhaps he'd fly into a rage with her sexual confessions and her flaunting her infidelities in his face. Perhaps he already would have divorced her. He didn't know. All he knew was what he was feeling now, which was callousness towards Ruth and the sexual, excited, anticipation of meeting Japanese woman.

"Call me," said her father. "Good luck with your final exams," said Jay proud that his daughter was doing so well in college.

He gave his daughter a loving smile and blew her a kiss before getting in the cab.

* * * * *

As soon as he told his daughter to call him, he thought of his daughter giving him phone sex while he masturbated himself in his hotel room. He'd never have sex with his daughter, of course. He'd never do that to her. Yet, sometimes, especially after he overheard her giving hot, phone sex to her boyfriend, he wondered what it would be like for his daughter to blow him while role playing and pretending she was his wife.

No doubt something no normal father imagines, and uncomfortable for even harboring those incestuous thoughts of his daughter, he never even imagined his daughter sucking cock until he heard her talking in great detail of giving a blowjob. He never imagined his daughter sucking him until she grew up looking so much like her mother. With his wife denying him the use of her mouth, it was a natural transition to think of his daughter giving him the sexual pleasure that his wife wouldn't. Especially after she painted him such an explicit, sexual image of her giving her boyfriend a blowjob, he's now able to imagine his daughter on her knees and sucking him.

"If you were here right now, Charlie, I'd stroke your cock before sucking your cock," she said. "I'd kiss your prick and lick your prick before licking and sucking your balls."

'Oh, my God,' Jay thought with him unable to stop eavesdropping in on his daughter's very personal and very private phone conversation.

"I'd stare up at you with my brown eyes with your cock slowly sliding across my lips before taking you inside and burying you in my mouth," she said unmercifully teasing her boyfriend. "Then, while cupping your balls in my hand, I'd stroke you while sucking you. I'd stroke you faster and suck you deeper until you exploded your cum in my mouth."

'Oh, my God,' thought Jay while thinking of his daughter stroking him faster while sucking him deeper. It took all the self-control that Jay had for him not to unzip himself, walk in the living room, and offer his erect cock to his daughter.

"I wouldn't remove your cock from my mouth until I swallowed every drop of you," she said with such a syrupy sexy voice that he wished she was his sexy girlfriend instead of his daughter.

Obviously thinking that she was home alone, she was explicitly explaining the blowjob she'd give her boyfriend if he were there with her now. Obviously horny when talking to her boyfriend, and with her making him horny by eavesdropping, they were having phone sex. A terrible thing for a father to do but after overhearing that sexy, erotic, phone call, sometimes he masturbates himself while thinking of Kim naked and having sex with her. Just as she related in talking to her boyfriend, sometimes he masturbates while imagining Kim sucking his cock too.

Something that Ruth used to do with him when dating him, as soon as she married him, the phone sex stopped. As soon as they had baby Kim, the sex stopped. Now he wondered if Kim would be a carbon copy of her mother. Wicked hot sexually before getting married but cooling to a cold fish once she had a baby, maybe with him not alone, he wondered if all women were like that or if it was only Ruth.

If it wasn't enough overhearing Kim talking about giving her boyfriend a blowjob, there was more. If all that he overheard was his daughter's phone sex conversation, he could have erased those erotic thoughts from his mind. Only, more than just her words that painted an image in his mind of his daughter sucking cock, she gave him a physical image of her to go along with her sexy, phone conversation. More than just overhearing her phone call, she was in the living room talking on the phone while lying on the couch naked with her bathrobe spread as wide open as were her legs.

'Oh, my God,' he thought not believing what he was seeing after not believing what he was hearing.

The first time seeing his adult daughter naked, when he first saw her in that compromising, sexual position, he couldn't believe his eyes. He hasn't peeped on anyone since the time that he used to skulk around the house to watch his mother dress and undress nearly thirty years ago. With him having an unobstructed view of his daughter's brown, trimmed pussy, her naked breasts, and her pink, erect nipples, he watched her from behind the kitchen door, through to the dining room, and into the living room. Something he's never seen or imagined his daughter doing, surprising the shit out of him, she was touching herself while erotically talking to her boyfriend on the phone about giving him a blowjob.

"Oh, my God. Fuck me," he said mumbling under his breath. 

Tempted to masturbate himself right there, he fingered the head of his cock through his pants. Having never even seen his wife masturbate herself, while knowing she did with all of the sexual toys she has, vibrators and dildos, it was hot watching his daughter masturbating herself. Enjoying her serendipitous masturbation show, he watched Kim feeling her big breasts and fingering her erect nipples before she reached her horny hand down to finger her pussy while talking to her boyfriend on the phone.

Even from the kitchen, he could see his daughter's fingers rubbing her clit and fucking her glistening pussy. In the way she was positioned on the couch in clear view of him and with her ankles resting on the arm of the sofa, he could see her from the neck down but she couldn't see him peeping through the kitchen door crack. Even if she wasn't his daughter, he would have been sexually aroused coming upon a woman masturbating herself while talking dirty to her boyfriend on the phone. Somehow it was even more sexually exciting that the one masturbating herself was his daughter.




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #01



* * * * *

He didn't even have to question how and where that incestuous level of sexual attraction developed. With his wife refusing to suck his cock, dabbling with his prick by merely licking it and kissing it, after twenty-five years of unhappy marriage and a terrible sex life, sadly and sexually frustratingly, she's never completely taken him in her mouth. Whether he asked her, begged her, or tried bribing her with gifts, she's still never blown him. 

"Blow me, Ruth. Suck my cock," said Jay practically begging his wife for some loving, sexual attention.

She gave him a look as if he was insanely delusional. 

"I'm not going to blow you, Jay," she said removing her hand from his stiff prick with contempt. "I'll never blow you. I'm a good girl and good girls don't suck cock," she said lying about being a good girl when she was nothing but a whore. "And being that I don't want to get pregnant, if you'd like and if that will make you happy, you may cum on my tits," she said with superiority while unbuttoning her nightgown and exposing her breasts. "I'll clean up the mess when you're done," she said sighing loudly while rolling her eyes.

Whenever they did have sex, which was rare and rarer as the years passed, especially now with her being sexually satisfied by a small army of men, she always relegated him to ejaculating on her naked breasts. As if he was a teenager or a second rate boyfriend instead of her husband, he hated ejaculating on her breasts. With him able to justify having sex with other women because his wife doesn't give him sex, he had the attitude that it was her fault that he cheats on her. He truly believed that it was her fault that their marriage is a miserable mess. Able to justify his guilt away, he also believed that it was her fault that he's addicted to sex. If she had been more of a wife to him, maybe he'd never look at another woman in a sexual way.

Yet, he could have divorced her. If he was that unhappy, he could have ended their marriage. Unless that's what he wanted, he didn't have to become a sexual addict addicted to sex. He had other options. Only, just as Ruth seemingly used her bad marriage as her excuse to drink and to have sex with other men, he used his bad marriage to cheat on his wife with a multitude of women around the country and all over the world.

Sad but true, bizarre even, and as unbelievable as it may seem, especially with his wife being such a whore, but he's never had the sexual pleasure of cumming in her mouth. Yet, for the sake of them buying her a fifth of gin and a bottle of vermouth, his friends and neighbors who she's had sex with have all ejaculated in her willing mouth. In a drunken argument one day, she confessed her unfaithfulness and validated his suspicions of her having multiple sexual affairs by telling him that she's sucked his friends, their neighbors, and strangers. Then, further rubbing her infidelity in his face, she told him that they all ejaculated in her mouth and she swallowed their cum.

"Fucking, drunken whore," he said to her.

Thinking she'd be mad that he called her a fucking, drunken whore, she laughed.

"You stupid bastard. What do you think I do when you're gone traversing the planet, having your sexual affairs with women, and I'm home alone? What do you think I do when you don't leave me any money to buy anything? Do you think I watch television? Do you think I sit quietly and read a book? Do you think I'm home cleaning your house? Do you think I knit?"

He could only imagine what she did when he wasn't home. Bracing himself, he was ready for her to tell him exactly what she did.

"I didn't figure you for a homebody. I figured you be looking for someone to show you a good time," he said suddenly imagining his wife in the arms of another man while admitting that he was a cuckold husband.

She gave him a look that made him cower before telling him what made him sick to his stomach. Then, when she gave him a sexy look, her words sexually excited him instead of sickened him. Oh, yeah, he was definitely her cuckold bitch alright.

"I pick up men at the mall and invite them home," she said stepping closer to him. "I fuck them and suck them," she said poking her manicured fingernail in his chest while staring up at his face. "As long as they buy me booze, I allow them feel me through my clothes while kissing me before they strip me naked. Then, after they make love to me and after they fuck me real good, I allow them to cum in my mouth and I swallow their cum," she said laughing in his face.

While waiting for him to respond, mocking him and teasing him, as if she was giving someone a blowjob, she moved her hand back and forth in front of her mouth while pushing her cheek out and in with her tongue. The bitch of a cuckold husband that he is, instead of confronting her and showing her his sexual frustration and his rage, he walked away from her. He wanted to slap her across her face but he didn't. Instead, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to have sex with her.

Instead of getting angry that she fucked and sucked so many other men and not him, he was sexually excited that she allowed other men to ejaculate their cum in her mouth and she swallowed their cum. Not fair and not right, he's paid for her booze for years and she's never blown him. Instead of her falling to her knees to suck him in appreciation of him supporting her, she dared hold out her greedy hand while expecting him to give her more money.

"Don't forget to leave me money for food, gas, and cigarettes," she said not mentioning the booze.

Instead of allowing him to hump her mouth, fuck her face, and cum in her mouth, the fucking bitch, no good cunt, fucks him in his ass every chance she gets. He should have thrown her out of his house then after she confessed to picking up men at the mall. He should have thrown her out of his house years ago when she confessed to sucking his friends and neighbors, but he didn't. He should have divorced her ass with her confession of allowing them all to cum in her mouth, but he couldn't. He should have forced her to blow him after she told him that she swallowed their cum but, with his feelings of rejection making him feel like less of a man, he'd never force himself on her. Even if she's a prostitute that he has to pay her money, he'd rather be with someone who wants to be with him that to continue begging his wife for sex.

* * * * *

Whenever he was beyond being horny, so horny that he couldn't even see and/or think straight, in the way he had sex with his mother so very long ago, he wondered what it would be like to make love to his daughter before fucking his daughter. Only, his physical, sexual attraction to his daughter was nothing more than masturbation material and sexual thoughts that are obviously inflamed by his addiction to sex. Realizing that he was just horny, he really didn't think of his daughter in that inappropriate, incestuous way. In the way that he no longer has sex with his wife, he'd never have sex with his daughter.

Yet, after seeing his daughter naked the first time when coming home unexpectedly, when she was masturbating herself on the couch while giving her boyfriend phone sex, he saw her naked again. Oddly curious to see his daughter naked twice in such a short span of time, especially when he's never seen her naked before, he couldn't help but wonder if she was deliberately flashing him but somehow he knew she wasn't. When he saw her naked the second time, just as he was unable to stop himself from staring at her the first time he saw her naked, he couldn't stop staring at her naked body the second time he saw her naked.

Just as he wanted to masturbate in front of her then, he wanted to masturbate in front of her now. Just as he wanted to give her a cum bath then, he wanted to give her a cum bath now. With her reminding him so much of a younger, naked version of his wife, he was able to control himself from masturbating over the naked image of her until later. Instead of showing his incestuous lust for his daughter, he just stared.

* * * * *

The second time he saw Kim without her clothes, was when he came home from work early again. Obviously thinking she was home alone, she was in her bedroom with her bedroom door wide open. She was wearing her headphones with her eyes closed while dancing to music. As hot to watch his daughter dancing, it was even hotter to watch her dancing naked. As if she was bouncing up and down on his engorged cock, he watched her big breasts bounce up and down and side to side with her every dancing motion.

Having never seen his 22-year-old daughter naked before that fateful day when she was giving her boyfriend phone sex while masturbating herself, he couldn't believe he was seeing her naked again now. With nothing more than his sexual addiction fueling his curiosity, he was always curious what she looked like without her clothes and now he knew. Hell, just because she's his daughter and he's her father, she's still a woman and he's a man. With her having the same body parts as any other woman, tits, ass, and pussy, he's masturbated over every woman he's ever met while imagining them naked and now that included his daughter.

With him having the same incestuous thoughts of masturbating over his dancing, naked daughter later, in the way he masturbated over his naked, daughter masturbating, he was incorrigible. As if she was some other woman instead of his daughter, he couldn't stop staring at all that she was showing and all that he was seeing. With her not knowing he was halfway up the stairs and standing there in the darkened hallway and watching her through the slots in the bannister, he stayed there for a few minutes while enjoying the sexy, albeit incestuous show.

With his wife not giving him sex and with his naked daughter looking like a much younger version of his wife when naked, he couldn't help himself from being sexually attracted to his daughter now as he was to his wife then. Even though Ruth was a drunk and a whore, he was still so sexually attracted to his wife back then for him not to be sexually attracted to his wife's clone, Kim, their daughter. Only, after being acutely aware all of the negative ramifications of having incestuous sex, even if Kim offered her naked body to him, he'd refuse, at least he liked to think that he would.

He may enjoy the naked sight of her masturbating and now dancing without her clothes but he'd never have sex with his daughter. He'd never touch her or so much as feel her through her clothes never mind trying to have sex with her while she's naked. He couldn't even imagine himself kissing her, French kissing his daughter in a sexual way.

Instead of stepping in her room, with him in plain sight of her now as he soon would be to her when she popped open her eyes, he pretended he had just arrived home. Not wanting to unduly alarm her, when he reached the top of the stairs, he banged his briefcase on the banister loud enough for her to hear him that he was there. He wanted her to hear him. Curious to see her reaction to him seeing her naked, he wanted her to catch him looking. Just as he hoped she'd do, she turned to him and screamed. 

"Daddy! Oh, my God! What are you doing home?"

Covering her nakedness with her arms and hands, she cowered down as if squatting to take a pee without sitting on the toilet and reached out her hand to slam shut her bedroom door. With her looking totally humiliated, he was satisfied by her embarrassed look. He hoped that her flashing him her naked body wasn't deliberate and he was satisfied that seemingly it wasn't. All he needed was another woman in his life who was a slut.

If it wasn't enough that his wife was a whore, he didn't want his daughter labeled as a whore too, an incestuous whore at that. He was glad that his daughter wasn't anything like her mother. She didn't even drink. Even more than that, he was glad that Kim didn't share their sexual addiction. He wanted his daughter to have a better life without being a slave to alcohol and sex in the way that her mother is. In the way that her mother and father have sex with multiple partners, he hoped she'd find one man, marry him, have children, and live happily ever after.

* * * * *

As sure as he knew there'd be miles of traffic on the way to the airport, he knew, as soon as he left his wife, Ruth would be making plans with Christopher. Chris was her latest boy toy. A young man who looked even younger than his 25-year-old age, he was young enough to be her son and she was old enough to be his mother. She ought to be ashamed of herself but assuredly she's not. If anything, she's no doubt proud that she can still attract the attention of a young man with a hard cock.

More than her having sex with men, young men, she was his God damn wife. Some wife she is cheating on him in his own house and seemingly behind his back. Yet, they both knew what each other did to destroy their marriage and their happy home, a marriage that was never faithful and a home that was never happy. Obviously hoping she'd make him guilty enough to leave her money for booze and cigarettes, arguing with him over this and that, she always started the same shit every time before he left. Culminating in her reminding him to leave her money, the only way he could shut her up was by giving her money.

"Don't forget to leave me some money," she always remind him again and again when he's taking a shower, getting dressed, and packing his bag.

He should make a recording of her rants so that she doesn't have to waste her breath and waste his time and energy by upsetting him. He could just play the recording back to her as he walked out the door. He knew as soon as he left, she'd start drinking and wouldn't stop drinking until he arrived home. He knew as soon as he left, she'd be on the phone talking to Chris, Joe, Tony, Mike, Bob, Dave, or whoever was her latest, and telling him how awful he treats her and how unhappy she is.

"Drunken bitch! Dirty whore! Filthy cunt," he said under his breath while carrying his suitcase downstairs.

He hoped she didn't fall asleep drunk on the couch with a lit cigarette and burn down the house. Then, again, as long as his daughter was out of the house at college or staying overnight with friends, he hoped she'd fall asleep drunk on the couch with a lit cigarette and burn down the house with her in it. He hated the bitch. Unable to sift through the nightmare of horrific memories to remember 25-years back, lost in a sea of drunken fights, he couldn't even remember why he married her. He must have loved her enough once for him to put a ring on her finger.

Even more than not understanding why he married her, he didn't understand why he couldn't leave her, throw her the fuck out of his house, and divorce her cheating, drunken ass. In the way he was used and abused for sex by his mother, and now used and abused by his drunken, whore of a wife, maybe he enjoys being used and abused by women. Now with his daughter having him wrapped around her little finger, in a way, he's used and abused by her too. Whatever she wants, he gives her. Maybe allowing women to use and abuse him is his personal cross to bear and his atonement in paying for all of his sins and transgressions he's made against women in this life and, perhaps, in a prior life.

With him not giving it much thought until now, maybe women using him and abusing him sexually excites him. Maybe he gets off with his wife having sex with other men, much younger men. With him always suspecting that he was, maybe he's one of those cuckold husbands. Only he's too busy working, traveling, and having sex with other women to analyze himself in that way. He'll leave all of that head shrinking work up to his sex therapist in hoping to help him unravel the mystery behind his sexual addiction.

Maybe Ruth's drunken, whoring behavior is his price he must pay for all of the extramarital affairs he's had with women all over the country and all over the world, and for the brief, incestuous relationship that he had with his mother a lifetime ago. He always blamed his wife for his sexual transgressions but truth be told, perhaps his reason for not divorcing her, he's as much at fault as she is. He's as much of a sex addict as she is. The only difference between the two of them is, a health nut, he doesn't smoke and, now a teetotaler, he doesn't drink anymore. With her free to do whatever she sexually wants while married to him, he's free to do whatever he sexually wants while married to her. In some convoluted way, they've morphed into having the perfect marriage.

To be continued...

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Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #02



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I dedicate this story to Walter from Southern California.

*

With that shaping the man that he is today, Jay remembers the sexual affair he had with his mother.

In defense of his incestuous relationship that Jay had with his mother, with him unremorseful, unrepentant, and unregretful that he had sex with his mother, their brief, sexual affair was more than just incest. Their brief, sexual affair was more than just a mother having incestuous sex with her son. Deeper than any physical, emotional, and sexual relationship he's ever had, the sex they had was more than just blind lust.

Shocking to anyone not in their incestuous situation, their romance was more about love than it was about sex. In the way that he's never loved any other woman as much, not his wife and not even his daughter, he loved his mother and she loved him. Only, by crossing the incestuous line and opening Pandora's Box, unable to ever go back, if they're guilty of anything, they're guilty of loving one another a little too much.

Who knows what would have happened between them had she not been taken so early in life in that fatal, car accident. He was only 18-years-old when she died. Unashamed and unembarrassed to admit his incestuous love for her, he never loved another woman in the way that he loved his mother.

His mother was not only a saint, she was his sexual Goddess. The first woman he had sex with, she took his virginity when he turned eighteen. Back then, she was the leading lady of his life. She was his biggest movie star. What Elizabeth Taylor was to Richard Burton and Maureen O'Hara was to John Wayne, his mother was to him. 

Looking back at it now, her having sex with him was something she never would have done had she not known was going to prematurely die. Yet, unless she had a dream, a premonition, or had planned on committing suicide, how would she know that in less than 24-hours she'd be dead? As her final goodbye, the night before her fatal car crash, tragically befitting as if a sexy scene written in a Eugene O'Neill, Arthur Miller, or Tennessee Williams play, she had sex with him.

Ever since that tragic day, he's been riddled with guilt and remorse not because he had sex with his mother but because she died the day after their incestuous affair. Even though he knew he had nothing to do with her dying, he somehow felt responsible for her death. What helped him make peace with her dying was truly believing that having sex with his mother had nothing to do with her death. What helped him make peace with her dying was truly believing that her having sex with him was her gift for him to always remember her and never forget her. What gave him peace and the strength to survive, to persevere, and to flourish without her was in knowing that she loved him as much as he loved her and that she sexually wanted him as much as he sexually wanted her. 

Yet with remorse eating away at him, he still somehow blamed himself for the untimely death of his mother. Always wondering what happened, he drove himself crazy speculating her frame of mind before the tragic accident. Maybe she felt guilty that she had sex with her son and purposely drove her car into a tree. Maybe preoccupied thinking about having sex with him the night before those troubling thoughts caused her to drive her car off the road the next day. Maybe it was as simple as her having a blowout and losing control of her car. Not knowing what preceded her driving into a tree, he didn't know how it happened.

Back then, few cars had air bags in the way that all cars have air bags today. Even if her car was equipped with an air bag, he didn't think that an air bag would have saved her. Unlike hitting a wall head-on where the energy is dissipated across the width of the car's entire front end, hitting a pole or a tree, head-on focuses the force of all of the energy of the crash in one area, the driver. Hitting a pole, a tree, or even another moving vehicle, due to the energy being greater with two vehicles moving in opposite directions, are usually fatal accidents.

Even though the thought of her committing suicide crossed his mind because of the guilt he felt for having sex with his mother, he believed she may have felt the same guilt too. Yet, he immediately ruled her taking her own life when thinking how happy she was when in bed with him a few hours before. With his mother generally such a happy and well-balanced person, a free spirit, he couldn't imagine her being sad enough to kill herself. Maybe suddenly saddened over the loss of her husband, with him cheating on her with another woman, she was driving drunk. With there being no witnesses to her fatal accident and with the police not routinely doing toxicology reports back then, when not suspecting foul play, unless he was to exhume her body, he'd never know what really happened.

Especially after God decided to take his mother prematurely to Heaven before her time, now that she's dead, he was just glad that he finally got to sexually experience his mother after lusting over her and loving her for so long. Seemingly appropriate, he thought of one of his quotes from Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem, In Memoriam A.H.H. that he recently learned in English Literature class.

"I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to love and lost than never to have loved at all."

Most definitely, in this era of broken homes and absentee parents, he was lucky to have his mother by his side. In this era of abandoned children and foster care, he was lucky to have a mother who loved him, truly loved him. He was lucky to have loved his mother than to never have loved her at all. Yet, it was one thing for him to love his mother but quite another thing for him to make love to his mother. Now that she's gone, unremorseful that they had sex, he was glad that they did. The last memory he has of her alive, he remembers that night that they were intimately together as if it happened last night instead of nearly thirty years ago.

* * * * *

Unbeknownst to him, she was already in bed when he lightly knocked on her closed, bedroom door. His pretense in hoping to catch her indisposed, in her bra and panty, topless, and/or naked, he wanted to show her something he found in an old copy of Life magazine. Sometimes, in the way he hoped to catch her without her clothes, he couldn't help but feel a little like Norman Bates of the Bates Motel in Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho fame. With him not hearing a response, perhaps he knocked too lightly. 

"Mom?" He lightly knocked again, a little louder this time. "Are you decent? May I come in?"

His loaded question, are you decent, always evoked a sexual fantasy in him. As always he hoped, he hoped she wasn't decently dressed at all but invited him inside her bedroom anyway. He'd like nothing more than to see his mother without her clothes. As always he hoped, a sight of her that he's never seen before, he imagined her being in her bra and panties when he opened her bedroom door. As always he hoped, catching her by surprise and with her turning to stare at him as if she was a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, he imagined her being topless and/or naked.

He imagined seeing her naked tits, her areolas, and her pink nipples. He'd love to see his mother's tits. He imagined seeing her naked. He imagined seeing her red, bushy pussy and her firm, round ass. He'd love to see her naked. Giving him more to masturbate over, he'd be happy just seeing her in her bra and panty or parading around her bedroom in her sheer, sexy nightgown.

As always he hoped, he imagined her sitting in front of her mirror in her sexy, sheer, low cut nightgown while brushing her beautiful, long, red hair. He imagined walking up to her to stand behind her sitting on her bench at her vanity table. His way of seeing the both sides of her at once, a double delight, whether it was the back of her or the front of her, he enjoyed seeing her reflection in the mirror while he was facing the other side of her. He'd love nothing more than to take the hairbrush from her hand and brush her long, lush, red hair while peering down her nightgown top and hoping to see more than just the tops of her breasts and her cleavage. Imagining that he would, he'd love to see his mother's areolas and her pink nipples.

As always he imagined, he imagined his mother standing by her bed in her sheer, sexy nightgown and, as if lit up on stage, being illuminated by the brightness of her overhead bedroom light. He imagined seeing the impressions of her pink nipples and her dark, red patch of bushy, pubic hair. He imagined seeing his mother's naked body through her nearly see-through nightgown as if she wasn't wearing anything at all. He imagined his mother striking a sexy pose as if she was his favorite movie star and he was a Paparazzi photographer. Only, when he opened her bedroom door, he knew that she'd never deliberately show him any part of her beautiful body. Even with all of his hoping and sexual fantasies over seeing her without her clothes, he knew he'd never see his mother in her bra and panty, topless, naked, or even in her nightgown without her wearing a robe.

He didn't even remember what it was he wanted to show her, just some pictures in an old magazine he found. Life magazine always took the best pictures. Wanting to show her the magazine was just his excuse to be with her in her bedroom. The magazine was his way that he hoped to catch his mother immodestly indisposed, immorally attired, and/or not properly dressed to receive him, her son, as a guest in her bedroom. Just as he wished he could see his mother in her bra and panty, topless, and/or naked, he'd love to see her in her sexy nightgown too.

"Come in," she said.

As soon as he opened her bedroom door, she burst his sexual bubble when he saw her comfortably sitting in bed reading. He remembered feeling disappointed that she was already in bed with the covers covering all that he had hoped to see of her. Sexually excited prematurely, he felt foolish now with Life magazine covering the bulging, incestuous lust that he had for his mother.

"I, um, wanted to show you something in life magazine," he said staring more at his mother's cleavage that showed over the blankets than he looked at her pretty face.

With his penis taking a life of its own, hardening itself as if choosing his mother for sex, his semi-erect cock suddenly tented his pajama bottoms. Suddenly embarrassed by her seeing just how much he sexually wanted her, he didn't know how he'd show her what he wanted her to see in the magazine without her seeing his swelling erection. He remembered being pleasantly surprised and sexually excited when she invited him in her bed.

"Climb in bed with me. We can keep one another warm while you show me the magazine," she said.

With the heat turned down at night and with it being so cold in her room, she opened the covers for him to climb under them. He couldn't believe his mother invited him to get under the covers with her. With all of the sexual fantasies he's had of seeing her in her bra and panty, topless, naked, and/or in her sheer, sexy nightgown, being in bed with his mother was something he never expected to experience.

Being in bed with his mother was nearly as good as seeing her in her bra and panties, topless, and/or naked. Maybe he'd accidentally on purpose feel and touch some part of his mother's body that he's forbidden to feel and touch. Adding to his lustful desire of wanting to have sex with his mother, when she opened her blanket, he saw more of his mother than he's ever seen of her before. Seeing what he always imagined seeing of his mother, he saw what no son should ever see of his mother and what no mother should ever show her son of herself.

With her nightgown raised nearly to her waist, past the tops of her shapely thighs, he saw the side of his mother's naked thigh all the way up to her hip. Then, not believing all that he was seeing, he saw a quick flash of her red, bushy pussy. He saw his mother's cunt. He couldn't believe he saw his mother's cunt. Oh, my God, he'll be masturbating over that one quick flash of his mother's red, bushy pussy for the rest of his horny life.

Something he never imagined happening when imagining her in her bra and panty, topless, and/or naked, he couldn't believe he was in bed with his mother. Then, once he was in her bed with her, she cuddled him in the way she used to do when she read to him in bed so many years ago. Enjoying the unexpected physical attention, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and hugged him. Forget about her keeping him warm, she made him hot. With the heat of her body warming more than just his body but his sexual passion, he didn't even need a blanket to keep warm. 

Holding him, hugging him, and fawning all over him, as if he was her long lost boyfriend returning home from the military after being stationed overseas, she kissed him on the forehead and on the cheek before she did something totally unexpected but welcomed. She kissed him on the mouth. His mother, the love of his life, kissed him on the mouth. He couldn't believe his mother kissed him on the mouth. Other than a peck goodnight, a kiss beneath the mistletoe at Christmas, and a kiss on his birthday, his mother never kissed him on the mouth. Sexually alive as if she had plugged his penis in an electrical outlet, he shivered with sexual excitement.

Startled into inaction, before he could even wrap his brain around her kissing him on the mouth, she kissed him on the mouth again. Only this time she French kissed him. His mother French kissed him. He couldn't believe his mother French kissed him. His mother put her soft, loving hand behind his head, moved her fingers through his chestnut brown hair, parted his lips with her tongue, and stuck her tongue in his mouth. 

If it wasn't surprising enough that she kissed him on the mouth, he was flabbergasted when she not only kissed him again but French kissed him. Shocked and not knowing what to do, his sexual opportunity with his mother missed, he didn't have the sexual experience or even the presence of mind to return her kiss. With him a virgin, the first time kissing a woman, French kissing a woman, was when he kissed his senior prom date, Grace. Even when thinking about that night now so long ago, he still can't believe his mother French kissed him. To this day, perhaps because it was his mother's French kiss but that kiss was the best kiss he's ever had in his life.

* * * * *

She was lonely after his father left her for another woman and, in the way that his wife, Ruth, was drinking now, only not nearly as much, his mother started drinking then. Her loneliness was the obvious reason why she slipped him her tongue, no doubt. Maybe she was a little drunk when she kissed him but, not remembering the taste of alcohol on her breath and with the memory of her giving him sex so very long ago, he didn't remember. With her French kiss blanking his mind, he was too overwhelmed and sexually aroused by her kiss to remember anything else in that moment.

Then, kissing and kissing him, she kissed him as if she was kissing his father. Perhaps because he looked so much like his father when he was his age, they made out the same way that he made out with Grace in the backseat of his car after taking her to the senior prom. Afraid to even touch her and feel her in the way that he felt Grace's tits and reached around her to feel her ass through her prom gown and panties, he didn't dare touch his mother's body through her nightgown.

With him trying to justify his incestuous behavior, but only kidding himself, he truly believed that their kisses, even their French kisses were nothing more than loving kisses between a son and his mother. Yet, more sexually inflamed, thinking back on it now, obviously her kisses were much more than that. Her kisses were filled with as much sexual desire as his kisses were filled with incestuous lust for his mother.

As if she was the man and he was the woman, she was hot and was breathing heavily. Surprised that she was seemingly as sexually aroused as he was, he innocently thought that only men became sexually hot and bothered. Perhaps because she was his mother and with him thinking of her as a sainted virgin and his birth an immaculate conception, never did he ever think that his mother was human sexually. Never did he ever think his mother would want sex as much as he wanted sex, especially with him and in the way that he wanted to have sex with her. As if she had a contagious fever, she was sexually excited and her sexual excitement carried over to him. Unable to remove his eyes from them, he remembered seeing the impressions of his mother's huge nipples through her nightgown.

As soon as he saw the impressions of his mother's erect nipples, he knew she was sexually aroused. As soon as he saw the impressions of his mother's erect nipples, he wanted to finger them through her nightgown before reaching his horny hand inside to feel her breasts and fondle her breasts. In the way that he had felt and sucked Grace's tits on prom night, as soon as he saw the impressions of his mother's erect nipples, he wanted to suck them. As soon as his mother started kissing him more passionately, he had an erection. Then, with him instinctively rubbing and involuntarily humping his hard, bulging cock up against her soft, naked thigh, he couldn't believe it when his mother reached her hand down to feel his prick through his pajama bottoms and underwear.

'Oh, my God!'

His sexual fantasy come true, his mother was fondling his penis through his pajamas and underwear. He couldn't believe his mother was fondling his cock through his pajamas and underwear. In the way he so wanted to feel his mother's tits through her nightgown, but with him so afraid to inappropriately, sexually touch her, she was feeling his erect cock through his clothes. Then, sexually shocking him, she slid her hand down into his white, cotton briefs and wrapped her motherly fingers around his cock.

Because he was in bed with his MILF of a mother, the woman of his sexual fantasies, his cock was larger and harder than he ever remembered. None of his masturbation fantasies when using his father's porn stash made his cock as big, stiff, and as red with blood as it was now. Suddenly proud of his hard prick, he wondered whether his cock was bigger than his father's cock. He wondered whether his penis was harder, thicker, more veined, and more muscled than what his mother was used to when having sex with his father. Now knowing that his prick felt like in his mother's hand, he wondered what his cock would feel like in his mother's mouth while she stroked him and sucked him. Imagining watching her sucking him and sucking him, he'd love nothing more than to show his love for his mother by ejaculating a warm, oozy load of his virginal cum in his mother's mouth while watching her swallow.

Forget about crossing the incestuous line, when she took his cock in her hot hand, she leapt over the incestuous line. If she was wearing panties, which she wasn't, she did something he'd never do to her that she just did to him. He'd never slide his hand down in her white panties and finger her pussy in the way she just slid her hand down his underwear to feel his cock. Unable to sexually grope and feel his mother in the way she groped and felt him, with him having mixed feelings and confused emotions about having an incestuous relationship with his mother, he felt as embarrassed as he felt sexually excited.

'Oh, my God,' he thought. 'This can't be happening. I don't believe this. I must be dreaming.'

Yet, he wasn't dreaming and this incestuous affair was really happening. Something he only sexually fantasized happening, his mother was holding his erect prick in her soft hand. He couldn't believe his mother was holding his erect prick in her warm hand. Whenever he masturbated himself, he always imagined what it would feel like for his mother to hold his stiff prick in her hand and now he knew. It felt wonderful. Her hand felt amazing.




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #02



Seemingly taking her time enjoying the sensation of holding his penis in her hand, she fondled the head of his hard prick with her fingertips. Then, she reached her hand down to cup his balls. The comforting sensation of his mother cupping his testicles in the palm of her hand was something that he never could have imagined. If holding his cock and cupping his testicles wasn't enough, she slowly started stroking him to a bigger and harder erection. He didn't think he could get any harder than he already was without prematurely ejaculating but he did get harder without prematurely ejaculating.

"Touch me. Feel me," she said so softly and so lovingly in her sweet, sensuous voice. "I need to feel your hands on me."

He couldn't believe she asked him to touch her and feel her. Had she not asked him to touch her and feel her, he didn't think that he would have. Had he not touched and felt her, with one sexual thing leading to another incestuous thing, their brief immoral affair may have abruptly ended right there. Yet, taking her permission to touch her in hand, this was the sexual fantasy that he's been lusting to experience. A once in a lifetime opportunity to have sex with his mother, this may never happen again. With her last day on Earth tomorrow, if only he knew how right he was in thinking that having sex with his mother was his once in a lifetime opportunity that may never happen again.

He remembered reaching out to feel his mother's breasts through her nightgown while fingering her nipples. As soon as he touched her breasts, felt her breasts, fondled her breasts, and fingered her nipples, not allowing him to stop there, she took his hand and stuffed it between her opened legs. As shocking as it was for her to French kiss him, as sexually exciting as it was for him to feel his cock in her hand, it was sexually exciting to feel her breasts while fingering her nipples. Yet, even more sexually exciting than her feeling his cock and him feeling her tits, feeling her pussy was even more sexually shocking. As he saw before when she opened the covers for him, she wasn't wearing panties and he could feel her bushy, red pussy tickling his hand. Then, taking his finger in her hand, she directed his finger to her pussy and pushed his index finger inside of her.

He had seen men sticking their fingers inside of pussies in the dirty pictures his father had. One finger, two fingers, and even three fingers, seeing dirty pictures of men fingering a woman's cunt sexually excited him. He's seen dirty pictures of men sticking their whole hands deep in the pussies of women, all the way up to their palms sometimes. He's even seen photos of their hands wet, slick, and sticky with women's vagina juices. When he saw those photos, he had wondered what it would feel like to do that with his mother. Would her vagina secretions be warm, wet, slippery, and sticky or all of that, all at once?

While feeling the tickle of her pubic hair on his hand, never had he ever thought he'd feel the inside of his mother's vagina. He could smell her now. It wasn't a bad smell or an unpleasant odor. It was a musky scent of her sexual arousal that sexually aroused him too with him knowing that she was just as wet as he was hard. Her wetness leaked from his finger down into the palm of his hand as he rubbed her clit and fingered her vagina.

His mother's pussy was the first pussy he's ever felt and fingered. She was wet. She was so slippery and slimy wet that his finger just slid inside of his mother. Something he never even imagined when masturbating himself with the thoughts of having sex with his mother, he couldn't believe his finger was inside of his mother.

Fingering a woman's pussy was something he never experienced before. He remembered her sticky wetness surprising him. Foolishly, he thought she peed herself. Laughing over that then, he knows differently now. Obviously, with her being as wet as he was hard, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Not knowing what he was doing, with him never having even seen or touched a woman's pussy before, he instinctively wiggled his finger while probing his mother deeper. She gasped when he inserted his finger all the way inside of her.

"Take them off. I want to see you," she said breathlessly while pulling at his pajama bottoms. "Take them off. I want to touch you," she said with sexual excitement in a syrupy, albeit husky, sexy voice that he never heard her use before. 

With her having as much sexually passion in her eyes as he had in his eyes, he looked at her as if he was looking at and seeing himself.

"Mom," he said the only thing that he could say.

She gave him another deep, wet kiss. Never has he been kissed like that before or since. She kissed him with such passion. She kissed him with such love. Not knowing it at the time but just thrilled that she was kissing him, French kissing him, she ruined him for other women. Even then, especially when looking back at the love affair that he had with his mother, it should have been obvious to him that he'd never love another woman in the way that he loved his mother.

"I want to stroke you. I want to suck you. I want to make love to you. I want to fuck you," she said whispering what she wanted and needed from him in his ear.

Just as he couldn't believe what his mother was saying, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. As he removed his pajamas, his underwear, and stripped naked, she removed her nightgown and stripped naked too. Just as he couldn't believe he was seeing his mother's naked breasts for the first time, he couldn't believe he was in bed naked with his naked mother.

An unbelievable sight to behold, with him seeing his first naked woman who wasn't a glossy photo in a men's magazine or a photo from his father's porn stash, she kicked the covers down with her feet to show him the rest of her naked body. A memory he'll have for the rest of his life, he'll never forget seeing his mother naked. Naked, he couldn't believe his mother was naked. Naked, he couldn't believe he was in bed naked with his naked mother.

Unashamed and unembarrassed, as if she was proud to show him her naked body, she sat up in bed to stare over at his naked body. In the way he was staring at his mother's naked breasts and bushy, red pussy, she was staring at his erection while continuing to fondle his stiff prick. With him a masturbation machine back then, masturbating over the sexual fantasy of seeing his mother naked and having sex with her naked body had always been his sexual fantasy but was now his sexual reality.

"Mom, you're so beautiful," he said reaching out his horny hand to feel and fondle her breasts while fingering her pink, erect nipples.

She wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled him to her for him to suck her nipples. He was sucking his mother's nipples. He couldn't believe he was sucking his mother's tits. With the fingers of his left hand still fingering her pussy, he fingered her nipple with his right hand while sucking her other nipple. Surprising him yet again, she pushed down on his shoulder. In the way he so wanted his mother to suck him, his mother wanted him to lick her.

Not having a clue what he was doing, but going with the flow of his incestuous lust, he moved between his mother's shapely thighs. As soon as he reached out his finger to finger her and lashed out his tongue to lick her, she put a hand behind his head and mashed his face in her wet pussy. Licking and licking her while fingering her, when he couldn't breathe, he moved his head up to get a breath of air and to wipe his face of her vaginal secretions with his hand. With this being his first pussy that he ever licked, he didn't think that he did too badly of a job. Granted he didn't give his mother an orgasm with his mouth and fingers, but maybe he would one day.

As soon as he moved his mouth away from her pussy, she reached down for him and they kissed. Kissing and kissing him, she continued stroking his cock before leaning down to take his stiff prick in her mouth. His mother was sucking him. He couldn't believe his mother was sucking him. Having never had a blowjob before, it was somehow appropriate that his mother should give him his first blowjob. Her mouth was so warm and so wet. Just as the sensation of his mother's tongue in his mouth is something he'll never forget, the sensation of his cock in his mother's mouth is something he'll never forget either.

Then, when he was hard enough, she mounted him. She reached her hand down between her legs, took hold of his engorged prick, and positioned his cock by her pussy. A virgin before having sex with his mother, as if his prick knew the way there and was coming home again, in the way of a joey in a kangaroo's pouch, his hard cock slid right inside of her. He couldn't believe his mother was making love to him. He couldn't believe he was making love to his mother.

Taking him all the way inside of her, filling her pussy with his cock, she leaned back as if she was doing acrobatic riding tricks on a horse. He remembered her pussy being so warm, so wet, and so soft. Never has he ever felt as sexually good and as lovingly comforted as he did when making love to his mother. Then, she started slowly and lovingly humping him while kissing and kissing him, French kissing him. She gently nudged him to tell him that she wanted him to mount her and he did. Now with his humps getting harder and faster and with her returning his humps, he was fucking his mother. If making love to his mother wasn't enough, he couldn't believe he was fucking his mother.

"Don't cum inside of me, Jay," she whispered in his ear. "I can still get pregnant. Control yourself from cumming. Okay? After you give me an orgasm, I'll suck you. You may cum in Mommy's mouth and I'll swallow your cum? Okay?"

Unable to even answer her, Jay shook his head in the affirmative. Not only was he making love to his mother but also he was about to fuck his mother. Then, after fucking her and giving her an orgasm, she promised to not only blow him, allow him to cum in her mouth, but also swallow him. His sexual fantasy come true, suddenly he felt like a man instead of an 18-year-old boy.

"Oh, my God, Mom. I love you," he said kissing her.

Then, he broke off his kiss to hump her. Humping her harder and humping her faster in only the way that an energetic 18-year-old, virgin can have sex with a woman, Jay fucked his mother. With most men prematurely ejaculating the first time they've had sex, Jay was skilled at delaying his orgasm from his endless masturbation sessions. As if he was a pile driver on overdrive, he literally pounded his mother's pussy. As soon as his mother wrapped her legs around his back, he knew that he was sexually exciting his mother as much as she was sexually exciting him. He felt her tightened her legs and watched her arch her back while closing her eyes.

"Jay! Jay! Mommy's cumming," she said popping open her eyes to look at him. "I'm going to cum. I can't believe I'm going to cum. Fuck me, Jay. Fuck me. Only, please, dear God, don't cum inside of me," she said. "Okay?"

Not wanting to disappoint her, wanting to give his mother in orgasm in the way that he couldn't wait for her to give him an orgasm with her mouth, Jay humped his mother harder and fucked her faster.

"Okay Mom. I won't cum inside of you. I promise," he said while hoping that he could keep his promise. "Don't worry," he said giving her the assurance that she obviously needed to relax and for her to have her orgasm. "I won't cum."

She continued humping him as hard as he was humping her. Determined to give his mother an orgasm but somehow controlling himself from cumming inside of her by thinking of the New York Yankees winning the pennant, he didn't cum in his mother. Besides, imagining her taking him in her mouth again while stroking him, he wanted her to blow him. With him never having had a blowjob before, with him already making love to his mother, and now fucking his mother, he'd much rather cum in his mother's mouth than to cum in her pussy.

As soon as his mother collapse, Jay moved beside her. They were both out of breath and sweating. His mother held him and hugged him while basking in the afterglow of having sex. Never had he felt as close to his mother as he did in that moment. With her making him her man, he felt more like her husband, her boyfriend, and/or her lover than he did her son. 

"I love you, Jay," she said.

Then, she did what no mother should ever do with her son. She slide her body down half the length of him to take his still erect, throbbing penis in her mouth. His mother was blowing him. He couldn't believe his mother was blowing him. What an unbelievable day. If it wasn't enough that he saw his mother naked, she saw him naked, she felt his cock and he felt her tits and fingered and licked her pussy, he made love to his mother before fucking his mother. Now, she was blowing him. His mother was sucking his cock.

As soon as he realized his mother was blowing him, he put a loving hand to the back of her head. Gently, he humped her mouth but not nearly as hard as he humped her pussy. She stroked him harder and faster while sucking him deeper. Then, as if he was a locomotive exploding a plume of white smoke in a darkened tunnel, he ejaculated a huge load of cum in his mother's mouth. Without choking or gagging, she took all that he gave her and swallowed. He couldn't believe his mother made love to him, fucked him, and blew him.

* * * * *

A different time back then, a time before computers, the internet, cell phones, even space travel, it was a sweet time of innocence. It was a time when incest was whispered about in bedroom, backrooms, and dark alleys. Even though many sons and daughters were victims of incest and survivors of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, few spoke publically about it. It was a dirty business what they were doing and if anyone knew he had sex with his mother and his mother had sex with him, they'd be outcasts. No longer able to participate in any community activities, go to church, or even go to school, they'd have to leave their beloved, little town.

No doubt, if the authorities found out that they had been incestuously intimate, they could be arrested. He'd lose all of his friends. She'd be fired from her job. She'd have to sell her house. They'd have to move far away where no one knew them. With him always blaming himself and feeling guilty that he was responsible for killing his mother, what comes around goes around, Ruth was seemingly his high price to pay for his mother's death.

Somehow, even though he hated his wife, Ruth, in the way he understood his mother's loneliness, he understood his wife's drunkenness. The same, sad story, just as he discovered years later that his mother had been sexually abused by her father, Ruth had been sexually abused by her brothers. Yet with Ruth never changing and always remaining the same, she was so easy to read. He could see right through her lies. He knew what she'd do and what decision she'd make in all circumstances of life. Perhaps one of the reasons why he still stayed married to her, he liked that she was so predictable. He felt safe with her and smugly superior to her while knowing that she wasn't nearly as smart as he was.

With her sexually doing things to other men that she'd never sexually do with him, he thought he'd be used to her cheating on him by now but he wasn't. It still hurt whenever he heard she was having sex with one of his friends or with one of the neighbors. He didn't mind her having sex with strangers as much because he didn't know them and he couldn't visualize them. The only one he hated her having sex with was that Chris kid. He was so young and good looking. There was just no way that he could compete with him. With her seemingly having sex with every man he knows and men he doesn't even know, is there no end to her need to fuck, suck, and drink martinis? 

Now her latest thing has seemingly always been her favorite thing. Unbeknownst to him and having recently discovered her sexual peccadillo, she enjoyed having sex with twenty-something-year-old men, men who are nearly half her age. Seemingly Chris wasn't the only young man that she fucked and sucked. His wife is a drunk, a whore, a sexual predator, and a cougar. Just as it seemed foolish to continue their marriage, oxymoronic in its definition of what a wife is and/or should be, it seemed foolish to call a woman like her his wife.

Now, in hindsight, he remembered the first time he found out that she was unfaithful. Thinking that it was the first time, it wasn't. She's been cheating on him with a multitude of men for years, before they were even married. She's never been faithful to him. She's been screwing around on him before they even received their wedding pictures back from the photographer. Sneaking out on the pretense of going to the ladies room, he found out years later, she even had sex with his best man during their wedding reception in the backseat of the limo.

Why did he marry her? He never should have married her. Yet, with both of them addicted to sex, he was as sexually twisted as she was. Just as he has a long list of sexual transgressions, she has a long list of sexual transgressions too. He couldn't wait to go to Japan to have sex with some young, sexy, Asian women. Something his wife won't do to him but will willingly do to everyone and anyone else, he couldn't wait to hump their heads, fuck their faces, and cum in their mouths while watching them swallowing his cum.

To be continued...

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Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #03



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I dedicate this story to Walter from Southern California.

*

Ruth and Christopher get comfortable while Jay is away on business in Japan.

"Get me another drink while you're up Christopher," said Ruth holding up her empty glass in one hand and her cigarette in the other. Relegated to being her personal bartender, she gave her boy toy a sexy look. "Make it extra dry this time with two olives."

As if she was his mother instead of his lover, Chris obediently got up from the couch to make Ruth another drink. She didn't even have to ask him if he was sexually attracted to his mother, just from his sexual attraction to her, she knew that he was already. One of the ways she attracts young men for sex is by allowing them to role play in pretending she's their mother. She doesn't care what their sexual fantasies are as long as they keep her pickled in alcohol and give her an orgasm.

"One dry martini with two olives coming right up," said Chris.

With her husband gone on a business trip to Japan for ten days, Ruth relaxed back in the soft comfort of the sofa as if she was on vacation, albeit in her own home and a man who wasn't her husband. Trying to get all of her fucking, sucking, and drinking in before Ray arrived home, her husband was scheduled to return home tomorrow. Picking them all up at the mall, it's been nine days of inviting different men in her home to have sex with her, as long as they keep her liquored up with booze.

"We have the whole day and the entire house to ourselves," said Ruth raising her arms to stretch her freedom while yawning. "My husband won't be home until tomorrow and my daughter is gone for the entire weekend." 

Having just picked up the young man at the mall, as if she was playing the part of Anne Bancroft as Mrs. Robinson in The Graduate, Ruth sat on the couch with her skirt hiked up beyond mid-thigh. With her knees spread and her light blue, bikini panties exposed and in clear view to her soon-to-be young lover's, horny eyes, obviously she was teasing him. Obviously, hoping for wild, unadulterated, extramarital sex, she was seducing him. With him obviously sexually interested, especially in the way that he was staring at her flashing him her panties, she was sexually aroused by his reaction to her showing him her panties.

Obviously, with her advertising what sexual treasure lay between her legs, she wanted more than just a dry martini with two olives. She wanted a big, hard cock with two balls too. Obviously, in the way that he kissed her and she returned his kiss with her kiss, she wanted more than just a dry hump and a desperate grope of her breasts. In the way that McDonalds' employees are trained to ask if a customer wants fries with their burger, obviously, Ruth wanted a cock with her drink too.

Old enough to be his mother and with her daughter nearly the same age as Chris, she should be ashamed of herself but she wasn't. Married to a hardworking man who continued to support her in the lifestyle that she had become accustomed to living, she should feel guilty for cheating on him, but she didn't. If anything, she was proud that she could still sexually attract young men for sex. Chris was just another young man in her long procession of young lovers, actually lovers of all ages. Only, unlike so many of the others who she fucked and sucked before asking them to leave and to never return, there was something about him that she liked. He was a keeper.

With his Boy Scout, good looks, looking much younger than his 25-year-old age and seemingly looking so innocent but not innocent enough to be fooling around with a married woman, he was definitely very handsome. Depending on how things went, if he gives her an orgasm with his mouth, fingers, and cock, instead of kicking him to the curb as she does with most of her young men, she may just keep him around for a little longer. As long as he proves himself to be good in bed, to be submissive to her without complaint, and to continue plying her with alcohol, he has the potential to become one of her regular, young lovers.

As much as Ruth was fascinated with Christopher, with him never taking his eyes off of her, he was obviously sexually attracted to her too. Perhaps Ruth looked at him as if he was the son she never had. Perhaps Chris looked at her as she was the mother he always wanted to fuck and her to suck him. Whatever their mutual, sexual attraction was, with her preferring young men in their twenties and with him obviously preferring women in their forties, seemingly they were sexually made for one another.

While nursing her third martini, Ruth allowed this young man, who she had just picked up at the mall and invited home to have a few drinks, to make out with her while feeling her through her clothes. As if she was reliving what it was like with her husband in the backseat of his car before they were married more than two and a half decades ago, she used Chris's sexual attraction to her and his horniness to buy her booze. Willing to give him a good, sexual time in the privacy of her home, she used Chris to show her a good, sexual time too. Seemingly sex was the common thread but just as Chris used her for sex, she used Chris not only for sex but also for alcohol. Actually, not sure how much Chris thought he was using her, with her willing to have sex with anyone for a fifth of gin and a bottle of vermouth, she was the one using him.

Without a doubt, whatever Chris perceived as being his professed agenda, whether he was sexually attracted to her as his surrogate mother or not, there was no denying that he used her for sex. It was definitely cheaper for him to buy Ruth a bottle of gin and fifth of vermouth than it was to take a date his own age out to dinner and to a movie. With Ruth a sure sexual thing, he'd have a much easier time of scoring with her than he'd have in receiving little more than a goodnight's kiss from his date. He'd have a much better chance at getting fucked and sucked with Ruth than in trying to make it to second base in hoping to feel his date's breasts at her front door while kissing her goodnight.

With one no better than the other, exchanging booze for sex was a win/win plan for both Ruth and for Christopher. The only fly in the ointment was that Ruth was married. Ruth had a loving, sucker of a husband who paid her to sit home while she drank and had sex with younger men. Only a wily whore of a woman knows how to use sex to have her husband subsidize her sexual affairs.

* * * * *

Kissing and kissing him, French kissing him, with her arms around his neck, she allowed him access to feel her breasts through her blouse and to finger her emerging nipples through her bra. A perfect size, her breasts were between a large B cup and a small C cup. Kissing and kissing him, with her legs already spread open wide enough, she allowed him to slowly slide his hand up her long legs and in between her shapely thighs to feel her panty clad pussy. Going where no faithful wife should ever go with any man, especially with a young man she had just met, picked up, and invited home from the mall, she allowed him to remove her clothes.

If only she sexually treated her husband in the same sexual way that she was sexually seducing Christopher, they wouldn't be having marital problems. If only she gave her husband all that he sexually wanted, he wouldn't have the need to sexually cheat on her. Only, she wasn't sexually attracted to her husband and generally men her age. She was more sexually attracted to younger men, men young enough to be her son.

Unbuttoning one slow, nervous button at a time while kissing her, as if waiting for her to stop him, he removed her blouse before unbuttoning, unzipping, and removing her short skirt. If only he knew she sexually wanted him as much as he sexually wanted her, perhaps he would have been more confident, more aggressive, and less submissive with her. Yet, with her the confident aggressor, she preferred submissive, and sexually inexperienced, young men to aggressive and sexually experienced older men, ergo her preference for much younger men than for men her age or older.

With Ruth now dressed in just her blue, bikini panty and her blue, low cut bra, she used her body, her hands, and her mouth to further tease, entice, and seduce her young lover. Not wasting any more time with foreplay, with the both of them already sexually aroused enough, he reached in front of her to unhook and remove her front snapping bra. Proud of her tits, she looked down at what he could see of her and with her sitting there topless, he could see plenty. 

With her breasts, her areolas, and her erect nipples exposed to the horny eyes of a man who she had just met and who wasn't her husband, she showed no sign of modesty, shame, embarrassment, and/or resistance to him stripping her topless. In the way she used to do with her husband, Jay, more than twenty-five years ago, while still kissing him, her arms were around Chris's neck to give him complete access to her naked breasts. Her nipples were erect with sexual excitement by the thoughts of him fingering them and hard with the sexual anticipation of him sucking them. A telling sign to her wanting and needing to have sexual affairs, oddly enough, her nipples weren't sore now in the way her nipples were always sore whenever Jay wanted to touch them, finger them, and suck them.

As soon as Chris removed her bra straps from her sexy shoulders, one bra strap at a time, and then removed her bra cups from her breasts, one breast at a time, he felt her naked boobs. Obviously sexually excited, he fondled her tits as if he had never seen naked breasts before. He fingered her naked nipples and sucked her tits while she fondled the head of his hardening cock through his jeans. Something that Jay loved doing with his wife, feeling her breasts and sucking her nipples, once they were married, she denied him the sexual pleasure of her breasts but welcomed Chris's sexual touch. With him thinking her a cold bitch all this time, if only Jay knew how much Ruth loved having her breasts felt and her nipples fingered and sucked, wouldn't he be surprised.

Then, as if she was his wife and he was her husband, Chris slid his hand all the way up her thigh to sexual Nirvana. If Chris was married to her instead of Jay, one has to wonder if she'd sexually mistreat him in the way that she sexually mistreats her husband. If she was married to a young man instead of a man her age, one has to wonder if she'd have a sexual thing for older men in the way she now has a sexual thing for younger men.

When he cupped her pussy mound in the palm of his hand through her panty, he ran a slow but firm finger along her clit and pussy slit before sticking his hand down the front of her panty. As if he was holding a pet hamster, he fingered her warm, wet, furry, brown pussy, while she unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped his fly, and took hold of his erection through his underwear. Then, as if he was her husband and she was his wife, she reached her hand inside of his briefs and took hold of his engorged, naked prick with her fingers while French kissing him. With him rubbing her clit and fingering her pussy through her panties with one hand and feeling her tits and fingering her nipples with his other hand, she fondled the head of his cock with her fingertips. 

She removed his hard prick from his underwear to briefly stroke his cock to a harder erection. With Ruth much more sexually experienced than her young lover, a gross understatement, he didn't need to give her any direction by putting a gentle hand to the back of her head. Instead, as soon as she stood, removed her panties, and sat back down on the couch with her knees spread wide apart, she put a forceful hand to the back of his head. As if she was the man and he was the woman, instead of her sucking him, obviously she wanted him to lick her.

Reluctant at first to sexually satisfy her orally, pussy for cock, seemingly Chris inherently knew for him to get what he wanted, he'd have to give her what she wanted first. He'd have to lick and finger fuck her pussy while rubbing her clit before she'd fuck and suck his cock. He moved from the couch to the rug and moved between her legs while on his knees.

As if he was a plumber fixing a leaking pipe by putting his head beneath the sink, he moved his head between her thighs. As if he was on his Honeymoon albeit with another man's wife, he lowered his head down to her naked vagina. As soon as his lips touched her bushy, brown pussy and his tongue replaced his finger inside of her, she grabbed him by his ears and mashed his face in her wet cunt. Pushing him forward harder to impale her pussy deeper with his tongue, she allowed him a brief reprieve to come up for air before she forced his head down again to finish eating her.

"That's right Chris. Lick my pussy. Lick me. Eat me. Make me your bitch," she said when he was actually her bitch. "Make me cum. I need to cum. I want to cum in your mouth," she said as Chris licked her harder and faster while licking her deeper. 

Licking and licking her, he licked her faster, and licked her harder, while rubbing her clit and fingering her pussy deeper. Just when he had her moaning and sexually moving her naked body, he abruptly stopped. As if he was a diver diving for crabs, after parting her clam with his tongue and searching her pussy for her bean with his finger as if looking for a pearl, he briefly came up for air again.

"Oh, my God, I'm getting lockjaw," he said opening and closing his mouth while tilting his head back and forth.

Accepting no excuses for him not eating her and for him not giving her sexual satisfaction, namely an orgasm, she gave him a hard stare not unlike the hard stares that Jay gave her when she denied him sex. Unlike Jay accepting her excuses for not giving him sex, after all the trouble she went through to get him home, there was no way that Chris wasn't going to sexually satisfy her with his fingers and his mouth. With her sharing her naked, married body with unattached Chris, giving her an orgasm was part of the sexual deal. Seemingly what she refused to accept from her husband, even though he was somewhat of a self-professed, champion pussy eater, who loved going down on her and eating her cunt, she readily shared with a stranger. A man who gave her nothing but a couple of bottles of booze, she denied her husband the sexual satisfaction of her wifely duties, when he monetarily provided everything she could possibly need and/or want.

"Lick me harder. Lick me faster. Use two fingers. Use three fingers. Shove your whole frigging hand inside of my cunt. Just get me the fuck off," she said hoping to entice him to continue eating her.

Instinctively knowing that he wanted to be dominated, she slapped his face before pulling him closer with a firm hand behind his head. 

"Okay, okay," he said.

Finally he moved his head in between her thighs again and fingered her before licking her. Then, she said the magic words that changed his halfhearted disinterest in eating her pussy to sexually excited interest in wanting to continue to eat her.

"Lick me as if I'm your mother. Imagine my cunt is your mother's cunt," she said. She reached down to open her pussy wider and to show him more glistening pink. "Eat Mommy. Eat your mother's cunt."

Suddenly, as if he was supercharged, he licked and licked her. Licking and licking her, he licked her as if he was licking his mother's cunt. Rubbing her clit while fingering her pussy, he nearly had her on the verge of cumming when he abruptly stopped again. As if he was a virgin when obviously, he wasn't, with him perhaps looking for a compliment, he lifted his head up for air again and to state the obvious.

"How am I doing? Am I doing it right?"

Obviously he enjoyed pretending that he's never eaten a woman before.

"How are you doing? Are you doing it right? What's to do wrong?" She laughed. "You're doing fine. Now no talking and more licking," she said forcing his head down again with a hard pull of his hair while rubbing her wet cunt all over his face. "I'm almost ready to cum."

He reached his hands up to feel her breasts, fondle her tits, and finger her nipples while continuing to eat her. With Chris rubbing her clit harder, fingering her pussy deeper, and licking her faster, it didn't take Ruth much longer to cum.

"Don't worry. I'm going to make you cum, Mom," he said looking up at her as if she was his mother instead of Jay's wife.

As if he was a pussy eating machine, Chris's tongue went on overdrive. Licking her harder, he licked her faster. While reaching up one hand to feel her breasts and finger her nipples, he reached his other hand around behind her, lifted her ass from the couch, and impaled his tongue deeper in her pussy. Then, exchanging his tongue for his finger, he masturbated her.

"Oh, Chris, baby. I'm cumming. Mommy's is cumming. Don't stop. Just don't stop," she said grabbing a whole handful of his hair and pressing his face between her legs again. 

Cumming quietly, as soon as she finished having her orgasm, she reached down for him to come to her. He rubbed her vaginal secretions from his face with his hand before blowing his nose with a tissue from the box on the coffee table. Then, she took him in her arms to hug him and kiss him. Instead of two strangers picking one another up at the mall, they were lovers now. Kissing and kissing him, she reached down to feel his cock while he felt her breasts and fingered her nipples.

With Chris not having to make his sexual desire known in the way that Ruth told Chris in no subtle way by her actions that she wanted to be eaten, she willingly returned the sexual favor. She sexually obliged him by lowering her mouth to his cock in readiness to take his erect prick in her mouth. Stroking him a little faster while looking up at him with her big, brown, beautiful eyes, she took his stiff prick in her mouth and started sucking him while stroking him. If only Jay could see his wife now sucking a man young enough to be her son when she never even sucked him before, wouldn't he be as surprised as he'd be angry.

"Suck it. Suck my cock," he said. "Blow me, Mom."

In the way she put a heavy hand to the back of his head when he was licking and fingering her pussy, he put a gentle hand to the back of her head while she was licking and sucking his cock.

"That's right," she said temporarily removing his cock from her mouth to speak. Pretend I'm your mother sucking you. Pretend I'm your mother blowing you," she said sexually teasing him to make him harder and wilder with sexual passion.

Saying what she needed to say to make him even more sexually aroused and to sexually want her even more, she took him in her mouth again. With her experienced in knowing just what he wanted to see, giving him a real, sexy show, something she never ever did with her husband, she stared up at him with his hard, hairy prick buried deep in her mouth. Then, sexually teasing him, she removed his erect cock from her mouth again to slowly slide it and rub it along her lips while licking it, kissing it, and sucking it. While she kissed and sucked his cock, he reached his horny hands down to fondle her tits and finger her nipples. With her twenty years older than her young lover, as if she truly was his mother and he truly was her son, Ruth sucked Chris's prick.

"Blow me, Mom. Blow me. Suck my cock," said Chris as if he was speaking to his mother instead of talking to Ruth.

Then, as soon as he was hard enough, which wasn't very long, she ejected his cock from her mouth with her tongue for the third time. Taking the hint, Chris stood and stripped himself naked. With having already placed a towel on the couch, she pulled him back down on the sofa where she mounted him, reached down between her legs, and moved his cock to her pussy. When she lowered her torso down to effectively sit on his cock, his engorged cock parted her pussy lips with his hardness. In the way she never fucked her husband, and in the way that Jay wished he could have fucked his wife, she fucked this young stranger as if she was a cowgirl riding a bucking bronc bareback.




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #03



As if he was her lawfully wedded husband and she was his lawfully wedded wife, once he started sliding inside of her, she humped him and he slid deeper. Humping harder and humping him faster, while slowly rotating her hips, she made sweet love to him. Something that she only used to do with Jay before he became her husband, she was now doing with every, available young man who agreed to come home with her from the mall. Then, done with making love, she allowed Chris to roll her over, mount her, and fuck her, really fuck her hard. Fucking her harder and fucking her deeper, it wasn't long before Chris was pounding her pussy in the way of a high revving piston in a machine. 

"Don't cum inside of me," she whispered in his ear. "I can still get pregnant. Instead of cumming inside me, after you give me an orgasm, I'll suck you," she said licking his ear before blowing her hot air in his ear. "As if I'm your mother blowing you, you can cum in my mouth in the way you'd obviously love to cum in your mother's mouth and I'll swallow your cum. Okay?"

She looked at him and smiled.

"Okay," he said breathing heavier with the renewed, anticipated, sexual excitement of receiving a blowjob from Ruth while pretending his mother was sucking him.

He returned her smile with a kiss and she broke off his kiss to tell him what she wanted.

"Now, fuck me," she ordered while grabbing a handful of his naked ass and squeezing. "Fuck me hard. Fuck me as if you're fucking your mother. Make me cum with your cock in the way you made me cum with your mouth and finger and I'll give you the best blowjob of your young life."

Something that Jay had in common with his wife, strangely enough at a time when AIDs captured the attention of the media, neither of them used condoms. At the very least, one would think that Ruth would have learned after she became pregnant when having sex with Jay's best friend, Bob, but fortunately, for all involved, she lost the baby in a miscarriage. Possibly, instead of resting, watching her diet, and taking care of herself, her drinking, smoking, and having sex with a multitude of men had something to do with her losing the baby. Just as well, it would have been a real tragedy to bring another man's baby into this broken marriage.

Something she never did with her husband, but she routinely did with her young lovers, she never took Jay's prick in her mouth. She never sucked her husband in the way she was sucking Chris now and sucked every other man she blew. Even after more than 25 years of marriage, surprisingly with Ruth such a cock sucking whore, Jay never ejaculated in his wife's mouth. Ruth never swallowed Jay's cum in the way she promised to swallow Chris's cum now and swallowed the seed of so very many men before him.

Seemingly enlivened and invigorated with the promise of a blowjob, Chris humped Ruth harder and humped her faster. With Ruth returning his humps and with them matching one another's humps, it wasn't long before they developed a syncopated rhythm. They fucked like teenagers in the backseat of a car on prom night. With this sexual arrangement obviously working for both, he was sexually attracted to older, married women as much as she was sexually attracted to young, single men. It was a bonus when she agreed to role play by pretending that she was his mother. Obviously it sexually excited him even more for him to imagine that he was having sex with his mother instead of having sex with Ruth.

"I'm going to cum," said Ruth. "Don't stop. Fuck me harder. Fuck me faster," she said pulling Chris from the couch to the carpeted floor. "Fuck me. Fuck me."

He fucked her as if he was a prisoner who had been locked away in prison for years without the conjugal visit of a woman. He fucked her as if he was a sailor who had been away at sea for too long without the sexual release of a shore leave. He fucked her as if she was a cheating, married, drunken woman, and she was, and he was a horny, sexually attracted, young man, and he was that too. Seemingly he fucked her as if she was his mother and he was her son and she fucked him as if she was giving her finger to her husband.

Fucking him and fucking him, she fucked him as if she was a horny, sexually frustrated wife and she was. Fucking and fucking him, she fucked him as if she was addicted to having sex with men nearly half her age and she was. She fucked him as if she was addicted to sex as much as she was addicted to alcohol and indeed she was. She fucked him as if he was her son and she was his mother and with old enough and him young enough, they could have been mother and son. 

"Oh, God, Chris. I'm cumming. I'm cumming. I'm fucking cumming," she said wrapping her legs around his back, grabbing his naked ass with both hands, and pushing him even deeper inside of her. "Fuck me. Fuck me harder. Fuck me faster. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me."

He humped her faster and she humped him harder until she stiffened her legs and screamed out her sexual pleasure.

"I love it when my fucking husband travels. Fuck you Jay," she said screaming at the top of her lungs.

If Chris didn't know the name of her husband before, he certainly knew his name now. If Chris didn't know that Ruth hated her husband before, he certainly knew that she hated him now.

They stayed like that with Ruth basking in the afterglow of sex for several long minutes before she reached her hand down to fondle Chris's still hard prick. Then, slowly stroking him while turning her head to kiss him, she made him harder with her fingers and with her hand before making him even harder with her mouth. Slowly, as if she was a sexy snake sliding and slowly slinking her way down to engulf a rat in her mouth, she opened her mouth and took Chris's prick inside.

She continued sucking Chris while stroking him. Something she never did for her husband in all years they were married, Ruth was suddenly not the good girl that she professed to be to Jay when denying him the use of her mouth. Instead with Chris, as she was with any young man that she invited home for sex, she was a bad girl, a very bad girl albeit very good at what she did sexually for men she barely knew. Indeed, not only was she a cheating wife but also she was quite the skilled cocksucker. If only Jay knew how good his wife was at sucking cock, wouldn't he be surprised?

With him humping her mouth and putting a heavy hand behind her head again to fuck her face, it didn't take Chris very long to explode his sexual lust for his mother in Ruth's mouth.

"I love you, Mommy!"

Sucking and sucking him while stroking and stroking him, she didn't stop sucking Chris's prick until she sucked him dry and swallowed every drop of his cum. Once she was done with him, as if he was an empty gin bottle, she discarded him. She moved from the floor to the couch while still naked to make herself comfortable. She grabbed her cigarettes, lit one up, and blew a blue cloud of smoke in the air. With him still on the floor and looking as if he was about to fall asleep, she gave him a gentle nudge in the ribs with her toe.

"Get me another drink Christopher," said Ruth with him morphing from her lover to her waiter. "Extra dry with two olives."

To be continued...

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Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #04



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I dedicate this story to Walter from Southern California.

*

Something that all women say one time or another, "How do you like me now?"

After being unhappily married to his wife for more than 25 long, suffering, and sexually frustrating years, if Jay was to describe Ruth now, he'd say that she was a drunk, a cheating wife, and a cougar with an overactive libido for younger men. With him knowing her well enough to compress a complete description of her, that one, unflattering sentence encapsulated all of her. To simply define her as a drunk, an unfaithful wife, and a cougar not only explained who she was but also explained what his life has been like being married to her and living with her such a selfish, self-centered bitch.

From the time she opens her eyes to the time she falls asleep, with the world revolving around her, everything is about her. With her needing to blame someone, anyone, but herself for her actions, the reason why she drinks is somehow his fault. Convolutedly nonsensical, he'd like to know how she could possibly blame him for having sex with young men when she's the one who rejects him from his marriage bed. Always willing to give her the sexual satisfaction that she needs, she doesn't want him. She'd rather have a prettier man with a harder cock.

When some men wished they were married to a woman who'd readily have sex with other men while they watched, Jay's marriage to Ruth was much different than that. He never asked her to have sex with anyone while he watched. Yet she readily had sex with other men but not while he watched. She had sex behind his back. She was a cheating wife. She was a cocksucker. She was a whore. He was married to a cheating wife, cocksucker of a whore, who not only never sucked his cock but also didn't even want to have sex with him.

Only, more than that, so much more than that, she was a drunk too. With her so addicted to alcohol, she'd have sex with anyone, anytime for a drink, preferably a martini with two olives. She was a sneak and a cheat. She cheated on him whenever he traveled. Not only did she have sex with his friends and his neighbors but she had sex with young men she picked up at the mall.

Certainly, if he were to describe himself back then, he was a scientist, a physical chemist, an artist, a painter, a writer, a hunter, a health nut, an outdoorsman, and a marathon runner. Yet, with him not totally innocent, in the way that Ruth loved younger men, Jay enjoyed not only an abundance of younger women but women his age and older women too. Only, in the way that a painter surveys the landscape and/or his subject before painting his masterpiece, Jay was a connoisseur of women. Selective with whom he bedded, not just any woman would do in the way that any man would do for Ruth as long as he fueled her sexual desire with copious amounts of gin and vermouth.

Early in his marriage, with Ruth not yet a drunk, but on her way to abusing alcohol, he discovered she was a whore. He thought that he was marrying a good woman, a modest woman, a moral woman, and a woman who was happy to be married to him. He thought that he was marrying a somewhat sexually innocent woman. Instead, he married a whore.

Not expecting her to be a virgin, especially with all the making out and fooling around they did in the backseat of his car before marrying her, but he didn't think that his wife was a whore. Yet, now with no ands, ifs, buts, or maybes, she was a whore. Ruth was a whore. His wife was a whore. He was married to a whore. It's one thing for a girlfriend to be a whore, but it's quite another thing for his wife, the mother of their child to be a whore.

Now with her already a whore and on her way to being a drunk, instead of just thinking of her as a whore, she was soon labeled by Jay as a drunken whore. While some men would never want to be married to a whore, some men would be happy to be married to a whore, while other men would only want their wife to be their whore exclusively. Unfortunately and alas, as he always suspected and soon discovered more and more, Ruth was every man's whore but for Jay. The only sexual thing that Jay may get her to do, something that he could do for himself, was to give him a hand job, as long as he didn't try feeling the tits and fingering her nipples. Unexplainable, somehow, her nipples were always sore for him to finger and suck but seemingly they were never sore for anyone else to finger and suck.

It wasn't long before he discovered that his precious, loving wife, who he had just married, sucked and fucked his best man in the backseat of the limo on their wedding day during their reception. He couldn't believe it. He didn't understand. He was hurt. Feeling cheated on, he felt rejected. Too angry to confront either one of them, if he had a gun he would have shot them both dead.

Then years later, during an argument, she confessed that she had sex with most of the men they knew, mostly friends and neighbors. Men he saw all the time and men he thought were his friends, he stopped seeing. Rather keeping to himself, he didn't dare befriend another man to bring home to meet his wife. Instead, whatever new friendships he developed, he kept them from Ruth. 

Whether her cheating on him was his justification or not, or was just a fortunate sexual opportunity that presented itself, something he wasn't tempted to do before, he was especially tempted to do now. Now, even more than just wanting to get even, he needed and wanted to have sex. With him always so sexually frustrated and horny, with his wife not having sex with him but freely having sex with others, that's when he had sex with Marlene.

* * * * *

He was 24-years-old and barely married two years when he met Marlene, a petite, 39-year-old, divorced, Jewish American Princess with three kids. Even though she was a little pudgy, she was plumb in all the right places. She had a curvaceous, Rubenesque look about her as if she was a naked woman in one of Rubin's or Rembrandt's paintings.

In the way she made use of her hands, her mouth, and her pussy, she stretched the definition of MILF to super MILF. With women experiencing their sexual peaks at chronological more mature ages and men reaching their peaks fifteen years earlier, with both of them at their sexual peaks, they were the perfect age for one another. The opposite of Ruth, at least when it came to her sexual treatment of him, and with her more romantically in line with him, she was horny and always ready for sex.

Meanwhile, sexually making her way around the neighborhood with an empty martini glass in hand, he suspected that Ruth was already having sex with their neighbor, his best friend, Bob. It turned out that he's the one who got her pregnant but fortunately for all, she lost the baby. God, she was such a drunken slut, even back then. Yet, now that he had Marlene sexually taking care of him, he didn't much care what his wife was doing with young men when he wasn't home. What Ruth was sexually doing with much younger men, Marlene was doing with him.

With him trying to make a good future for them, he was working long hours in the lab towards earning his PhD in physical chemistry. While he was trying to become the scientist he always dreamt of becoming, she was sucking and fucking men and more becoming the whore that she was determined and destined to be. It wouldn't have hurt him as much that his wife was a bitch of a whore, as long as she sexually took care of him too but she didn't. Rejecting him, making him feel unwanted, and making him feel that there was something wrong with him, she looked at him as if she skived him. She looked at him as if she hated the sight of him when he was the one supporting her, the stupid, ungrateful bitch.

* * * * *

Marlene worked at the college in the library as one of the librarians and with him always in the library when not in the laboratory, they had become friends. They sometimes had coffee together or lunch in the cafeteria together where they talked, laughed, and flirted. On good days when needing to get some air, they walked around the campus together talking while laughing. All so very innocent, they were just co-workers who had become friends.

It was raining hard one day when Jay saw her leaving the front door of the university library with her umbrella and rain hat. Normally she has her car parked in the back lot but on this rainy day she didn't. He remembered she told him that her car was in the shop. With him not putting two and two together to offer her a ride before, when she first told him that she didn't have a car, he offered her a ride now. Being that they were good friend, he looked forward to driving her home while talking about nothing and laughing over everything. Only, with him so naïve, he never imagined giving her a ride home would turn out to be more than just a friendly gesture.

An attractive woman with a very pretty face, she was a short but shapely woman. Something he liked about her and that drew him to her, when she talked to him, her dark, brown, expressive eyes were always locked on his sad and sexually frustrated eyes. She looked at him as if she could read him. She looked at him as if she knew who he was inside. She looked at him as if she could feel his pain and suffering sorrow that started with the death of his mother and continued with the drunken whoring of his wife.

Mesmerizing him with her eyes, as if he was the only man in the world, she made him feel important. She made him feel wanted. She made him feel that he could trust her not to hurt him. She made him want to tell her all of his sexy secrets and all of his sexual problems. Unable to hide anything from her, with her having the perception of a mother and the insight of a lover, she looked at him as if she already knew that he sexually wanted her. A cross between his mother and his wife, even though she didn't look like any one of them, as if he was her adopted son, he couldn't resist her motherly comfort.

The gentleman that he is albeit one with ulterior, sexual motives, he walked her out to the parking lot while holding his umbrella over her head. Then, braving the rain, he held his car door open for her while she took her sweet time getting in his car. A time when the miniskirt was just starting to take hold of women across the country, she was wearing a short skirt. As she climbed in his car, with him too horny to avert his stare, he was hoping to see a quick flash of her panty. He was hoping to see something that he shouldn't see of Marlene to masturbate over later. Had it not been for his wife refusing to do her wifely duty in caring for his sexual needs, he wouldn't have been horny enough to sexually take advantage of his friend by trying to sneak a quick peek between her legs.

Only, instead of just being rewarded with a quick flash of her panty, he saw much more than that. As soon as she sat in the passenger seat, with her legs spread open wide, she took her time closing and shaking out her umbrella and situating her purse and feet on the floor of the car. A sexy, panty flashing show that he'll be masturbating over later, no doubt, he saw all that he wanted and needed to see of her panty clad, pleasure pot. With her turned to him but leaning towards the driver's side with her knees still spread wide open, he saw the inside of her thighs and a prolonged flash of her panty clad pussy.

'Holy shit. Oh, my God!'

With her fifteen years older than him, nearly old enough to be his mother or at least his big sister, he felt like a pervert for staring but, unable to look away, he couldn't help himself from leering. As if it happened yesterday instead of years ago, it's not only amazing how much he saw of her in just a quick flash of her underwear but also how much of her that he remembers seeing. With her skirt raised high enough and her legs spread open long enough, he not only her questioned her motivation but also her morals and her modesty.

'Was she deliberately flashing him?' He didn't know. 'Was she trying to seduce him by enticing him and teasing him?' He didn't know that either.

Her white panties were unable to contain her black, bushy pussy and he saw stray strands of black, pubic hair peeking out the sides of her panty. Having never experienced such a perfect flash of a woman's panty clad pussy before, he couldn't help but wonder if she flashed him deliberately or inadvertently. Even though he suspected that her flashing him her panty was accidental, adding to the sexual fantasy that was already developing in his head, he enjoyed thinking that she flashed him on purpose. Thinking of her before as just a co-worker who was a divorced mother of three, now he thought of her as his kind of woman, a sexy, sexual woman who was ready and willing to play. As soon as he sat in the driver's seat of his old Pontiac, with Marlene's skirt still raised past her mid-thigh and just a few inches lower than the pleasure pussy palace of nirvana, he was already horny.

Having worked with her for a while, never had he seen so much of her legs. A big deal back then, prior to the fashion trend of the miniskirt, never had he seen the inside of her thighs. Even when he walked behind her while she climbed the stairs ahead of him, he never had a peek of her panty in the way he saw her prolonged peek of her panty clad pussy that night. Now with him unable to control his sexual thoughts for her, he imagined sticking his hand in between her legs while kissing her. Only, he didn't dare ruin the fun and the friendly, co-worker relationship they had. Giving him plenty of fodder to masturbate over later, it was enough that he saw her panty and a sneak peek of her hairy, black pussy. Thinking of that experience now, so long ago, while driving her home, he recalled that she needed to use the ladies room. 

"Sorry but I need to pee. Ever since I had children, I'm not able to hold my water and with you making me laugh, I don't want to pee myself," she said with a laugh while giving him a sexy look.

Jay filled up the tank while Marlene was in the ladies room. He was cleaning his windshield with the gas station squeegee when she returned and she gave him another slow show between her legs that he couldn't believe. This time, with her skirt nearly raised to her crotch when getting back in the car, she gave him a show of her black bushy pussy.

'Oh, my God! No way! Fuck me! She's not wearing any underwear,' he thought to himself while staring between her legs at her exposed black pussy. 'Where's her panties? She was wearing them before.'

Difficult for him not to notice, especially with her flashing him her naked cunt, with her wearing panties before, she wasn't wearing panties now. Unable to think of anything else, a dozen sexual thoughts electrified his mind with sexual excitement. He just saw her pussy. Forget about seeing Marlene's panties, he just saw Marlene's pussy. He just saw his co-worker's hairy cunt.

'Wow!'

She must have removed them in the restroom. But why? Maybe she had an accident. Maybe she's purposely flashing him. Maybe she's sexually teasing him and trying to seduce him. Maybe she's hoping he'd give her sex. With her so much older than him, nearly old enough to be his mother, and with him not very sexually experienced, he didn't know what to think.

Suddenly mad with sexual desire for his mature co-worker, Jay was beside himself with horniness. As soon as he saw Marlene's pussy, with him horny from his wife refusing him sex, he wanted to touch her, finger her, lick her, make love to her, and fuck her. He wanted to do all of those sexual things with his co-worker that he longed to do with his wife. Only, with her fifteen years older than him, and with her having three children, someone like her would never have sex with someone like him. Compared to her, even though he was studying for his PhD, he was just a kid.

Yet, while driving her home and with her sitting beside him, he couldn't stop from thinking that she wasn't wearing panties. As if she had a black kitty between her legs, and surely she did, her black, bushy pussy controlled his thoughts. He couldn't stop thinking about her naked, black bush of a pussy. As he drove her home in the rain, with the cool rain doing little to control his sexual desire for her, he couldn't help but stare over at her.

Then, teasing him even more, as if she was airing out her pussy and/or advertising to get laid, she put her heels up on his dashboard. He watched her short skirt slowly slide even higher up her thighs. Now with her knees spread, her skirt was nearly up to her pussy. He wished he had a mirror on the dashboard that he could turn for a better view between her legs.

'Fuck me,' he thought to himself. 'If only I dared, I'd love to stick my hand in between her legs and grab a whole handful of her naked cunt.'

Having to ponder no longer, she took control of the sexual situation.

"Stop here," she said as they came up to a secluded spot.

Surprised that she wanted him to stop the car, maybe she needed to pee again. Obediently as if he was driving his mother, Jay pulled over and stopped the car. As soon as he stopped the car, she turned to him and gave him a look that made him want to kiss her. Unnerved by her look and afraid he may try something sexual with her that he may regret tomorrow, he gulped down his horniness and his hard to control sexual desire for his co-worker.

"What's wrong? Why did you want me to stop the car?"

As if they were already lovers or soon to be lovers, she gave him a seductive smile.

"Wrong? There's nothing wrong. I just needed to have your full attention before telling you something," she said.

Although he suspected that she was angry at him for ogling her panties and naked cunt, he really had no idea what she was going to say? Maybe it was something about work. Maybe when holding the car door open for her, she caught him looking at her panties. Maybe while at the gas station, she saw him staring at her pussy. 

'Oh, my God,' he was suddenly ashamed.

Suddenly embarrassed for sexually lusting over her, his mature, motherly co-worker, maybe his fly is down. With his cock already pulsating in his pants fueled by the sexual desire he suddenly had for her, he stealthily checked his fly before giving her his full attention. Maybe she noticed the growing bulge in his pants.

'That's embarrassing,' he thought.

As if she was about to scold him for looking at all that she was inadvertently showing, suddenly he felt awkward sitting there next to her. Suddenly feeling like the pervert that he is for suspecting that she was deliberately flashing him, he was busy chastising himself. Beyond being embarrassed, he felt conspicuous in his sexual desire for her. If he had anyone to blame for his horniness, he blamed his wife.

'Frigging Ruth, you selfish, drunken whore of a bitch,' he thought to himself.

He looked at her with as much shame as he looked at her with curiosity. He just wanted to get over with her scolding him for staring at her panties and leering at her pussy.

"What?" As if he didn't know. He knew she was going to chew him out for looking at her as if she was an exhibitionistic slut and looking at her as if she was his drunken, whore of a wife. He gulped down his pride before asking her his question while already knowing her answer. "What is it that you want to tell me?"

She removed her feet from his dashboard to move them to the floor. As if she was a sexual tease and she was, she raised her skirt a little higher. He couldn't believe it when she raised her skirt instead of lowering her skirt.

"I put my panties in my purse, when I stopped to pee at the filling station," she said giving him a naughty look.

As if his eyes were Atari pong balls, he looked from her eyes to look down at her naked thighs over and again. She moved closer to him on the bench seat. She was close enough, so close to him that he could smell her perfume. He could smell her shampoo. He could suddenly detect the musky aroma of her sexual desire for him. Then, she did something that he never expected a mother of three to do. She lifted the hem of her skirt higher and high enough to show him her naked pussy.




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #04



"See?" She looked down at her pussy with him as if to see what he could see of her and what she was showing him. She looked up at him with as much lust as he looked at her with horniness. "Touch me," she said giving him an inviting sexy smile while biting her lips with obvious sexual anticipation.

Never had he met a woman who was as sexually aggressive. Never had he met a woman who sexually knew what she wanted. Seemingly, she wanted what he wanted. Seemingly, she was just as horny as he was.

Normally, before he was married but not having much sex since, Jay always kissed a woman first. Normally hoping to get to first or second base after a few dates of spending money on her and making out with her afterwards, he'd make his move to feel her tits and her ass before daring himself to feel her pussy. Only, with Marlene already giving him the head-for-home signal as if he hit one out of the park, without as much as kissing her first, he reached his left hand over to finger Marlene's cunt.

Weird that there wasn't any foreplay, not wasting any time with small talk, kissing, and/or petting, she was already wet when he touched her. She was so wet that he thought she may have peed herself but it wasn't pee. She was soaked with her vaginal secretions.

A real sexual, sexy woman, Marlene was so much wetter than Ruth ever was with him. With her full of surprises, without him even kissing her and parting her lips with his tongue while feeling her breasts through her blouse or reaching behind her to squeeze her ample ass, she invited him to touch her pussy. He couldn't believe that this mature woman not only exposed her cunt to him but also invited him to touch her.

'Holy shit! Wow!'

As soon as he fingered her pussy, rubbed her clit, and briefly inserted his finger inside of her, with her not wasting another second with small talk, touching, feeling, or kissing, she leaned over in the seat, unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped him. While staring up at him as if hoping to see his reaction to her touch, she reached her hand down in his underwear. Immediately, as if grabbing merchandise from a half-off sale at Macy's, she wrapped her small hand around his big dick and pulled out his cock. 

In the way she looked down at her pussy with him when she was showing him her cunt, she looked down with him while staring at his naked cock. Looking at him with those beautifully expressive, big, brown eyes, she slowly stoked him while raising her head to look up at him. If it wasn't enough that she showed him her pussy and asked him to touch her, he couldn't believe it when she pulled out his prick and started slowly stroking him. Then, further blowing his mind, he couldn't believe what she did next. She gave him a sexy, naughty look before leaning over in her seat again, this time to move her head in his lap and to take him in her mouth. 

'Oh, my God,' he thought while looking down at the back of Marlene's dark brown, hairy head. 'She's sucking me. I can't believe Marlene is blowing me.'

As if he was dreaming or having a sexual fantasy while masturbating himself, he couldn't believe she was blowing him. Marlene was blowing him. As if she had just been released from a woman's prison after serving a long stretch, she was sucking his cock with great abandon. Her mouth was so warm and so wet and her lips engulfed his stiff prick with just the right amount of pressure. The first, real blowjob he's ever had, not dabbling with his cock in the way that Ruth does, she was blowing him, really blowing him, as if she was a thousand dollar call girl, a small fortune back then.

Something his wife wouldn't even do, he couldn't believe Marlene was sucking his cock. With her head bobbing up and down with her hand, she was sucking his prick with animated enthusiasm. She made all of those cock sucking sounds that men love hearing to prove that the women sucking their cocks were enjoying sucking his pricks as much as they were enjoying having their pricks sucked. He remembered listening to the rain pounding the roof of his car while Marlene's little hand pounded his cock as she sucked him. 

Not stopping to tell him to let her know when he was ready to cum and to ask him not to cum in her mouth, she continued stroking him while sucking him until he ejaculated all that he had in her mouth. As if she wanted him to cum in her mouth as much as he wanted to cum in her mouth, he didn't even have to put a hand to the back of her head for her to swallow all that he had to give. Then, seemingly proud that she excelled at being a great cocksucker, she sat up in the seat and straightened her skirt while licking her full lips. She turned the rearview mirror for her to see herself and fluffed her long, black hair with a practiced hand before looking over at him as if she had something important to tell him.

"Just so we're clear," she said mincing no words. "It's my turn next time."

The first time kissing her, she leaned over and kissed him. Normally he must kiss a woman before sexually getting anywhere with her. This time, ass backwards, she blew him as soon as he fingered her pussy and before he even felt her tits. Parting his lips with her tongue, she French kissed him. He could taste himself on her lips and on her tongue but he didn't care. It was all good.

He was getting all that he had hoped and expected to get from his wife from this MILF of an older woman. With them on the same page sexually, seemingly she was as insatiable in her sexual desire for him as he was for her. If only he had married someone like Marlene, he'd be a happy, sexually satisfied man instead of a miserable, sexually frustrated husband. If only Ruth was more like Marlene in sexually wanting him and not a drunken whore hot for any man willing to buy her booze, he'd never cheat on her in the way that she continues to cheat on him.

Then, kissing and kissing him, they made out like two horny teenagers on Prom night. He felt her modest breasts and fingered the impressions of her big, emerging nipples. It was when he started unbuttoning her blouse and reached his still horny hand inside of her bra to finger her dark, brown nipples that she stopped him.

"Sorry but I have to get home to my kids," she said buttoning her blouse. "We'll meet at the library tomorrow night."

* * * * *

All the next day, Jay couldn't think of anything other than Marlene blowing him, him cumming in her willing mouth, and, without even having to put a heavy hand to the back of her head, her freely swallowing his cum. All the next day, he couldn't stop thinking about her flashing him her panty clad pussy before flashing him her naked pussy. All the next day, unable to concentrate on his work, he spent his entire day staring up at the clock and counting down the hours until he'd see Marlene again. That night with Jay working in the lab and taking a break in the cafeteria, Marlene was there too. As if there to find a book or to do research, they headed over to the library.

With the library always open but never crowded, especially at that late hour, it was as public a place to meet as it was a private place to meet. She worked there while earning her master's degree in psychology. Only that night, she wasn't working late. That night she wasn't looking into someone's naked mind in the way that she was looking at Jay's naked body. That night, just as Jay was there for sex, she was there for sex too. As promised, she was there for Jay to sexually satisfy her matronly body.

"We have all night. I hired a babysitter," she said.

They walked down the dimly lit aisles of the library. As if he could hear the authors whispering their words of sexy gossip at them, they walked along the rows of books and past the private study rooms. They were all there watching them about to have their illicit, sexual affair, Gustave Fluabert's Madame Bovary, Edith Wharton's Beatrice Palmato, Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer, 9 ½ Weeks by Ingeborg Day, James Joyce's Ulysses, and Justine by the Marquis de Sade.

At the end of the aisle, they took a left and walked to the far corner of the library and turned to an office in the corner that had a couch and a desk. Marlene closed and locked the door as if she owned the place. Even though it was her removing her panties and flashing him her pussy, it was the unbelievable blowjob she gave him that started their sexual affair.

Suddenly freezing him into inaction, with her not shy, modest, or embarrassed, as if she was giving him a personal striptease, and she was, he watched her remove her blouse, her skirt, her bra, and her panties. Then, she gave him a look that told him that she expected him to strip naked too and he did. Marlene put a small towel on the couch that she pulled out of her pocketbook and sat on the couch with her legs spread. 

"Eat me," she said raising her hairy pussy lips with her fingers to show him some glistening pink. 

With her pussy so hairy, her cunt appeared as if she had the head of a small, wild animal, a Tasmanian devil, poking out of her vagina.

"Then, after you make me cum with your mouth and fingers, I want you to make love to me and make me cum with your cock. I want you to make love to me as if you really love me," said unable to hide the sadness in her eyes. "Still not done with you yet, after you make love to me, I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me really hard," she said with her obviously much more sexually experienced than he was. "I want you pound my pussy as if I'm your whore and you're my pimp."

'Oh, my God,' he thought while suddenly feeling pressure to perform.

Obviously not even knowing how to properly eat a pussy, other than to continually lick it, Marlene taught Jay how to make her cum with his mouth, tongue, and fingers. She's the one responsible for turning him into a pussy eating machine and a real expert at cunnilingus. She's the one who taught him how to sexually please a woman before a woman will take personal pride in sexually pleasing a man.

"As if lapping me in the way a dog drinks water, but without curling your tongue, lick my clit with your flat tongue," she said. He moved closer to her to lick her in the way she instructed.

"Like that?"

He stopped licking her to speak while lifting his head to look up at her.

"Yeah, just like that, only harder and faster," she said putting a gentle, motherly hand to the back of his head. "Now suck my clit while teasing the tip of it with your tongue. Stick your finger in me and curl it up to that spot. Do you feel that? Do you feel something round that feels like a little pebble? That's my bean and my sexual on button," she said with a dirty laugh. "Now while rubbing that with your finger and pushing down on it to apply some gentle pressure, suck my clit again, really suck it as if your intent on swallowing it."

What was always so laborious with Ruth, licking her for what seemed like hours, Marlene had an orgasm in just a few minutes. She moaned, she thrashed about, and she made little, whimpering sounds as if she was in pain instead of being in pleasure. Then, when he jammed her cunt into his lips and jabbed his tongue in the way of a fighter punching a heavy bag, she exploded her orgasm. As is she was a geyser at Yellowstone or a broken furnace pipe, she had an orgasm as in the way of a fountain full of hot steam. 

Not taking moment to bask in the afterglow of sex, fearing that someone would happen upon them, she reached in her pocketbook and pulled out a condom. As if wrapping an expensive gift, and indeed it obviously was to her, Marlene rolled the condom down on Jay's hard, erect cock. While helping him on with his protection, she fondled his cock and cupped his balls, something his wife seldom if ever did to him but she seemingly did to any man other than him, her own husband.

'The bitch,' he thought when thinking about his wife.

She was such a dirty bitch to force him to have sex with another woman. Yet, glad that he did, Marlene was a tremendous lover. Seemingly she enjoyed having sex as much as he did. She enjoyed sucking his cock as much as she enjoyed having him eat her pussy. Now he couldn't wait to bury his cock in her. Now, he couldn't to make love to her. Now he couldn't wait to fuck her. 

As if she was his sexual education teacher, what Jay learned from Marlene was that when a man sexually satisfied a woman first, she'd return the sexual favor with pleasure. That lesson was something he never forgot and carried throughout the rest of his sexual life. Wearing it as a badge of sexual enlightenment, he always pleased women before expecting women to pleasure him.

Forget about making love, Marlene fucked him. With her strong, short legs wrapped around him, Jay fucked her as hard and as fast as he could. Whenever he slowed, she'd arch her back and push down with her feet. Then, she'd abruptly drop her body back down on the couch. The motion she did caused his cock to slide out of her a little, then as if self-propelled, her motion launched his cock back in her cunt with more force. Fucking him into a trance, with him breathing heavily, and unable to close his mouth, he drooled saliva all over her breasts as if he was a starving man and she was a steak dinner.

"Marlene, oh, my God. This feels so good," said Jay.

With her full of sexual confidence, as if she knew that it felt so good, she gave him a smile of self-satisfaction.

"Ram me, lover boy. Don't worry. I'm not fragile," she said in a sexy voice that was filled with passion and desire. "A woman's pussy is tougher than any man's cock. Fuck me, Jay. Fuck me, really fuck me," she said returning his humps as hard as he humped her.

Being a young rampant stud, totally immersed in sexual feelings for Marlene's womanly body, with her whole persona as a hot MILF looking for steaming passion, Jay had already anticipated the night's sexual events. He entered the men's room at the cafeteria before meeting her and ducked in a stall. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his turgid cock. While remembering her black, furry pussy and the sexually arousing aroma of her cunt, he stroked himself steadily faster and harder. 

He spit in his palms and grabbed his cock with both hands, and as if he was this cock was buried inside of her pussy instead of in his hands, he stroked, turned, and twisted his erect prick while leaning against the wall. Then, turning to face the toilet, he exhaled a series of grunts and moans while ejecting strings of hot, milky cum into the water as his balls quivered and his head spun with sexual desire for Marlene. All he could think of was her flashing him her bushy, black naked pussy, her blowing him, and the musky, sweet bouquet of her pussy.

Then, once he sexually satisfied himself by masturbating himself, when he was finally fucking her, fucking her in unreal passion, fucking her with power and youth, and pounding her cunt with sexual derangement, he'd have a better chance of holding back his cum. After hand cranking a load of jizz into the toilet of the men's room, he'd make sure that he didn't spoil her fun and ruin her orgasm by prematurely ejaculating. Masturbating himself was the essential ingredient to being able to make her scream with orgasms by fucking her. It was the only way that he could hold on until her clit triggered the feminine equivalent of a Tsunami of fluids onto his hot, hard penis as he fucked her, fucked her, and fucked her.

Then, when she started shaking and rolling her hips in the way of an old car on a bumpy road, he had a hard time hanging on to her but somehow he did. Fucking her harder, he fucked her faster. He was determined to give her the orgasm that she deserved to have. He was determined to give her the orgasm that would make her give him the orgasm that he needed. Worth him masturbating himself in anticipation of fucking her, really fucking her hard, he was glad that he had hand fucked himself for him to delay what they both so desperately needed now.

"I'm cumming, you motherfucker," she said. "I'm a mother, you're a fucker, and you're fucking me. That makes you a motherfucker. Say it. Say it. I want to hear you call yourself a motherfucker, you motherfucker," she said.

Marlene hung onto Jay as if she was a drowning woman and he was saving her life. In a way he was. With her busy working, going to school, and raising three children without a man in her life, obviously, she was just as sexually frustrated as he was.

"Yes! Yes! You're a mother, I'm your fucker, and I'm your motherfucker," he said.

To be continued...

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Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #05



Please vote. Please give me the support of your vote.

I dedicate this story to Walter from Southern California.

*

Something that all women say one time or another, "How do you like me now?"

Later in their marriage, had they not shared the commonality of them both being cheating spouses who were sexually attracted to young, firm flesh, Jay didn't think that his marriage would have survived. With Ruth turning her head from his cheating on her in the way Jay turned his head from her cheating on him, and with one not sexually wanting the other anyway, they both got what they needed from others. They both not only sexually satisfied their horniness but also quelled their jealousy and possessiveness by having sex with strangers. Everything was fine as long as Ruth drank herself drunk, didn't flaunt her extramarital affairs to their neighbors and friends, and/or rub her young boyfriends in his face.

Especially in the beginning when they first met as young, college students, certainly there was much more to Ruth than becoming a cougar addicted to sex and a drunk addicted to alcohol as defined by Jay later in life. Certainly, if she showed those traits then, he never would have even dated her, never mind marrying her. Only, Ruth knew how to play the sexy game of teasing, enticing, and sexual seduction. Giving men what they wanted, what they wanted was sex, she knew how to play men to get what she needed, what she wanted was booze.

With Jay her submissive cuckold of a boyfriend, it was an easy transition to transform him to be her submissive cuckold of a husband. With sex being the prize that she always gave her young lovers, she obviously knew that she wouldn't have to give her husband sex for him to continue supporting her. Obviously, she knew the way to keep him around supporting her was to abuse him and to belittle him. He showed her early on that he liked that. In the way she controlled all of her young lovers as if she was their mother, she did the same with her husband. Only, even though neither one of them were into bondage, sadism, and masochism, she more played the role of his dominatrix than she did his mother.

What happened to her to make her that way, a whore and a drunk? Was she born addicted to cock in the way she was addicted to alcohol? Was it simply because her father was a drunk, she inherited the gene to give her the need for an excessive amount of alcohol too? In the way of the chicken and the egg, was she a whore because she was a drunk or a drunk because she was a whore. What did it matter?

After being married to her all these years and with her cheating on her husband all of these years, did it make a difference now if she was a whore because she was a drunk or a drunk because she was a whore? Who cares? The bottom line is that Ruth is a drunken whore. Too difficult for Jay or for anyone to unravel, Ruth's problems were issues he'd never know the answer to unless she agreed to see a psychiatrist, which she'd never agree to see. If she did see a therapist and if he was a man instead of woman, with her very persuasive in her powers of sexual seduction, she'd probably end up having sex with him.

Yet, Jay, a brilliant man, was a scientist with a Ph.D. in physical chemistry, the study of macroscopic, atomic, subatomic, and the particulate phenomena in chemical systems in terms of the laws and concepts of physics. A trained researcher, he was accustomed to seeing things that others couldn't and didn't. He had a talent for seeing through the smoke, the mirrors, and the bullshit while stating the obvious articulately, simply, concisely, and truthfully and without holding back any punches. Yet seemingly, while hoping for sex, he enjoyed being submissive to his wife's whimsy. Much in the way of how a dog adapts with learned behavior, their sexual peccadilloes that they did in the early stages of their marriage had morphed to become routine and difficult to break habits now.

Certainly, even though he was evidently controlled by Ruth, he was strong enough not to be controlled by her if he didn't want to be controlled by her. Tired of having the same arguments without anything changing to improve their marriage, it was sometimes just easier to go with the flow. Giving into her for the sake of having peace in his life, it was sometimes just easier to relinquish his control to her. Yet, after a while of allowing her to control him, she grew stronger and he grew weaker. 

Unfortunately, especially when it came to falling in total lust with Ruth as a 20-year-old man, he hadn't yet developed that skill-set talent of seeing through people and stating the obvious, especially with women, until later in life. As a horny, young man, he had always been a sucker for a shapely, pretty woman. With him addicted to sex early on, a typical guy, he had always been a sucker for big tits, a round ass, a tight pussy, and shapely legs. He had always been a sucker for getting laid and receiving blowjobs.

Instead, of thinking with his big brain, he thought more with his penis. With her such a sexy, conniving, devious bitch and already knowing how to play the sex card to get all that she wanted and needed from him, he was taken in by Ruth's feminine charms. In the way he was sexually abused by his mother, he was sexually abused by his wife too. In the way that he thought his mother was the love of his life, he thought his wife was the love of his life too. With him still blaming himself for the death of his mother after her last act was to have sex with him, it took him 25 years to realize that he didn't need his wife treating him less than he was. With Ruth unable to support herself, unless he gave her a big divorce settlement, she needed him more than he needed her.

Jay knew that his sexual attraction to Ruth and in allowing her to mistreat him had something to do with his mother. He wondered had his mother survived if he could have unraveled his mother's psychological hold on him to explain his wife's psychological hold on him too. Yet, his mother was much nicer than Ruth. His mother wasn't the selfish, drunken, whore of a bitch that Ruth was. His mother would never mistreat him and take advantage of him in the way that Ruth had done and was still doing now. Even if his mother killed herself because they had sex, he cherished the memory of having sex with his mother in the same way that he cherished the memory of having sex with Ruth before they were married. 

Ruth was not the same woman he married. As if she was a witch who cast an evil, sexual spell on him, with him nothing more than a toad, he was her helpless frog. As if she was a poisonous spider weaving her web of trickery and deceit, he was her dumb, trapped fly, a fly that she never sucked dry in the way she sucked Christopher dry and all of other, young lovers dry. Instead, with him having sex with other, young women and her having sex with other young men, neither one was willing to rock the boat by filing for a divorce. He was seldom home anyway. Just as what she didn't know he sexually did with woman couldn't be used against him in divorce court, what he didn't know she sexually did with men wouldn't hurt him.

Even though he knew she was a drunk, as long as she wasn't falling down drunk in front of him, their daughter, and/or their neighbors and friends, he didn't care that she drank. Even though he knew she was cheating on him in the way he was cheating on her, unless she rubbed her young lovers in his face, he didn't care about that either. In the way that she closed her eyes to his sexual affairs, he closed his eyes to her sexual affairs too.

With her having no reason to rock the boat, she allowed Jay to live, prosper, and continue to support her while he traveled the country and the world having sex with young women and she had sex with young men. The end result, just as he was no match for her then, he was no match for her now. Had he had the time and the desire, he would have put her in her place but it was easier for him to ignore her and to shun her as if she wasn't even there than to continue to argue with her.

Unfortunately, even brilliant, unsuspecting men can be taken advantage of by wily and insincere women who use sex to tease, entice, and to seduce them for their own personal agendas, financial security, and monetary gain. His fatal flaw, something that goes back to the incestuous, sexual relationship that he enjoyed with his mother, in the way his mother controlled him with the promise of sex, he enjoyed her controlling him with the promise of sex too. If he didn't enjoy being so controlled and wasn't still sexually attracted to her, he would have divorced his wife years ago.

With his fatal flaw never changing and still the same from this mother to his wife, even though Ruth treated him worse than a dog, like shit, he was still so very sexually attracted to her. Only, his mother treated him much better than his wife. Yet, even with his wife's continued mistreatment of him, deep down inside he still loved her but that would all change over the years. After a while, instead of loving her, he hated her. 

* * * * *

Except for her drinking, Ruth was no better or no worse than so many women who pretended to be innocent virgins and/or loving wives, not that Ruth was a virgin and/or ever a loving wife; she was neither. Yet, turned off on woman and marriage after being married to Ruth, even though he was once a sensitive and loving man, Jay now painted all woman with the same wide, black brush as greedy, gold digging, cheating whores. Still, even though he was now basically a woman hater, his disliking of women still didn't stop him from having sex with women, lots of women. With men having unrealistic expectations for the purity and modesty of their women by putting them high up on pedestals, men are easily disappointed. It is the fault of men that women have to revert to lying about their past sexual partners while pretending how modestly moral and sexually innocent they are.

Jay thought of all the women who not only sexually teased him and enticed him but also who sexually played every man he knew with the empty promise of sex. As if women were fishing with a baited line in a barrel full of unsuspecting men, his friends all had the same, sad stories of how women used them to get whatever they wanted with the promise of sex. Whether it was a diamond, a fur, a car, or a house, all of the men he knew worked hard to make a living while their women stayed home as if they were their pampered pets or trophy wives.

Seemingly happy and sexually satisfied, everything was fine until men married these conniving, bitchy, self-centered women. Then, once they married them that was the end of their sexy fun for their husbands but open season for them to have sexual affair with other men. Except to advertise their sexuality to other men, why else would married women continue to wear low cut blouses, short skirts, and high heels when they're no longer in the dating game? Why else would women dress like the whores that they are when they're not giving their husband sex?

Once they married them, with too many women cheating whores, many women look to see how they could cheat on their husbands while still retaining their modestly moral, fictional persona and their financial income. Once they married them, women dangled sex over their head in the way of the elusive carrot tied to a string and attached to a stick. Once they married them, women blamed men for all of their personal problems. Always the men's fault, it was always the men paying for the pleasures received from women by supporting them in their lifestyles for the rest of their miserable lives. How dare they do that to men? How dare Ruth do that to Jay?

With men always deemed the cheaters, too many men have a difficult time thinking that their wives are unfaithful where women always suspect their men of being unfaithful and lying about their infidelities. Not blinded by a great set of tits and a nice ass, seemingly women are more realistic than men in seeing men for who they truly are. Instead of putting men high up on pedestals, they'd rather put them in the doghouse for being the dirty dogs that they all are.

Yet, what men don't know is that women sexually cheat as much as men do. The difference is that women aren't boastful about their sexual conquests. Women don't come home with a pocketful of receipts from nightclubs and strip joints. Women hide their infidelities better than do men. Women have better passwords on their computers and cell phones.

Ruth was no different than many women who were willing to trade the promise of sex for money. With women using what they inherently have to make men happy enough to support them for their entire lives, women use the only tools they have at their disposal. All that most women have, especially those women without an education and who are unable to support themselves, are their looks, their bodies, their tits and their asses, and the experienced sexuality of their hands, their mouths, and their pussies. Most times, those feminine physical attributes are plenty enough to get them whatever they want from men.

Certainly, being a drunken whore of a woman was not justification for Ruth cheating on Jay with other men, but she was only doing what her mother and her grandmother did before her. If only Jay could see how the rest of the world lived, perhaps he wouldn't be as hard on himself and on Ruth for doing what came naturally to her. Compared to other woman around the world, aside from her being a drunk, Ruth was no better, no worse, and no different than most women.

* * * * *

"Presto chango," said Lola pushing back the shower curtain in one quick swipe to shock the shit out of her male guest.

As if she was emerging from a dressing room in a department store while not fully dressed, she emerged from the shower naked and without the modesty of her towel. With the man she just met thinking that she's a modestly, moral woman when she's a selfish slut and bitch of a whore, she knew how to play him with sex to get what she wanted. Not shy, embarrassed, and/or ashamed of her nakedness, she knew exactly what she was doing in exposing her naked body to him.

Sexually teasing and erotically enticing him, she knew he'd be more interested in her once he saw her beautiful, sexy, shapely, and naked body. She knew she'd get whatever she wanted from him once he saw her tits, her ass, and her pussy. She knew she'd have total control of him once she allowed him to touch her, feel her, make love to her, and fuck her before she sucked him and allowed him to cum in her mouth while he watched her swallow.

"How do you like me now?"

* * *

"Oops," said Tiffany allowing her blue, sexy, satin nightgown to slowly fall from her naked body down to her feet and in front of her new boyfriend. "Viola," she said raising her hands over her head, then turning and bending at the waist to show him more of what he hoped to see.

Obviously, without her pushing them back in place, she purposely allowed her nightgown straps to slip from her shoulders and slide down her arms. Then, as if she was a snake shedding her skin, she deliberately allowed her nightgown to slither down her curvy body. With him thinking that she's a modestly, moral woman when she's a selfish slut and a bitch of a whore, she knew how to play him with sex to get what she wanted. Not shy, embarrassed, and/or ashamed of her nakedness, she knew exactly what she was doing in exposing herself to him.

She was sexually teasing and erotically enticing her new boyfriend with her beautiful, sexy, shapely, and naked body. She knew she'd get whatever she wanted from him once he saw her tits, her ass, and her pussy. She knew she'd have total control of him once she allowed him to touch her, feel her, make love to her, and fuck her before she sucked him and allowed him to cum in her mouth while he watched her swallow.

"How do you like me now?"

* * *

"Abracadabra. Now you see it and now you don't," said Veronica before taking the entire length of her fiancé's cock in her mouth and deep throating him.

Not stopping there, she allowed him to hump her mouth and fuck her face. He didn't even have to put a hand to the back of her head to allow him to cum in her mouth and for her to swallow his cum. As soon as she sucked him dry, she ejected his stiff prick from her mouth with her tongue so she could speak. She knew she'd have total control of him once she allowed him to touch her, feel her, make love to her, and fuck her before she sucked him and allowed him to cum in her mouth while he watched her swallow.

With him thinking that she's a modestly moral woman when she's a selfish slut and a bitch of a whore, she knew how to play him with sex, especially with a blowjob, to get what she wanted. In the way he acted so surprised, shocked actually, that she not only blew him and allowed him to cum in her mouth but also swallowed his cum, she acted as if this was her first time sucking cock. She could have won an Academy Award for her feigned innocence. Not shy, embarrassed, and/or ashamed of her superior cock sucking skills, she was sexually teasing and erotically enticing her fiancé by giving him a deep throat blowjob. 

"How do you like me now?"

* * *

"Open Sesame," said Crystal spreading her legs wide to her newlywed husband.

This erotic, exotic, and explicit show of her naked pussy was her husband's personal invitation for him to finger her and lick her before making love to her and fucking her. With him thinking that she's a modestly, moral woman when she's a selfish slut and a bitch of a whore, she knew how to play him with sex to get what she wanted. Not shy, embarrassed, and/or ashamed of her open legged nudity in showing her nude husband her glistening, pink pussy, she was sexually teasing and erotically enticing her just married husband with her womanly charms.

Controlling him with the promise of sex, she knew this is how she'd always have her wicked way with him. She knew she'd get whatever she wanted from him once he saw her tits, her ass, and her pussy. She knew she'd have total control of him once she allowed him to touch her, feel her, make love to her, and fuck her before she sucked him and allowed him to cum in her mouth while he watched her swallow.

"How do you like me now?"

* * * * *

Once they were married, living with Ruth was so very much different than when dating her. If only he knew then what he knows now, he never would have married her. With Jay expecting more sex from his wife than from her when she was his girlfriend, the opposite was true and he received less sex. Seemingly, surprisingly, and disappointingly, now that she had his ring on her finger and his name as part of her name, she no longer had to play sexy games to get what she wanted. She no longer had to drop her towel, allow her nightgown to fall to her feet, deep throat his cock to show him her cock sucking skills, or expose her naked pussy to him.

She no longer had to pretend that she was sexually attracted to him and/or even liked him. With the sexy games that women play now over, he was her husband and she was his wife. A 50/50 split under California divorce law made her entitled to half of everything. Instead of her being his bitch, he was her bitch now.

"Sex? Pardon me?" Ruth looked at Jay as if he was nuts. "You want sex tonight?" 

As if she was a black diva or a ghetto woman playing the part of a virgin, she shot him a look of disbelief before putting her hand on her hip.

"Well, yeah," said Jay almost apologetically. "I'm horny and I was hoping that—"

She sighed loudly while rolling her eyes and shaking her head sideways.

"You've got to be kidding me. I'm tired. I have a headache. I have my period. I'm too upset. Not tonight. Never, not ever, will I have sex with you again," said Ruth to Jay while wagging her stiff index finger in his face. "I'm still mad at you for not buying me this, not doing that, and for being a man."




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #05



* * * * *

Much like what happens to most men, especially when it comes to sexy, beautiful women that they have a sexual attraction for, they're unable to see the forest for the trees. Even the brightest men, the coolest men, the wealthiest men, the most sexually experienced men, and those men who think they're in control of their women are sometimes unable to see past the biggest tits, the shapeliest asses, and the prettiest faces of the most conniving women. It's only after they've married them that they finally see the women for who they truly are, nasty, whores and selfish, slutty bitches.

Twisted around their fingers for the mere promise of unlimited sex, women have their ways to get any man to do whatever is their bidding. It's only after the poor, pitiful men have married them that the true, selfish personalities of the real women emerge. It's only after the poor, pitiful men have impregnated them that the true bitches that they are materializes with vengeance and with their demoralizing demands on their time and money.

"Don't forget to pick up the dry cleaning. Don't forget to buy milk and diapers on your way home from work. And pick up a pizza. I'm not cooking tonight. I'm going out with my friends while you watch the baby," said Ruth to Jay. "And I'm going to need some money," said Ruth holding out her hand.

Instead of working together as a team, too many couples are always at odds and in opposition and in competition with one another. Only Ruth wanted more instead of less. She wanted more than what was required of a husband to give his wife and a man to give a woman. While still staying married and having Ray support her, she wanted her booze and she wanted her young lovers. She wanted it all. 

With her not allowing him to get the better of her, she was different than most women back then who were happy being wives, homemakers, and mothers. With her not even allowing him to come home from work after a long hard day at the office and relax with a drink before she's at him about this, that, and the other thing, she was relentless in her complaints and unhappiness. As it turns out all of her complaints were from her not drinking in front of him. All of her unhappiness was from her not having sex with young men because he was home and in her way. 

With her off screwing other men instead of him, he decided that the only way he was going to have sex is to screw other women. In all things human, no matter that she was a mere woman who didn't have a job, a college education, and/or an income other than his income, she wanted to be his equal. Difficult for women to be taken seriously back then, she would have been better off had she been born a man instead of a woman. Actually, with him so submissive and the women he's sexually attracted to so domineering, Jay's life would have been much better had he been born a woman instead of a man.

* * * * *

Men may get women in bed more but woman have a way of marrying those men who have sex with them. If a woman is going to fool around with a man who has money, power, and influence, lots of money, power, and influence, she wants him to put a ring on her finger. As evidence that women are the stronger sex in getting men to the altar, we need only look to strong men, successful men, and persuasive men who have nonetheless said "I do," more than four times to a mere women.

Larry King was married nine times to eight different women. Artie Shaw and Mickey Rooney were married eight times to eight different women too. Richard Pryor and Jerry Lee Lewis were married seven times. Tony Curtis, Fred Berry, Rex Harrison, Boris Karloff, Stan Laurel, and Henry VIII were married six times. Clark Gable, Dennis Hopper, James Cameron, Billy Bob Thornton, Martin Scorsese, Henry Fonda, George C. Scott, John Huston, George Foreman, Geraldo Rivera, Al Goldstein, Idi Amin Dada, Larry Flynt, Lorenzo Lamas, and Kenny Rogers were all married five times. Ben Folds, Eddie Fisher, Louis Armstrong, Ernest Hemingway, Frank Sinatra, Glen Campbell, Willie Nelson, Jason Robards, Tom Cruise, and Ben Kingsley were all married four times.

As if going for some type of matrimonial record, thirty-six men were married, one-hundred-ninety times. Thirty-sex men said "I do," one-hundred-ninety times. Thirty-six men paid millions of dollars to divorce one-hundred-ninety women. Were the women worth all of that time, trouble, and money? I wish I could ask them that question. The wedding planners, florists, and caterers must have loved to see them getting divorced only to get remarried yet again.

Donald Trump, one of the biggest womanizers in the world today after Hugh Hefner, was only married three times, the rest of the men listed above have been married four times to nine times. Yet, forget about marriages and having babies, there are those men who would just rather have sex than getting married. Somehow, the below listed men were able to turn the table on women and use them for sex before finally falling victim to women who got them to church on time. 

Fidel Castro, Wilt Chamberlain, Winston Bennett, Warren Beatty, Ron Jeremy, Gene Simmons, Huge Hefner, Julio Iglesias, Jack Nicholson, Bill Wyman, Rod Stewart, and Tony Curtis, all have had more than 100,000 lovers between them. Twelve men had sex with more than 100,000 women. With Fidel Castro admitting to having sex with 35,000 women and Wilt Chamberlain admitting to having sex with more than 20,000 women, those two men are responsible for half of the deflowered women on the list. The other ten men had sex with more than 45,000 women. Those are big numbers.

A dictator, a professional basketball player, a porn star, actors, singers, and a magazine mogul, where did they find the time to have sex with so many different women while doing their jobs and maintaining their successful careers? How did they summon the sexual desire and the physical energy to constantly and continually have sex? Who has that kind of sex drive? How did they keep the women's names straight and remember one from another? It's a good thing they all had a lot of money. 

* * * * *

Perhaps had Jay known that Ruth would become a cougar addicted to sex and a drunk addicted to alcohol, he wouldn't have married her. Only, with her playing him and with his sexual hormones not allowing him to see her for who she really was, she was the She-Devil disguised as a shapely and attractive 20-year-old college coed. Thinking more with his penis than with his big brain back then and thinking what he felt was real love instead of mere sexual lust, he never saw Ruth for who she really was, a cunt and a whore. She was the Devil in a red dress, blue dress, green dress, black dress, white dress or whatever color dress she was wearing. Spellbound and held captive by sex, he never saw the monster behind the pretty face and the shapely body until it was too late and until after he married her.

In essence, growing in his maturity, Jay was the one who changed and not Ruth. Having the bigger transformation of the two, he had morphed from a caterpillar to a butterfly. Jay transformed from a young man in sexual lust, to a loving, faithful husband who truly loved his wife. Then, as if bitten by a vampire craving sex instead of blood, when she refused him sex, he became as sex crazed as his wife. Only, instead of maintaining sexual lust only for Ruth, in the way that his wife had sex with young men, Jay had sex with young women.

He changed for a second time from a loving husband to a sex crazed college professor who had sex with women half his age on campus and off campus. Much later, his biggest metamorphosis, he mutated from a sex addicted college professor to a perversely perverted world traveling businessman who had sex with women and prostitutes all around the globe. Changing yet again after divorcing Ruth, he reverted from a sex addicted businessman and world traveler to a loving husband with his second marriage. 

While Jay transformed himself four times, Ruth, true to herself, remained the same most of her adult life. A woman addicted to sex, the only transformation she had was having sex with men her age when she was in her twenties to having sex with men who were much younger than her when she was in her late thirties, forties, and early fifties. In essence, because she still continued to have sex with men in their twenties throughout her adult life, true to herself, she never transformed but remained the same.

A whore addicted to young men and a drunk addicted to alcohol, namely two olive martinis, had Jay paid more attention to his wife, especially in the beginning, before marrying her, he would have seen her for who she was. Only, he was controlled by sex as much as he was blinded by lust that he had mistaken for love. Perhaps he would have seen through her insincere façade of her telling him that she loves him and never would have married her in the first place. In hindsight, it was obvious that not only didn't she love him but also she never loved him.

Someone like her was as bad as a heroin addicted junky. She'd do anything to get her next drink. Addicted to alcohol and using sex to get her next drink, she was incapable of loving anyone, including her own daughter. With alcohol her drug of choice, getting drunk was more important than anything or anyone. Casting a blind eye by allowing her to continue doing whatever she wanted, Jay was more interested in his sexual conquests than he was in hers. By not divorcing her, he gave Ruth his silent nod that it was okay for her to continue drinking and fucking and sucking young men.

With Jay continually changing and Ruth remaining the same, they were never on the same page. Coming together at the right time to share the wrong life, they were two people who should have only had sex and never should have married. It's no secret that Ruth enjoyed sex but not with her husband. She enjoyed drinking but not with him either. Seemingly feeling protective and taken care of, she enjoyed being married but not to him. With neither one of them wanting a divorce and with money the big issue then, they were stuck with one another while making the best of things albeit ruining one another's lives.

* * * * *

A different time then, the 60's, 70's, and 80's spawned a new Age of Aquarius. Although men were still in charge of women, they were slowly but surely losing their control over the opposite sex. With women's movements awakening women all over the country and empowering women all over the world, women no longer felt guilty for behaving badly like men, especially when it came to drinking to an excess and having sex with multiple partners. 

With Jay working, traveling, and busy doing his own thing, he was seldom home. Temporarily pardoned from being married, Ruth seemingly felt as if she was given her freedom after being held a prisoner in a jail cell constructed for women by men. With Jay never around and always gone, Ruth was now free to do whatever she pleased, whenever she pleased, and with anyone she pleased.

She was married of course but that didn't stop her from having sexual affairs with numerous, young men just as it didn't stop her husband from cheating on her with college coeds, women he met, prostitutes, and escorts. With Jay a man, Ruth a woman, and both human, the only difference between them was the definition of their roles. Ruth was deemed a whore when having sex with young, college students and a drunk for drinking too much while Jay was deemed an academician when having sex with coeds and a respectable businessman when having sex with prostitutes and escorts. Go figure. 

Even though they were both whores for having sex with anyone and everyone, they were both addicted to sex. Only just not having sex with one another, they had sex with whoever, whenever. With Jay doing whatever he wanted, especially sexually, Ruth did whatever she wanted, especially sexually. With the dawning of the new age of Aquarius, it was easier for them to go with the flow of the new modern wave of sexuality than to swim against it and drown in the changing tide.

With them both the same age, actually with her a year older, seemingly early on, once he turned 30-years-old, he was already too old for her. She'd rather have sex with men in their twenties and, even though their sex life was somewhat better but already cooling when he was in his late twenties, she was already looking to other men, especially younger men. Later in life, the only time she made exceptions to her rule of having sex with men not in their twenties and men who weren't twenty years her junior was when having sex with his friends and their neighbors.

As if she went out of her way to get even with him for some unknown sexual transgression against her, when she was just as responsible for sexually transgressing against him, she was a vengeful cunt. With her a cheating wife, he was her cuckold husband whether he liked it or not. With him closing his eyes to her infidelities for the sake of his own sexual affairs, he non-verbally agreed to continue living this joke of a marriage. Aside from him having sex with his students and co-workers, at least he didn't have sex with his wife's friends and their neighbors.

* * * * *

With Jay a college professor and with them living in a college town, Ruth was a sexy shark in a fish tank packed full of young, available men. Swimming up from the bottom to capture one in her hand, in her mouth, and in her pussy to take home with her for sex, she had her pick of horny, willing men wanting to have sex with an older woman. What twenty-something-year-old man wouldn't want to have sex with some sexy and attractive forty-something-year-old woman? Living life with her was okay as long as he didn't mention the obvious elephants in the room, the men who had been in his bed, on his couch, or on his living room carpet while having sex with his wife.

Then, later, as president of a large Fortune 500 electronics company, Jay traveled the United States and world having affairs with prostitutes and escorts while his wife had affairs with young, male, college students that she picked up at the mall. From all around the country, to Europe, and Japan, as if he was a sailor with a woman in every port, Jay had sex with willing women wherever he traveled. With him having the pick of every female litter, he had the money to sexually indulge himself with whatever decadence that piqued his sexual peccadillo at the time. Everything was copacetic as long as neither one of them rocked the boat by accusing one or the other for this and for that.

Allowing him access to her shapely body in the backseat of his car before they were married, she was more sexually accommodating then, horny and sexually passionate even. Maybe because he was younger, 20-years-old back then, she was more sexually attracted to him. Then, seemingly still an upsetting mystery to him even now, thirty years later, it was a magical transformation when he put a ring on her finger and he said, "I do." Not long later, when in bed in their bedroom and expecting her to give him sex, she said, "I won't."

Those two words, "I do," turned off the switch to Jay's sexual life and turned on the switch to Ruth's cash machine at the bank. Jay marrying Ruth was the beginning of the end of their sexual relationship, especially after she became pregnant with their daughter. Her giving birth to a child sealed the divorce settlement deal, should it ever come to that, and ended Jay's sexual life with Ruth. With both of them addicted to sex, those two words, "I won't," opened the floodgates for the both of them to have numerous, extramarital affairs.

As if she had branded him as her man, now she owned his ass and he was stuck with her. He could have divorced her but at a time he was building his career, divorce was frowned upon back then. This was still puritanical America with the Bible belt beating their moral drum and even though everyone had their dirty, little secrets, no one publically laundered their laundry then in the way they do today. Besides, whatever monetary assets he had amassed in working long hours teaching and/or as a businessman traveling the globe would be divided equally with his drunken, whore of a wife. Not fair and not right, it was as if she had preplanned the whole thing, she never did anything to help his career along so why should she reap the benefits of his hard work? Controlled by sex and blinded by lust in what he thought was love, he never saw this shrewd, sexy minx coming.

As the marriage soured over the years, with him suspecting her of having sexual affairs, he should have divorced her but he couldn't leave his daughter. Seemingly her preferred sexual peccadillo for the sake of getting her booze, Ruth was stuck in a time, warp zone of only wanting to have sex with men in their twenties. With their married life just beginning, their sexual life was slowly coming to an end before coming to an abrupt halt when he turned 30-years-old. With their love for one another already long dead by then and stinking up their marriage, they didn't bury for another 20 years. Ignoring the smell, they just left it there to rot until Jay finally decided to do something about it by divorcing Ruth.

To be continued...

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Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #06



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I dedicate this story to Walter from Southern California.

*

With her sexy body her fishing bait, the mall was her fishing hole for her to find young men to bring home for sex.

Ruth loved wearing her high heels with her short skirts that showed off her long, shapely legs. As if she was a mature, runway, fashion model, looking at herself out of the corner of her eye as she passed by, she enjoyed seeing her reflection in the store windows. When she saw herself through her own reflection, liking what she saw, she enjoyed thinking that this is how men saw her.

In the way that a spy notices everything in a reflection of his sunglasses, she used her compact mirror and the reflections from storefront windows as her way to see if anyone was following her. As soon as a man had taken interest in her, ready to go fishing, she cast out her hook, line, and sinker. Now with a man of interest following her, it was time for her to play her role as the oblivious, mature woman so preoccupied with shopping that she wasn't aware that she was flashing her underwear to anyone. Once he was hooked on her line, continuing playing her game of flashing, teasing, and enticing, she continued to reel him in all the way to her house.

Acting unaware, she was aware of men watching her when she leaned her torso forward to peer in the glass tops of the display cases. Having rehearsed all of her flashing movements in her bedroom mirror, she always had a reason for doing all that she did. Making sure that she leaned low enough and at just the right moment, she enjoyed wearing her low cut blouses that moved lower with her to show the tops of her breasts, her sexy bra, and her long line of cleavage. Her curvaceous underwear clad body was her man bait and the mall was her fishing pond for finding horny, young men interested in having sex with her.

Whether giving men down blouse views of her cleavage and bra or giving them up skirt peeks of her panties, she knew she wouldn't be leaving the mall without a young man who wasn't sexually interested in her. With her living in a college town filled with horny, young men, it was so easy for her to cast out her fishing line and hook a young one. As she had with so very many others, she met Chris at the mall. Young and dumb, he was filled with enough cum to satisfy any horny, older woman.

She teased Christopher by flashing him her shapely body to keep him sexually interested in her. It's not always an easy thing to do for an older woman to maintain the sexual interest of a much younger man. Yet, a win/win proposition for both, she enjoyed flashing him as much as he seemingly enjoyed being flashed.

Flashing him is how she met him and brought him home from the mall with her. Continuing to sexually tease him by flashing him is how she maintained his interest in her long enough to get him to go home with her. With Chris a voyeur and her an exhibitionist, deliberately flashing him her panties at the food court in the mall, while making her up skirt flashes appear accidental, is how she initially sexually attracted him to meet her. If only by his leering stare, she could obviously tell that he enjoyed seeing her panties as much as she enjoyed flashing her panties.

* * * * *

Maybe because she was good looking and had the sexy body to match but it wasn't always easy for her to tempt the interest of a young man enough to stop at the liquor store to buy her booze before going home with her. As if window shopping at the mall in the way that women do, but shopping for women instead of shopping for clothes, most young men look to see what they can see when at the mall. Most young men want young women, women their own age. Most young men are looking for a girlfriend and a long term relationship without the complications of an angry, jealous husband. Yet, most times, those men attracted to older women are looking to have sex with their mothers and even a role playing, surrogate mother will do.

Quite sexually experienced with picking up and seducing men, Ruth had a knack for spotting the young men who were looking for more than just sex. She had a knack for finding young men whose sexual fantasy was to have sex with their mothers. More than anyone who wasn't interested in having sex with their mother would think, there are lots of men whose sexual fantasy is to have sex with their mothers. Once again, a win/win sexual proposition for both, as long as they plied her with alcohol, she didn't mind playing the part of their surrogate mother.

"After you fix me a martini with two olives, you may call me Mommy, feel my tits, and finger my nipples while I suck your cock," she routinely said to young men who she knew were interested in playing such an incestuous game.

* * * * *

Once she noticed him looking and once she noticed that he was interested in seeing more flashes of her panties, she was ready to continue giving him a sexy between her legs flashing show of her panty clad pussy. As soon as he gave her the eye, she returned his look of interest with her sexy, come hither look. A sexy game she enjoyed playing, just as she knew she had him hooked, she knew he'd be following her. With him hanging back and staring at her through the storefront window, she walked around the corner and ducked in a women's shoe store. Without even having to turn around to look, she knew he'd be standing there watching her. Planning to give him a another sexy show of her panties, she picked out a pair of boots a size too small while knowing that he'd be watching her struggle to fit her foot inside a boot too tight.

Acting as if she didn't know he was there watching her while struggling to fit her foot in the boot, she sat across from the window trying on the boots. With her short skirt rising higher and higher with her every sudden movement of her shapely legs, she crossed, uncrossed, and crossed her legs again and again while trying to fit the size 8 boot on her foot size 9 foot. Then, in a desperately exaggerated move to fit her foot in the boot, and with her skirt plenty high enough, she spread her knees wider and raised her leg higher than necessary to show him even more of her blue, bikini panties. Now that he was already hooked on her fishing line, she just needed to reel him in a little more. As if he was a homeless puppy looking for a place to sleep, she just needed to leave a trail for him to track and for him to follow her home.

Somehow able to hide her proclivity to expose herself by flashing unsuspecting men her sexy, underwear clad body, even her husband of 25-years never suspected that his wife was such an exhibitionist. He had no idea that Ruth enjoyed flashing men her underwear and her topless or naked body. Perhaps had he known she enjoyed flashing her underwear and if she knew he was a voyeur who had a keen interest in being sexually aroused by teasing him and by flashing him, they may have produced a sexual flame bright enough to keep them faithfully married.

With them both addicted to sex, instead of having separate, secret sexual affairs with others, they appeared to be the perfect couple for participating in the swinging lifestyle. Only, the swinging lifestyle was more hushed and whispered about back then than it is more out in the open and publically accepted now. Yet, seemingly, it was more fun for her to flash men she didn't know, especially younger men who were nearly half her age, than it was to flash her husband. A flashing game she enjoyed playing with her husband before they were married, she no longer played with him now. With him no longer sexually interested in her in the way that she was no longer sexually interested in him, no longer did she tease him while trying to seduce him. She had much younger fish to catch and to fry.

Just as she couldn't come close to how many men she's had sex with, she couldn't even come close to counting how many men she's flashed. Easily, she's flashed her pastel, bikini panties, her low cut, front snapping bra, her tits with brown areolas and gumdrop sized nipples, her bushy, brown pussy, and her shapely ass to thousands of men over the years. She had sexually teased a vast army of men. Unashamed to admit it, she was too addicted to flashing her underwear clad, topless, and naked body to young men for her to discontinue erotically enticing and sexually teasing young men. Only, unlike other women who purposely teased men to sexual frustrate them to the point of experiencing blue balls, whomever she chose to tease, as long as they supplied the alcohol, she was ready and willing to give them hot sex.

* * * * *

With her living in a college town, she had an unlimited supply of fresh meat of horny, young victims. Actually, any young man who came to her front door whenever her husband wasn't home, especially when he was away traveling on business, was an unsuspecting participant in her sexy flashing game of voyeurism and exhibitionism. If only Jay knew the sexy naked show that his wife, Ruth, gave men, he'd be as shocked as much as he'd be pissed and, no doubt, sexually aroused. If only Jay knew that Ruth enjoyed flashing her sheer nightgown or sexy underwear clad body and/or her topless and/or her naked body, maybe he could have helped her flash unsuspecting men as a team. Only, with Ruth playing the faithful wife in the beginning of their marriage, even though Jay knew better, they never played any of the sexy games that some loving couples play.

Whenever Jay wasn't home, she had all kinds of sexy games to play to attract young men to sexually entertain her with a few drinks before giving him hot sex. Whenever Jay wasn't home, she'd answer the front door in her sheer, short, low cut, sexy nightgown with nothing underneath and without the modesty of wearing a bathrobe. Not shy, modest, ashamed, or embarrassed, she enjoyed showing unsuspecting men all they hoped to see of her shapely body. Whenever Jay was away traveling on business, she'd answer the door in her bra and panty, topless, or naked. Sometimes, acting as if she just got out of the shower, she'd make her flashing appear accidental by deliberately dropping her towel. 

"Oops. Oh, my God. I'm so embarrassed," she'd say putting her hands to her mouth instead of covering her tits and pussy with them. "Please don't look at my naked tits, ass, and pussy," she'd say as her way of teasing them to look, leer, stare, and ogle her naked body whenever her towel fell as low as her morals and modesty.

With each man giving her a different reaction, seemingly they all believed that they were at the right place in the right time instead of suspecting that this flashing was all prearranged and deliberate. Yet, as with any man who saw her topless and/or naked, all men wanted more than just seeing her tits, her ass, and her pussy. Unless they were gay, all men who saw her in all manner of undress wanted sex. Any man who saw what he shouldn't have seen of her wanted to have sex with her. As long as they were willing to buy her booze, she was willing to give them sex. Mostly about the booze to her, it was all about the sex to them.

If only her husband knew she had flashed the mailman, the UPS man, the FedEx man, and the pizza and Chinese food delivery man, what would he say? If only her husband knew she had flashed men wanting her to sign their petitions, realtors wanting to buy their house, and door-to-door salesmen wanting to sell them things. What would he think? 

If only her husband knew she had sex with the mailman, the UPS man, the FedEx man, and the pizza and Chinese food delivery men, along with men wanting her to sign their petitions, realtors, and a door-to-door salesmen, wouldn't he be surprised. Wouldn't he be shocked that his wife of 25 years was just as sexually active with male strangers as he was sexually active with young, college coeds, female prostitutes, and sexy escorts? If instead of just suspecting that Ruth was a drunken whore, how would he react to her having sex with every man who came to her front door.

Only, with neither one having proof, just as his wife suspected that he was whoring around, he suspected that his wife was whoring around too. With neither of them wanting to know the details of their sex trysts, they were content continuing to do their own sexual thing. Seemingly the perfect marriage, while she had sex with a multitude of young men from meeting them at the mall, he had sex with a multitude of young women from meeting them all over the country and all over the world.

* * * * *

Not shy, ashamed, or embarrassed about showing men all that they wanted to see, flashing men sexually aroused her as much as it obviously sexually excited them. Once she noticed him looking and once she noticed that he was interested in seeing more of her than just her panties, she was ready to continue giving him a sexy flashing show of her entire naked body. After flashing this young admirer her panties at the food court and again at the shoe store, with him in tow and tagging along at a safe distance behind her, she was ready to show him even more. With her ready to make his sexual fantasy come true, obviously, he had no idea that she was about to show him all that he had hoped to see of her naked body.

She rode the escalator up to the second floor in readiness to give him a real show of exhibitionism. Not wanting him to leave in the middle of her flashing show, she needed to continue sexually teasing him again so that he'd continue following her. Then, culminating in her giving him the real naked, flashing show, she needed to continue sexually enticing him so that he'd come home with her. With her climbing his escalator of sexual interest higher, when she was high enough and he was low enough on the stairs, she bent at the waist on the pretense of fixing her shoe. 

"Holy shit," she heard him involuntarily utter under his breath.

She stayed in that position fiddling with her shoe longer than necessary. Having practiced this sexy, flashing move in her bedroom mirror many times before while standing on a stool, she knew she was giving him a good in between her thighs look of her panty clad ass and pussy. As if she was smuggling a small, brown, furry animal in her panties, hopefully he liked women with bushy pussies as he could definitely see her brown bush peeking out the sides of her panties. If he had doubts of wanting to have sex with her before, after already seeing so much of her underwear clad body, surely he wasn't having any doubts about wanting to have sex with her now. 

Her next stop was the only women's clothing store in the mall that still had curtains on their dressing rooms. Every other women's clothing store had those damn, dreaded, privacy doors. Without making it appear obvious by leaving the dressing room door open, it was impossible to deliberately flash unsuspecting men when standing behind and hidden from view by dressing room doors. She could leave the dressing room in all manner of undress to look at herself in the mirrors outside of the dressing room, but that would draw the attention of the sales staff and even security. Besides, she wasn't free to flash unsuspecting men all that she wanted to flash with dressing room doors in the way that she could flash unsuspecting men with dressing room curtains.

As if she had hooked a young fish on her sexy line of exhibitionism, with her using a curtained dressing room, she'd soon be showing him all that she hoped he wanted see. Having done this type of flashing many times before, she picked a couple of specific clothing items from the rack to help her in exposing herself. She picked out a sweater a size too small and a pair of pants a size too tight. The real show of exhibitionism began not when she was undressing to try on clothes but when she was removing those too tight clothes that she picked to model.

Heading off to the dressing room, she closed the dressing room curtain not all the way but just enough not to be too obvious in her flashing intention. With her having practiced this curtain closing move dozens of times before, not an easy thing to master, in one quick motion, she waved a well-practiced hand to slide the curtain across the rod. She deliberately left room enough for him to watch her through the opening at the end of the mostly closed curtain and through her reflection in the mirror.

She didn't want to make herself appear too obvious and to make him think that she's an exhibitionist and a slut, even though she was. She didn't want him to think that she was interested in seducing him, even though she was. A game she enjoyed playing, it sexually excited her to show him her semi-naked and naked body as much as she imagined it sexually excited him to see her semi-naked and naked body. Should she be caught by security flashing him, wanting to make her flashing appear accidental, she wanted to put the onus on him for peeping on her and not the onus on her for deliberately flashing him.

'Oh, my God,' she imagined saying should she be caught flashing him by security or by the sales staff. 'I had no idea my curtain was open enough for him to see me undressing. I had no idea a pervert was peeping on me changing. Preoccupied with my potential purchases, I thought the curtain was closed all the way,' she imagined saying in her innocent defense to security or to the sales staff. 'God, I'm so embarrassed.'

Flashing him her blue, bra-clad breasts and sexy cleavage, giving him a slow striptease show, she took her sweet time in unbuttoning and removing her blouse to try on her too tight sweater. Then, struggling to fit the too tight sweater over her big tits, she knew as soon as she tried to remove the snug sweater that she'd deliberately lift her blue bra along with the sweater to expose her naked breasts to him. Now that the sweater was tightly on over her bra-clad breasts, turning one way before turning the other, she looked disapprovingly at herself in the mirror. Acting preoccupied and oblivious to him standing there ogling her trying on clothes, she made a sour face, along with her body movements of her arms and her shoulders to show that the sweater was too small. 

Not wanting him to get away, not wanting him to leave, and not wanting to lose him, she needed to keep him interested enough to want to see more of her. With her ready to show him plenty, she reached her hands down to grab the bottom of the sweater and started lifting it off her shapely body. Up, up, and up, she slowly lifted the sweater higher and higher. Just as she knew would happen, with her fingertips hidden by the material of the sweater, she discreetly slid her fingers beneath the bottom of her bra and lifted her brassiere while removing the sweater.

Lifting the sweater up, up, and up higher, along with her bra cups, she slowly pulled up the sweater until it was bunched up and caught beneath her chin. With her arms helplessly in the air, with her naked breasts totally exposed, and with her not making any attempt to pull down her bra, she continued lifting the sweater higher until it covered her face. With her struggling to free herself from the sweater, she flayed her arms and bounced her tits. Now that the sweater blocked her view of him, he was free to ogle her naked breasts through the dressing room mirror without embarrassment or feeling that he was peeping, when he was. Only, with her as much of a voyeur as she was an exhibitionist, she could see him leering at her through the stitches in the sweater but he couldn't see her watching his reaction to seeing her tits.

'Oops,' she thought while lifting her bra to deliberately expose her shapely breasts, her areolas, and her nipples to him. If this move of exhibitionism wasn't enough to make him sexually want her, the next move she had planned, no doubt would pique his sexual interest in her even more. Now that he's seen her tits, she couldn't wait for him to see her naked ass and bushy, brown pussy.




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #06



With her tits now totally exposed for a prolonged period of time, she was giving him a real show. Trying to extricate herself from the tight confines of the too small sweater, with her ample breasts bouncing one way and swaying the other, she danced around the dressing room while slowly trying to remove the too small sweater. Then, finally freeing her head from the sweater, she was more concerned with her mussed hair than she was with her still naked breasts. Giving him a good, long look of her tits before pulling down her bra, she fluffed her hair back in place with a practice hand while looking at herself in the mirror.

To the hopeful sexual pleasure of him, sexually teasing him and erotically exciting him, she continued playing her sexy game of exhibitionism and voyeurism. Pretending not to notice him, she pretended she had no idea that her dressing room curtain was open enough for him to see. Even though she was standing there topless, acting obvious to her wardrobe malfunction, she pretended that she didn't realize that she was as exposed to him as much as she was.

As if getting ready to give herself an impromptu breast exam, she looked down at her breasts, her areolas, and her nipples to see all that he saw of her. Not looking his way but able to see his reflection behind her in the mirror, she acted as if she didn't even know he was there peeping. Show over but not quite, she still had more flashing to do. Hoping he'd stay there for the rest of the sexy flashing show and not be scared away by other customers, the sales staff, or by security, she didn't look his way while pulling her bra cups down over her breasts. 

As she shocked every other man she tried this practiced, flashing technique with, she was sexually excited to flash this young man her naked tits. Flashing her breasts to a man who was interested in seeing her tits made her feel younger, sexy, vibrant, and vital. Proud of her shapely breasts, one of her favorite flashes to do, she loved flashing her large B cup, small C cup tits. Just as this wasn't the first time she flashed her tits to unsuspecting men, this wouldn't be the last time that she'd be flashing her tits to unsuspecting men either.

No man, who made it this far with her flashing them, has ever refused going home with her for sex. No man, whether young or old, diverted his eyes from staring at her naked breasts while ogling her sexy topless or bottomless body. As if she was a stripper giving them a live on stage, sex show and, indeed, she was, shocking them in a sexy game she loved playing, she loved exposing her semi-naked body to unsuspecting men. It sexually aroused her to see the looks of sexual excitement on their faces when seeing so much of her shapely body that they never expected to see.

Exposing herself made her feel in control of men. Exposing herself made her feel powerful. Exposing herself made her feel sexually wanted and desired. If it wasn't enough that she was always flashing her bra, cleavage, and panty at the mall, she loved seeing the reactions of men to suddenly seeing her naked breasts, her naked pussy, and/or her naked ass when watching her in the dressing room.

Knowing he was still standing there watching her and staring at her, as if she was making a movie with the camera focused on her and with his eyes the camera lens, she didn't dare look his way. Next, dressed in only her sexy blue bra and slacks, she took her time looking at her potential pants purchase. Finally, she was ready to try on the too tight pants. Unbuttoning, and unzipping her pants, she exposed her blue, bikini panties to him while removing her slacks to try on the pants.

Standing there in her blue, bikini panties and her matching blue bra, she looked at the pants she was about to try on to see if they fit. Unable to zip her pants, even after sucking in her tummy, she turned one way before turning the other way and while showing an unhappy look on her face. If she was an actress, she'd be nominated for an Academy Award. If she was an actress, she'd be looking forward to doing her next scene, a nude scene.

Then, when she slid the too tight pants down her body, just as she did with her bra, with her fingers hidden within the material of the panties, she discreetly tucked her fingers in her panties. Down, down, and down, she slid her panties down with the pants too. Slowly and deliberately, she exposed her brown, bushy pussy and her round, firm, naked ass to him.

'Oops!'

She only wished she could stare at him in the way he was no doubt staring at her. She only wished she could see more of his reaction to seeing her topless before seeing her bottomless. She only wished she could turn to face him and make eye contact with him while stripping off her clothes. Only, her eyes wouldn't be what he'd be staring at if she turned to stand before him naked.

She tried to kick herself out of her pants and entangled herself even more. Nearly falling over when she raised her leg high enough to deliberately expose more of her glistening wet while extricating herself from the pants, pink pussy to him, she acted oblivious to her bottomless nudity. Then, as if shocked by her sudden nudity, feigning embarrassment if only to herself, she stood there with her panties and pants down around her ankles while staring at her naked pussy in the mirror. She had successfully done this flashing routine in this very clothing store dozens of times with dozens of different young men before. With him still standing there leering at her, she knew that not only could he see her naked ass through the open curtain but also that he could see her naked, hairy, brown, bushy pussy through her reflection in the full length mirror.

Then, still not done yet, bending fully at the waist, to hoist up her panties on the pretense of recovering her feigned modesty, as if bending to be taken doggie style, she flashed him her naked ass and pussy. In just two seemingly innocuous flashes, she showed him her tits, her areolas, her nipples, her hairy pussy, and her naked ass. In just a few minutes of trying on a too snug sweater and pants that were too tight, she flashed him the entirety of her naked body. With her bending at the waist, as if he was her proctologist getting ready to examine her with his finger, she gave him a good view of her ass. With her bending at the waist, as if he was her gynecologist about to probe her pussy with his medical instrument, she gave him a good view of her pussy.

No man has ever refused her not so subtle, albeit seemingly accidental, naked, flashing invitation of going home with her for sex. With him still standing there watching her, she knew that he'd be leaving the store and the mall with her. She had him now to do whatever she wanted to do with his sexy, young, hard body.

Then, with him following out of the store, once she was walking towards her car, is when he approached her and when they all approached her.

"Hi," he said. "You remind me of someone I used to know."

With him already having his number, ho doubt she reminded him of his mother.

"I do?"

He gave her the eye and she returned his look with a smile.

"Would you like to go for a cup of coffee? There's a restaurant across the way," he said.

She gave him a sexy look.

"I'd much rather go for a drink. There's a liquor store a mile from here. You can follow me in your car and we can have a drink at my place while you tell me who you think it is that I look like," she said with a little sexy laugh.

He looked stunned by her accepting his invitation. He appeared sexually excited that she'd rather take him home for a drink than to have a cup of coffee at a public restaurant. He could have been anyone. He could have been a serial killer but with her being no one's victim, she had a good sense of men. She could tell that he was more about having sex with her than in doing anything violent with her.

To be continued...



Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #07



Please vote. Please give me the support of your vote.

I dedicate this story to Walter from Southern California.

*

45-year-old Ruth picks up 25-year-old Chris at the mall.

"Here you are doll," said Chris leaning down to give Ruth a smooch before handing her another Martini.

Christopher handed Ruth her drink. She took a sip and put the drink on a coaster beside her on the side table next to the couch. With him standing in front of her while she was sitting on the couch, she wrapped her hands around his ass, pulled him to her, and kissed the bulging impression in his jeans while staring up at him. Then, a sexy game she liked playing, she held out her arms as if Chris was her long lost son and she was his not so innocent, incestuous mother.

With Ruth 45-years-old and with Chris 25-years-old, they could have been mother and son. Only, they weren't mother and son or even aunt and nephew. They weren't even related and Ruth's sexual relationship wasn't incestuous just extramarital. He was just another man in a long line of young lovers who preferred having sex with older women. With her sharing the reverse order of his sexual preference, she was an older woman who preferred having sex with younger men. What worked for him, worked for her too.

With absolutely nothing in common between them other than enjoying one another's company while having a few drinks, sharing some laughs, and having a good, sexual time, he was just another young lover to her with money enough to buy her booze. No doubt, she was just another older woman to him who'd willingly give him sex for a bottle of gin and a bottle of vermouth. They were strangers who met at the mall and who had become passionate lovers. There together for a moment in time until they moved on to someone else, they were strangers who filled their lonely, empty lives with sex, laughter, and drunkenness.

Fishing for men while flashing men, Ruth used her God given femininity and sexuality to catch a nibble, a bite, and hopefully a lick, a suck, and a fuck. Her well tested and successfully proven way of first attracting a man's interest to her was by sitting open legged at the food court with her skirt raised past mid-thigh. As if she was Moses parting the Red Sea with a wave of his holy hand, Ruth parted the food court with the spread of her unholy knees. With the food court usually crowded, especially in the middle section, men moved their seats to the far side for a better between her legs view of her. She created quite the ruckus of chairs sliding across the tile floor while horny men jockeyed for the best position to see all that she was showing. Pretending that she didn't know she was so exposed and was the focused attention of so many horny and sexually interested men, Ruth deliberately and unmercifully flashed dozens of men her panties while eating her sandwich.

Giving them a real panty show, she acted oblivious to the stares of those men who ogled her panties while she sat there with her knees parted. Then when she realized that one man in particular stared harder and stayed longer for the view she was giving him, she finished her lunch and stood up to leave. Wiggling her tight, shapely ass while sashaying by him while reeling him in hook, line, and sinker, he had already passed the first part of her seduction test by staring between her legs at her panties. Now she hoped he'd follow her where she needed to take him for more of her show of voyeurism and exhibitionism. Then, when she caught his reflection behind her in the store window, she was happy that he had taken her bait and was walking a few paces behind her.

Motivating him to stay for more of her sexy show, she flashed him her panties again while she was in the shoe store trying on boots a size too small. She enticed him to further follow her through the mall by taking the escalator up to the second level. Knowing he was a few steps behind her and knowing she'd be flashing him an even better view of her panties, she bent at the waist on the escalator on the pretense of fixing her shoe. Her short skirt climbed higher as she bent further forward and as he moved up the escalator with her while behind her.

Acting as if she didn't know that he could see up her short skirt from his lower vantage point on the escalator, she remained in that bent at the waist position longer than necessary. Wanting to give him a good look of her panty clad pussy, this was her well-practiced flashing move that commanded the sexual interest of all men. She knew that if he made it this far, he'd be following her wherever she wanted him to go. Chances were good that if he made it this far, he'd be coming home with her for some sexy, role playing games and some hot sex.

Her ultimate flashing place and where she wanted him to go with her was to the women's clothing store. The culmination of her flashing him peeks of what he shouldn't see of another man's woman, a married woman, began and ended at the only clothing store in the mall that still had curtains on the dressing rooms. That clothing store was her favorite place to go when exposing herself to a young man she hoped would follow her home. Once she was inside the store, using the mirrors to monitor him throughout the store, she knew he'd be there watching her and peeping on her as soon as she walked behind the dressing room curtain.

As she did with all young men, leaving the curtain partially open, she gave him a show of voyeurism and exhibitionism that he'd never forget. As if she was a stripper performing onstage, unbeknownst to her husband, Ruth was an exhibitionist. While pretending she didn't know they could see as much of her as she wanted them to see, she loved showing men bits and pieces of her underwear clad body. While showing young men all that she wanted them to see of her, she loved sexually teasing and erotically enticing men.

As if he was already her lover, she enjoyed stripping off her clothes for her audience of a select, young man who interested her and who was obviously attracted enough to her to follow her this far. Sexually teasing him by undressing in front of him, she pretended she didn't know her dressing room curtain was open enough for him to see her in all manner of undress. A sexy game she loved playing, she acted as if she was unaware that anyone was peeping on her.

With the dressing room curtain safeguarding her feigned modesty while undressing, she loved showing men she didn't even know and had yet to meet, her bra clad breasts and even her naked breasts. She loved showing men she didn't even know and had yet to meet, her panty clad ass and pussy, and even her naked ass and pussy. No man had ever gone this far in her voyeuristic and exhibitionistic, sexual seduction of him and not approached her before she got in her car and drove away. No man who was attracted to an older woman would ever let her get away without trying to put the moves on her and have sex with her. With men so oblivious to the games that women play, if only they knew that she was the one putting the moves on them, wouldn't they be surprised? 

In the way she waited for all of the other men to make their sexual moves, she fumbled through her purse on the pretense of looking for her car keys while waiting for him to approach her. Always they did. When he finally approached her in the parking lot, not shy in her sexual seduction of him, she invited him home. Her extramarital dalliance was a win/win sexual proposition for both. He was going to have sex with a woman old enough to be his mother and she was going to have sex with a man young enough to be her son.

Filled with alcohol and garnished with two olives, her Martinis wouldn't be the only intoxicating thing on her sexual menu. Adorned by a man's hard, hairy cock and two dangling testicles in her hand, in her mouth, and in her pussy, she'd be intoxicated with sex. If only this young men knew what he was in for, he'd hang around the mall every day trying to score with older women, women who were old enough to be his mother. With older women more willing to give it up, if only he knew that many older women were more sexual than many younger women. With that truth in mind, unless he was ready to settle down and get married, he'd never approach another younger woman again.

Ruth was Jay's wife, the woman of another man, and Chris was just a neighborhood young man who enjoyed meeting, picking up, and having casual, sexual affairs with married, older women he met at the mall. At the right place and the right time, he just happened to be at the mall with her that day. With their daughter, Kim, gone for the weekend with friends, Ruth was free to sexually entertain Chris. With Jay not expected home from his business trip to Japan until late tomorrow night, Ruth had the whole house to herself to romantically, sexually, and seductively entertain her special, young man.

Obviously with the alcohol flowing freely and with her dressed in a sexy, short skirt, low cut blouse, bikini panties, and front snapping bra, she was his for the taking. Besides, he had already seen most of her shapely figure with her flashing her nearly naked body behind her partially closed dressing room curtain at the mall. Moreover, not the first time they've sexually been together, seemingly Ruth had grown a sudden and special fondness for Chris. Actually, with Ruth a drunk and a whore, she had a particular fondness for any young man who had a big, hard, hairy prick, especially a man who plied her with gin and vermouth.

She particularly like Christopher because he was good looking and was politely good natured with a fun sense of humor, something she thought her husband lacked. Her husband, a physical chemist, a university professor, and now a top executive of a Fortune 500 company was much too serious for her. Seemingly he had matured and grown older while she remained the same psychologically immature age that she was twenty years ago. With her brain pickled in alcohol that stunted her maturity, even though she was 45-years-old chronologically, in her mind, she still felt as if she was 25-years-old.

With her so very sexually attracted to young men, if she had a son, she'd want him to be just like Christopher. If she had a son, she probably would have had sex with him in the way she was about to have sex with Chris now. If she had a son, perhaps she'd be having sex with him instead of going to the mall looking for young men. If she had a son, she would have sexually and incestuously molested him in the way her brothers sexually and incestuously molested her.

Too busy with his work, traveling, and making money, according to Ruth, her husband was no fun. According to Ruth, Jay had turned into a fuddy-duddy and an old man. He didn't even drink anymore. No doubt with him thinking that she's a drunk, which she is, and a whore, which she is that too, he seldom even talked to her. They no longer shared the physical, emotional, and sexual excitement they once had and that inflamed their relationship when they were dating and before they were married. Now married too long in a bad marriage, instead of continuing this lunacy, they should have called it quits and divorced years ago.

* * * * *

"Let's play a game," she said looking at Chris with sexual enthusiasm while covering the couch with a sheet.

As if he was too old and too horny for games, not even asking what the game was and giving the game a chance, Chris made a disinterested face. When he was about to have sex with her, the last thing that he wanted do was to play a silly game but Ruth enjoyed playing games. With her having had sex with so very many young men, she needed to play her sexy games of pretend incest to maintain her sexual interest. She needed something a little more than just a young body and a hard cock. Never enlisting her husband in her games of role playing and pretend, she saved all of her games and game playing for her young lovers.

"A game? What kind of game? Sex is the only game that I want to play," he said reaching out his horny hands to grope her ample breast through her blouse and finger her big nipples through her bra.

He continued feeling her breasts through her bra while coaxing her brown, gumdrop sized nipples to make their appearance with their hard impressions. She allowed him to feel her breast through her clothes but, not wanting him to prematurely ruin her game of debauchery and her incestuous fun of pretend, she wasn't ready to have sex with him just yet. With her having sex with so very many different young men over the years, having sex for the sake of getting her fix of alcohol and for the sake of having sex sometimes grew boring. Playing a sexy game maintained her sexual interest. Playing a sexy game with a hot, young man made her feel wanted, needed, and sexually desired. She needed the emotional and sexual excitement along with the erotic detachment of her current marital situation by pretending that she was his mother and he was her son.

Seemingly an easy thing for her to do, she had a knack for finding young men who sexually fantasized of having sex with their mothers. As if she was his mother and he was her son, she slapped his hands away from her breasts. With her not yet ready to be taken but wanting to be slowly, savagely, and seductively seduced, she wanted this night to be special. She wanted this night to be as romantic as it was sexual and as forbidden as it was erotic.

With this was her last weekend alone before her husband returned home late Sunday evening, not wanting to rush anything, she wanted to take this sexual seduction slow. She wanted to give herself something to masturbate over later. She wanted to take the memory of Chris to bed with her later when her husband was home and asleep and snoring beside her. She needed the sexual memory of tonight to sustain her until she hunted the mall for another sexually interest, young man.

"Stop. You're going too fast. You're going to ruin my game," she said with impatient annoyance.

For the sake of her giving him hot sex, he shrugged his indifference before nodding his agreement.

"Okay, I'm game," he said. "I'll behave. What's the game you'd like to play?"

As if she was the cat who just ate the canary, she took another sip of her drink before giving him a look of sexual excitement. Then, giving him a Cheshire catlike grin, she took his hand in hers and kissed it. A game she liked to play was a sexy game that she hoped that he'd enjoy playing too. She's never had sex with a young man who didn't wish he was having sex with his mother. With her old enough to be his mother and him young enough to be her son, he wouldn't be here with her now, if he didn't sexually fantasize about having sex with his mother.

"Being that I didn't have a son but always wanted one," she said pausing to give him a sexy look. "I'd like to pretend that you're my son and I'm your mother. I like playing that sexy game of forbidden incest," she said giving him another sexy look. "Even if it's just a game of pretend and role playing, the thought of having forbidden, incestuous sex with the son I've never had has always appealed to me."

Seemingly having already grown bored with their sexual affairs, she had already progressed and successfully played this game of incestuous pretend with other young men Christopher's age before. Moreover, with him already confessing his sexual mother and son fantasies to her during their numerous sessions of pillow talk, she knew that he fantasized about having sex with a mother figure. She knew that he looked at her as if she was more than his lover but his mother.

"I wish you were my mother," he said with a sudden burst of amplified sexual excitement while reaching out to feel her breasts and finger her nipples through her clothes again.

She looked up at him before looking down at his hands touching her breasts and feeling her breasts while his fingers felt her nipples. As if he was her naughty, incestuous son, she took his hands in hers and moved them from her breasts to hold them in her lap. Containing him by confining his horny hands, she needed to scold him as if he was her son.

"You'd never disrespect your mother by groping her in such an incestuously, sexual, and inappropriate way, would you?"

She gave him a naughty look and he returned her look with his mischievous smile.

"If my mother looked anything like you, was as sexy as you, and sucked cock as good as you do, fuck yeah, I'd be feeling my mother's tits. I'd be groping my mother and having sex with her every day," he said giving her a sexy look. "I wish you were my mother, Ruth," he said again.

She laughed while returning his sexy look. Seemingly he was enjoying playing this sexy game of imagined incest.

"Well, I'm not your mother but we can pretend that I am. We're not even related but we can pretend that we are," she said with a dirty laugh. "Yet, I'm talking about you groping your real mother. Before being sexually intimate with your mother, even your pretend mother, you wouldn't disrespect your mother by feeling her tits and fingering her nipples through her clothes, now would you?"

He looked at her as if she was nuts until a glimmer of sexual excitement flashed across his face. In the way she hooked him on her fishing line in the mall with her flashing him her underwear and parts of her naked body, she hooked him again now by the prospect of playing an incestuous, sexual game. How many women would allow another woman in their bed and in their head, especially a man's mother, even if that other woman was nothing more than a figment of their imagination and just a role playing, pretend mother?

"My mother? You're right. I'd never grope my mother. Eww, gross," he said with a laugh. "My mother looks nothing like you. She's short, fat, and homely. If my mother looked anything like you, tall, shapely, and pretty I would have tried to have sex with her long ago," he said with a dirty laugh.

She looked at him with as much sexual lust as he looked at her with sexual excitement. She knew by the bulge that grew in his jeans that he was thinking of her not only as his lover but also as his mother. With him not protesting in playing this particular sexy game, she knew that he wanted to play this pretend game of incest as much as she wanted to play this pretend game of incest. Just as she had piqued his sexual interest in her at the mall with her flashing him, now that they were in her house, in her living room, and on her couch, she had piqued his sexual interest in her again with her incestuous game.

"If I had a son who looked like you, I would have had sex with him long ago too," she said. "If I had a son who looked anything like you, I would have flashed him my underwear clad, topless, and/or naked body numerous times," she said with a dirty laugh. "If I had a son who looked like you, I'd make it my personal mission to see his cock, to touch his cock, to stroke his cock, to suck his cock, and to fuck his cock," she said feeling his erection through his jeans. 

Indeed, as if she was his mother and he was her son, she leaned into him to part his lips with her tongue. She gave him a long, wet kiss before he pulled away from her to speak. Obviously already sexually excited playing this pretend mother and son game, he stared at her before speaking.

"But you're not my mother and I'm not your son," said Chris with some attitude before showing his obvious disappointment.

Acting hesitant and a bit resistant to getting his head in the game, he seemed somewhat annoyed that she was pushing his sexual, incestuous buttons. Obviously Ruth had stumbled upon secret, uncharted, sexual ground. Maybe he does imagine having sex with his mother. Maybe he masturbates to the imagined images of seeing his mother naked and/or to the imagined images of his mother seeing him naked. Maybe he imagines that she's his mother. It's only normal for a son to be sexually attracted to his mother, no matter what his mother looks like, even if she's short, fat, and/or ugly and even if just playing a game of pretend. Every young man wants to have sex with his mother, even his surrogate mother, one time or another.




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #07



"That's where the game of pretend begins. You pretend that I'm your mother and I pretend you're my son. If I had a son who looked like you, I'd fuck and suck him every day," she said.

She leaned into him and kissed him again. He broke off her kiss to speak again and to show her that he agreed to play her game.

"I love you, Mommy," he said with a nervous laugh to obviously mask his incestuous excitement.

Taking her kiss as his cue that she wanted to have sex now, he returned her kiss while feeling her breasts through her blouse and fingering her nipples through her bra again. He couldn't help himself from feeling her tits and fingering her nipples through her clothes. She had a nice rack for an older woman. Something she denied her husband from feeling on the pretense that her nipples were always sore and sensitive, her nipples were never sore or sensitive for her young lovers to finger and suck. Seemingly as if he was kissing his mother instead of Ruth, he parted her lips and impaled her mouth with his tongue to give her a long, wet, passionate kiss.

"Stop. Wait," she said pushing back on his chest and slapping his hands away again. "Let's do this my way. I need to get in my role so that I can pretend that I'm your mother and you're my son," she said unbuttoning the top button of her blouse to expose more of her cleavage and low cut bra. 

As if she had just depressed his incestuous on button, staring from her brown eyes and pretty face to stare down at her cleavage and the top of her exposed bra, he looked at her with invigorated, sexual lust.

"Okay," he said making eye contact with her again. "That will be fun...Mom," he said with a dirty laugh. "Only how will you do this to make it feel real? Seriously, what mother willingly has sex with her son and what son would willingly seduce his mother?"

As if he had depressed her sexual on button too, she returned his look of sexual lust with her look of sexual lust.

"Actually, you'd be surprised," she said giving him a naughty look and a dirty laugh. "Just as lots of sons have sexually fantasized of having incestuous sex with their mothers one time or another, plenty of mothers have sexually fantasized of having incestuous sex with their sons too. It takes two," she said.

As if she was a social scientist who had conducted surveys in the area of mother and son sex, she gave him a knowing smile. He looked at her with as much curiosity as he looked at her with sexual excitement.

"That makes sense," said Chris. "In the way my mother sometimes looks at me, as if giving me the eye, I can see how she'd sexually want me. Yet, just because she sexually wants me or I may be horny enough to sexually want her, lusting over my mother is one thing but actually having sex with her is something else."

She obviously had his interest now.

"Just as there are as many mothers who have had sex with their sons, there are an equal number of sons who have had sex with their mothers," she said with a laugh. "We're all human. Whether we're male or female, we all have the same sexual wants, desires, and needs."

He gave her an insightful look.

"Wow," he said. "I never thought my mother would sexually want me in the way that I'm thinking of her sexually wanting me now."

With her able to control him with just her words and, of course, by the promise of sex, she gave him a knowing smile that he was now ready to play her game.

"The right place and the right time, any mother would willingly have sex with her son just as any son would willingly have sex with his mother. What may begin as comforting support may end up as sex," she said nodding her head. "Actually, as long as the sexual attraction is there, all that it takes if for one or the other or both to be drunk before they end up in bed together," she said with a laugh.

She looked at him while knowing that he was interested in playing her sexy, pretend game of mother and son sex.

"Still if this game is going to work, I need to know what my motivation is to have sex with you," he said as if he was an actor asking for direction and she was his director in charge of making this movie.

She thought while taking a sip of her drink. She held her Martini glass as if it was a movie prop.

"I'll pretend that I'm drunk, not a big stretch for me," she said with a laugh while raising her glass as if in toast before taking another sip of her drink. "I'll pretend that I'm asleep on the couch and you take sexual advantage of me.

He gave her a sexy smile.

"We can both pretend we're drunk," he said. "We can pretend that I came home sexually frustrated from a party and you came home drunk and horny after attending a CFNM affair," he said with a big smile on his face.

She looked at him with confusion.

"CFNM affair? What's that?"

He started chair dancing from his seated position on the couch as if he was a male stripper.

CFNM is short for clothed female and nude male. It's an all-male strip club for women.

Falling into the sexual fantasy, she looked at him as if he really was her son.

"That will work." she said with a laugh. "I'll pretend that I came home drunk, horny, and sexually frustrated. Then, with you thinking that you can take sexual advantage of me, your own mother, you make your incestuous move while I'm pretending to be asleep," she said with a dirty laugh. "While touching me and feeling me, you slowly start undressing me before kissing me," she said touching and feeling herself as if her hands were his hands.

Falling into the incestuous fantasy, he suddenly looked at her as if she really was his mother. 

"Okay," he said. "Actually that sounds like fun." He looked at her with lust. "I wish you really were my mother," he said again while sliding a slow finger along her lips. "Whether you were my pretend mother or my real mother, I'd love to have my mother suck my cock. I'd love to cum in my mother's mouth and watch her swallow my cum," he said giving her a sickly deranged look.

Ruth took Christopher's finger in her mouth and sucked it in the way that she'll soon be sucking his cock and in the way she would have sucked her son's cock if he were her son. She resisted when he tried to force her finger deeper in her mouth. As if he wanted her to deep throat his finger, she recoiled.

"Geez, Christopher," she said ejaculating his finger from her mouth with her tongue for her to speak. "You're really getting into this mother and son thing, aren't you? You probably really wish that I was your mother and you were my son," she said with a dirty laugh while wishing he really was her son. "Only, we haven't reached that point of me blowing you yet. Let's get in character first, shall we? You seduce me, your mother, as I'm sleeping on the couch drunk and I'll seduce you, my son, when I awaken."

As they talked, they drank. As they drank, they laughed. Then, they kissed, touched, and felt one another through their clothes. With Christopher forgetting about her game of role play and his incestuous, sexual fantasy of having pretend sex with his mother, he got more serious in lovemaking when he rested his hand on her leg.

In the way she sexually seduced him the first time she invited him home, she sexually seduced her now. He ever so slowly moved his fingers higher along her thigh until his fingertips were beneath the hem of her short skirt and only inches away from her panty clad pussy. With her a more than willing victim, she made no attempt to resist his sexual advances. As if she was a mother who wanted her son to fuck her, she made no attempt to remove his hand from beneath her short skirt and from her naked thigh.

"I love your big tits Mom," he said staring at her cleavage and at the top of her blue, low cut bra. Revealing more of the tops of her meaty breasts, he put a fingertip to the top of her blouse and pulled it forward and down to open it more for a better look at her cleavage. "I love your blue bra." He lifted the hem of her short skirt higher with his finger. "I love your sexy underwear. I love your blue, bikini panties," he said lifting the hem of her skirt higher with his finger.

Feigning her modesty but sexually aroused that he was interested in playing her incestuous, mother and son, sexy, incestuous game of seduction, she closed the top of her blouse with her fingers without buttoning it.

"My underwear?" She feigned her shocked embarrassment while fully aware that he could her panties. "Can you really see my underwear?" She looked down at her lap to see what he could see. "Oh, my. I'm so embarrassed," she said with a dirty laugh.

Sexually teasing him, erotically enticing him, and flashing him even more of her blue, bikini panties, she pulled her short skirt higher and looked down at herself to see what he could see of her. A game they obviously both enjoyed playing, she pulled her skirt down but he left his hand there between her legs with his fingertips in contact with her panty clad pussy. He fingered her pussy through her panty while she fingered his cock through his jeans.

"You're already wet," he said pushing her panty aside with his finger and entering her.

She cooed at first and then she rejected his finger with a shove of his hand with her hand.

"Wait. I'm supposed to be drunk. I'm supposed to be sleeping," she said. "I'll pretend I'm asleep drunk on the couch and you slowly undress me. Okay?"

He gave her a big smile.

"That will work," he said.

Ruth made herself more comfortable on the couch. She put a pillow behind her head, lifted her right knee, and put her left foot on the living room floor. Now, with her legs spread open and her short skirt raised high enough to give Chris access to her panty clad pussy, she closed her eyes as if she was sleeping.

As if he was her son happening upon his drunken, sleeping, horny mother who had just returned home sexually frustrated from an all-male strip show, he slowly and stealthily unbuttoned her blouse as if he was a thief opening a safe. One slow button at a time, he continued unbuttoning his pretend mother's blouse. He exposed her long line of sexy cleavage before exposing the entirety of her sexy, blue, low cub bra. As soon as he had her blouse unbuttoned, he slowly and carefully flayed it open. The tricky part would be unhooking her front snapping bra. Yet, better than a bra with hooks in the back, unhooking her front snapping bra would be easier but would still be difficult, even with her playing along.

Trying his best not to touch any skin with his fingertips, he carefully lifted one side of her bra to unhook it. Once it was unhooked, as if unwrapping an expensive gift, he slowly and carefully parted her bra cups in the way he opened her blouse. With her naked breasts exposed before his horny eyes, even more difficult than controlling himself from not touching her tits and feeling her tits as she pretended to sleep, the hardest part would be removing her panties without awakening her. Yet, even if he awakened her from her feigned sleep, still pretending that she was his mother, she'd no doubt play along with playing the incestuous, mother and son game of pretend with him.

With her abundant breasts totally exposed, slowly and carefully, he lifted her skirt to expose the entire front of her blue, bikini panties. Her panties weren't big enough to hide all of her pubic hair and her bushy mound filled her panties as if she was hiding a small fury animal in her underwear. A sight that obviously sexually excited him to see, she had quite the dark, brown bush. 

Only, ruining his little game, as soon as her panties were exposed, Ruth opened her eyes. Obviously not wanting the game to be over, she surprised him by awakening. By the disappointed look on his face, he was no doubt hoping that she'd pretend to still be asleep while he had his wicked sexual way with her hot MILF of a body. With him looking at her as if she really was his mother, she looked at him as if he really was her son.

"Chris," she said feigning a yawn and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "When did you get home? I must have fallen asleep on the couch. I'm never been so drunk," she said with a feigned, drunken laugh. Then, with her big tits totally exposed to his horny eyes, she looked down at her blouse and bra that were pushed wide open and her skirt that was hiked up to her waist. "What the Hell are you doing?"

While staying in character and obviously not wanting the game to end, just when he got to the fun part, he took a moment to think of what to say.

"I, um, came home and saw you sleeping on the couch. I, um, was going to undress you, put on your nightgown, and carry you to bed," he said acting as if his pretenses were all so very innocent.

As pretending to be too drunk to believe what she saw of herself the first time, she looked down at herself again before looking at him aghast. As if she was an actress playing the role of his mother, she looked at him with embarrassment and shame. Only, she was no Florence Henderson from The Brady Bunch. She was more akin to Norma Bates, Norman Bates' mother from the Bates Motel.

"Undress me? You were undressing me? Oh, my God. I'm all exposed," she said feigning her embarrassment and pushing down her short skirt. She pulled her blouse over her naked breasts. "I'm so embarrassed," she said verbalizing her false modesty. "How can you do that to me? I'm your mother. I'm not some drunken whore," she said even though she was a drunken whore.

He moved her hands away from her breasts and opened her blouse to expose her naked breasts to his horny eyes again.

"Don't be embarrassed Mother," he said. "I'm just going to get you ready for bed. It's nothing that I haven't seen before."

She looked at him aghast.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before? You've seen me naked before?" Playing her part as if she was vying for an Academy Award, she looked at him with shocked embarrassment. "Oh, my God. I don't believe you've seen me naked."

He rolled his eyes and sighed.

"I've seen you naked many times Mother when you were in your room with the door open dressing or undressing or taking a bath with the bathroom door open and you didn't know that I was home," he said. "I, um, didn't want you to know that I was there standing on the stairs in the dark hallway. I didn't want you to think that I was peeping on you," he said when obviously he was in this pretend game of mother and son incest. "I didn't want to embarrass you so I waited until you were done dressing or undressing before making my presence known."

She looked at him as if she was really embarrassed. She looked at him in the way that any woman would look at a peeping Tom, even when that peeping Tom was her son, especially when that peeping Tom was her son.

"You peeped on me, your own mother? How could you? Why would you?"

As if she really was his mother instead of his lover, he looked at her with incestuous lust.

"I did peep on you and I'm not sorry that I saw you naked," he said. "I masturbated over all that I saw of you, too," he said obviously finding courage in his impromptu, incestuous confession to tell her all of his forbidden, incestuous behavior. 

Now with her offering no resistance, after having played her little, incestuous game of pretend, he removed her blouse and her front bra that was already unsnapped. Next he unbuttoned and unzipped her short skirt. He lifted her butt to gently ease down her skirt before doing the same with her blue, bikini panties. Naked now, she had with one knee raised on the couch and her other foot was flat on the floor. With her knees spread, her bushy, brown pussy was totally exposed to her pretend son. He stared at her and her naked pussy in the way that she stared at him and his jean covered cock.

"What about you?"

Getting into playing their little, pretend incestuous game, she gave him a sexy look of seduction.

"What about me?"

He returned her sexy look.

"Aren't you going to undress too? Aren't you going to get naked so that I can put you to bed too," said Ruth with a dirty laugh. "Maybe I can undress you too in readiness for bed," she said.

In the way he had undressed her, she started undressing him. She unbuttoned and removed his shirt and tee shirt before reaching down to unbutton and unbuckle his pants. He cooperated in helping her undress him by lifting his butt for her to pull down his jeans and underwear. He kicked off his sneakers for her to remove his pants and underwear. Then, he removed his socks. With the both of them naked, and their little game of mother and son pretend incest temporarily over, they now reverted back to being lovers of a younger man with an older woman.

"Get me another drink, Chris," said Ruth finishing the last sip of her third Martini.

She handed him her empty Martini glass and when he reached for her glass, she gave his naked cock a squeeze with her other hand when he stood. He stared at her naked body in the way that she was staring at his naked body. She took a sip of her drink as soon as he handed her the Martini and put the glass down on the table beside her. Then, she kissed him. Kissing and kissing him as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend, husband and wife, or truly mother and son, they made out as if they were horny teenagers. 

While he fondled her naked breasts and fingered her erect nipples, she fondled his erect cock. Obviously horny from playing their mother and son pretend game, he already had quite the erection. Then, when he reached down to finger her pussy, with her not needing anymore foreplay, she was already wet and ready.

"Fuck me, Chris. Stick that big, hard, hairy cock inside of Mommy's cunt," she said surprising him when she continued playing their game of incest. "Fuck me. Pretend you're fucking your mother while fucking me," she said whispering her words in his ear before licking the inside of his ear and blowing in his ear. "Then, after you fuck me, after you make me cum, I'll pretend I'm your mother while sucking your prick," said Ruth whispering in his ear again as if she was telling him a sexy secret.

Chris moved between her legs what were already spread wide open for him. As soon as the head of his hard cock touched the lips of her pussy, as if pushing her dildo inside of her pussy, she reached her hand down and stuffed him inside of her. She was so wet and when his hard cock easily slid inside of her, the sensation of him entering her and filling her temporarily, sexually satisfied her. Then, once his prick was deeper inside her, he humped her. Humping her harder and humping her faster, he was fucking Ruth as if he was fucking his mother. Arching his back, he reared up his head and in the way there bodies were so tensely stiff, they mimicked the shape of a clothespin.

Humping and humping, Chris continued humping Ruth harder and faster. Keeping time to his body slamming into her, her breasts bounced as if moving to music. Obviously determined to make her cum, he wanted to give her an orgasm. Obviously determined to make her cum, he wanted to sexually please her so that she'd reciprocate the favor and sexually pleasure him.

He continued pounding her shapely body into the soft couch. Obviously, Ruth needed the energetic body of a young man to make her cum. She needed a man who could not only last more than a few minutes while fucking her but also she needed a man who could maintain a stiff erection. With Chris good looking also, his good looks added to her sexual excitement. In the way she no doubt imagined kissing her pretend son, she continued kissing him while he continued fucking her.

"Oh, my God. That's it. Don't stop. I'm cumming Chris. I'm cumming. I'm going to cum. Mommy is cumming," she said whispering her sexual excitement in his ear again. "Fuck me, Chris. Fuck me. Fuck me harder. Fuck me faster. Fuck your mother. Fuck Mommy."




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #07



She wrapped her arms around his neck and wrapped her long legs around his back as he continued fucking and fucking her. As if he was fucking a firm pillow positioned on the couch, in the way that Ruth's body was beneath him and wrapped around Chris, they looked like an upside down turtle. Fucking and fucking her, he continued fucking her while she returned his humps.

Then, when she tensed her body a minute before going limp, it was over. Instead of screaming out her sexual pleasure and yelling out his name, Ruth had a silent orgasm. Chris moved off of her to move beside her. As if they had just finished a naked workout, they were both sweating and out of breath. They stayed like that holding one another and lightly kissing while he continued fondling her breasts and fingering her nipples and she fondled his cock while slowly stroking him for him to maintain his erection.

"I need a cigarette before I suck you," she said.

As if he was her manservant, he reached out his hand to grab her cigarettes and lighter. Taking a cigarette out of the pack he put it to his lips and lit the end of it with her lighter before handing the cigarette to her. Chris didn't smoke but he respected her need for a cigarette, especially at a time like this, right after having sex and just before she was going to suck him.

As if sending smoke signals to the Gods of sex, she took a few big inhales to send up a cloud of blue smoke over them. Then, she took another long sip of her drink before sliding her naked body halfway down his naked body. She took him in her hand to stroke him to a harder erection while kissing his cock and licking his cock. Then, while staring up at him with her big, brown, beautiful eyes, she took him in her mouth. Sucking and sucking him while continuing to stare up at him, she sucked him as if she was his mother and he was her son.

"Suck my cock, Mom. Blow me," he said putting both of his hands to the side of her head and humping her mouth as if he was humping a pumpkin with a hole carved in it for a mouth to fit his cock. 

He moved her head up and down on his stiff prick while he humped her mouth and fucked her face.

"I love sucking your cock, Chris. Mommy loves blowing her son," said Ruth.

As soon as she said Mommy loves blowing her son, Chris released a load of cum in Ruth's mouth. What Ruth wouldn't do for her husband, she willingly and lovingly did for this young man she had picked up at the mall. Not only did she suck him but also she allowed him to cum in her mouth. Not only did she allow him to cum in her mouth but also she swallowed his cum. As sad as it was true, denying her husband the use of her mouth, her own husband had never experienced the sexual pleasure of cumming in his wife's mouth to watch her swallow his cum.

To be continued...

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Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #08



Please vote. Please give me the support of your vote.

I dedicate this story to Walter from Southern California. 

*

After flashing men her naked body, Ruth wants Jay to spank her in public and in a busy mall for being bad.

Having fallen asleep after having sex, Chris was now ready to go at Ruth again. Directing her movements as if she was a mannequin in a store display, Chris knelt on the couch and rolled Ruth's naked body over from her back to her stomach. Arousing her from her drunken stupor, he slapped her ass hard to get her to move right where he wanted her.

"Ow," she said rubbing her ass and laughing. "What time is it? I need a cigarette. I need another drink."

He slapped her ass again, this time even harder.

"Not now. Not yet. I want to fuck you first," he said giving her a sexually excited look.

She returned his horny look with her sexy look. Obviously, on the same page sexually, something her husband wouldn't do, even when asked, Chris wasn't aware that Ruth had a long history of enjoying men spanking her. She loved feeling a man's hand on her naked ass. She loved being stripped naked and spanked. She loved it when a man lifted her short skirt in public and spanked her through her panties.

"Slap my ass again and I swear, I'll suck you," she said giving him a sexy look with a naughty laugh. "I'll fucking blow you if you spank me one more time."

Instead of spanking her again and instead of moving down to stick his cock in her mouth, he lifted her to her knees for her naked ass to be conveniently poised and positioned in the air. Then, not even bothering with foreplay, with her forehead resting on the sofa cushion, he knelt on the couch behind her and inserted himself in her still wet pussy and fucked her. Humping her harder and humping her faster, Chris used Ruth's body for sex in the way she used him to buy her booze and cigarettes. A cheap date, allowing any man to strip her naked, she'd fuck and suck any man who'd buy her a bottle of gin, a bottle of vermouth, and a carton of Marlboro cigarettes. 

Forget about making love to her and forget about slowly humping her, Chris was fucking her like an animal. Forget about looking in her eyes while kissing her and whispering sweet nothings in her ear while making love to her, he was banging her from behind as if they were dogs. Indeed, as if he was a dirty dog and he was, they both were, he was pounding the pussy of another man's wife from behind while in Jay's house.

As if keeping beat of how many times he humped her, Ruth's tits bounced with every hump. Giving her the hard fucking that she deserved, with his hips banging into her naked ass, he was fucking her hard and fucking her fast while their naked bodies made loud slapping noises. A recognizable sound, as if clapping with a cupped hand, the sound of Chris fucking Jay's wife could be heard throughout the house.

"Oh, my God, Chris. Oh, my God. Fuck me baby. Fuck Mommy. Mommy's going to cum," she said as sexually excited being fucked as he was sexually excited when fucking her. "Don't stop. Please don't stop fucking me, lover. Fuck me harder. Fuck me faster. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me."

Fucking her harder and fucking her faster, obviously Chris was determined for them both to cum at the same time.

"Cum Mommy, cum and I'll come with you," he said not slowing his momentum while sweating and already out of breath.

Unusually quick and sudden for her, usually taking her much longer to have an orgasm, just as he said for her to cum, she did. Just as she silently enjoyed her orgasm with nothing more than a gasp and a whimper, he exploded another load of cum inside of Jay's wife. His third load of cum, two in her pussy and one in her mouth within the last several hours, they were both sexually insatiable. Only, as much as he enjoyed having sex with older woman and she enjoyed having sex with younger men, two olive martinis and Marlboro cigarettes were also part of her sexual equation. With the both of them breathing hard and sweating, the whole living room smelled of cigarettes and of sex. They collapsed beside one another on the couch and fell asleep again.

"Oh, my God, Chris. That was wonderful. You're such a great lover. You know just want Mommy wants and what your mother needs," she said turning to face him to kiss him. "Now get me a cigarette lover. I need a drink," she said as if he was her servant instead of her lover. "Make me another martini with two olives."

Repaying him the favor, she slapped his ass hard when he stood from the couch to do her bidding. Then, when he turned to face her, she took his cock in her mouth again and stroked him while sucking him.

* * * * *

A place Jay used to love returning to after being away from his beloved wife when he taught at the university, a simpler and slower life then, he didn't know any better. Not privy to his wife's numerous sexual affairs then, now he dreaded returning home to his not so loving wife after traveling for days. Yet, unable to point the finger of blame at just her for their failed marriage, he was guilty of the same infidelities. With both of them having sex with others instead of one another, he wasn't totally innocent either. With them living in a college town, tits for cocks, he was having sex with young, college coeds while Ruth picked up young, college men at the mall.

Then, later, an offer he couldn't refuse, he quit teaching to assume the responsibilities as the President of a Fortune 500 company. When traveling all over the country and all over the world on business, he had sex with women young enough to be his daughter in the way that Ruth had sex with men young enough to be her son. Obviously knowing she had a good thing going, Ruth continued picking up young men by flashing her body at the mall and bringing them home to have sex with her.

With them young enough to be living at home or in a dorm room at school, she never went to their place to have sex. As long as they bought her booze and cigarettes, always she brought them home to fuck them and to suck them. With her sexual services much cheaper than what a prostitute charged for a quickie, Ruth gave them all-night, around-the-world sex. She allowed them to do whatever they wanted to do to her naked body, as long as they allowed her to do whatever she wanted to their naked bodies.

Alas and unfortunately, had Ruth been more of a loving wife to Jay and had given him the sex that she freely and willingly gave to young strangers, he wouldn't have looked elsewhere for sexual satisfaction. With him so sexually frustrated and with college coeds throwing themselves at their college professor for a passing grade because of some imagined infatuation they thought they had with him, the temptation was sometimes too much to resist. Some of these young women perceived him as if he was their father. Some of these young women were more sexually aggressive than he could ever be. Some of these young women stripped themselves naked as soon as they were alone with him in his office and wouldn't take no for an answer. With him sitting behind his desk and refusing their sexual advances for fear of losing his job, some of these young women would fall to their knees between his legs, unzip him, pull out his cock, and start blowing him.

After having as much sex with as many young women as she had sex with young men, they drifted further apart. Once home alone with Ruth, and with them just going through the motions of being married, they slept in separate bedrooms. He was left with a cold bed in an empty marriage and she seemingly was happy to sleep alone without him.

Sad, so sad. What he once thought was love was now growing hatred. How can he love her so much then and hate her so much now. No doubt, she didn't love him. No doubt, for her to do all that she's done, she never loved him.

At a time when he was looking for answers and who to blame, he used to think that Ruth had changed from the good, sober woman she was and who he married but she hasn't changed at all. Hard for him to believe, but she was the same woman that he married. Only, at the time, with love blinding him, he didn't see her for the whore that she was and the drunk she grew to be.

If anyone had changed, he had changed enough now to see her for what she was, for who she always was, and for what she had now become, a drunken whore. From her wedding day, she was drunk when she had sex with his best man, Roger, in the back of the limo during their wedding reception. A new record of unfaithfulness and a new low of untrustworthiness, it's unbelievable that a new bride could cheat on a newly married groom during their wedding reception. How low could she go?

If only he knew she had been unfaithful to him already then, he should have dumped her ass. He should have asked for an annulment. Only, chances are, with him tightly wrapped around her finger and with him already her bitch, even if he knew she had cheated on him during their wedding reception, still in love with her, he would have forgiven her.

Yet with him able to see the real her now, if anyone wanted the definition of a bitch, there'd be a picture of Ruth gloating while goading him in the dictionary. If anyone wanted the definition of a cunt, there'd be a picture of Ruth naked with her legs spread in the dictionary. If anyone wanted the definition of a drunk, there'd be a picture of Ruth surrounded by empty bottles of gin and vermouth in the dictionary. If anyone wanted the definition of a whore, there'd be a picture of Ruth having sex with a young man in the dictionary.

When he married her, just as he truly loved her, adored her, and idolized her, he thought she loved him, adored him, and idolized him too. He thought she was faithful to him but she wasn't. Truth be told, right from the first day of their marriage, she was never faithful to him. She already had a long line of men who knew her intimately and sexually and in the way that Jay didn't know her, never knew her at all.

He knew she liked to drink, who didn't back then, but he didn't know she had a drinking problem. It was too hard to see that she was an alcoholic when he was drinking with her at the time too. Only for every drink he had, she had two. Moreover, when he stopped drinking, she didn't. With her a whore and a drunk, and with her able to hide who and what she was from him for years, she was no good from the start of their 25-year marriage. 

Whether he was working teaching college or later traveling the United States and the world, he knew she spent every day that he was gone picking up men at the mall, having sex with them, and getting drunk. While he worked hard building a better life for them, she did her best to tear it all down as quickly as he assembled the necessary pieces for a fruitful marriage and a happy life. A positive man, generally he was happy. With him enjoying the outdoors, he had his hobbies and his art. A negative woman, content to stay at home when not at the mall, generally she was unhappy. Seemingly she had nothing in her life but sex and alcohol.

One day, after they argued, she not only wanted to get back at him but also she wanted to hurt him. She told him about her having sex with young men. While in a drunken rage, she actually confessed to having sex with dozens of men, hundreds of men, and a countless number of men that spanned the 25 years of their marriage and even before, while they dated and were engaged. There were so many men who she allowed to have their wicked sexual way with her body. There were so many pricks she fucked and cocks she sucked that she couldn't even come close to accurately counting the number of men who ejaculated their cum in her hand, in her mouth, in her pussy, and in her ass.

Just blurred drunken memories, she didn't even remember the names of most of the men that she fucked and sucked. There were so many men, too many men to remember, especially when she was drunk most of the time. To her, none of her extramarital affairs mattered. To her, nothing in her life mattered. Yet, to him, every extramarital affair mattered. To him, everything that happened in his life, her life, and their lives mattered.

Whether she had the extramarital affair or he had the extramarital affair, every infidelity took more from their marriage until there was nothing left of their marriage but a wedding rings, wedding pictures, and a marriage license. Yet, even with the multitude of men and women who passed through their arms and slept in their beds, the big difference between them was that he was continuing to live and enjoy life while she was slowly killing herself and dying from alcohol. With her pretending that none of what she did mattered, everything she did mattered to her. Only, with her continuing down the path of self-destruction that gathered more shit as she figuratively rolled downhill, she didn't know how to fix it nor how to stop her descent. 

A double standard then that still exists and persists today, if she was a man having sex with women, no one would blink an eye but she was a woman having sex with men and that outrageous behavior raised more than just an eyebrow. Unless they were one of the ones having sex with her, that cold, sexual reality, whether they were men or women, raised everyone's righteous indignation. How dare she? How could she? What's wrong with her? Along with the hundreds of others, she told him about all the men she had sex with including Roger on their wedding day and with his friend, Jack, who got her pregnant but she lost the baby, thank God.

Instead of being confined in a hotel room as if he was in a prison cell, even with him dreading having to see Ruth again, he was glad he was on his way home and soon to be sleeping in his own bed. Most times, he was able to ignore his wife as if she wasn't even there. Most days, with him doing his own thing while she did her own thing, he wasn't home. As if they were already separated but living in separate parts of the same house, they had separate lives, different schedules, and even separate bedrooms. Most days, he saw more of his co-workers than he saw of his wife and she saw more of young lovers than she ever saw of him.

As long as he didn't have to see her men, bump into her men, meet her men, and have her extramarital affairs rubbed in his face, in the way she did when she confessed, he no longer cared what Ruth did behind his back. As long as she didn't bring her work home with her and left him the Hell alone, he closed his eyes to his wife's sexual shenanigans and numerous infidelities. To him, if only unofficially, being that they were already separated in mind, spirit, and physicality, they were already divorced. He didn't care who she was with sexually as long as she didn't spend any more of his money that she already threw down the toilet to buy booze, cigarettes, and clothes.

It angered him when she used his money to buy all that she needed to make her look sexier and prettier for someone else. As if he was already divorced from her or as if she had died, with him able to put her on a boat in his mind and sail her far away, he was done with her. He just needed to make it official. Needing to shut down the bank of Jay, he needed to divorce her cheating ass for him to stop her from bleeding him dry.

* * * * *

In hindsight, thinking back on it now, with her giving him plenty of clues, he should have known the type of woman she was. He should have known she was an exhibitionist whore. He should have known she was no good. He should have known she didn't love him and never loved him. With him not part of her list of favorite things, what she loved was young, hard cocks, Marlboro cigarettes, and two olive martinis.

From the first time he went to the mall with her to buy a bikini to wear to a beach party, he should have known she was playing him, sexually teasing him, and erotically enticing him by showing herself to other men. Obviously trying to illicit a sexual response from him, another man would have enjoyed playing her game of voyeurism and exhibitionism but not Jay. Even then with her obviously knowing that most men are voyeurs, Jay didn't know that his wife was an exhibitionist. With her always making her flashing appear accidental, how would he know?

Forget about suspecting she was a whore, he never suspected she was a slut. Whether flashing up skirts of her panties, down blouses of her bra, parading around in her sexy underwear, topless, or even naked, she loved showing bits and pieces of her sexy, shapely body to unsuspecting men. She loved watching their shocked, right place at the right time, reactions to them seeing some part of her that they never expected to see and should never see of another man's woman. 

From that moment on, he should have known that she was too much woman for him to handle. From that moment on, he should have known that he was in over his head. Only, he was oblivious to her sexual peccadillos. Totally clueless, he thought she was a good, morally modest woman and a loving wife. He had no idea his wife was not just a slut but a whore.

Unaccustomed to women like her, women who enjoyed teasing young men as much as he later enjoyed having sex with young women, he didn't know how to play her sexy games of tickle, tease, and peekaboo. Unaccustomed to being used and abused by a woman, since he had sex with his mother, with her mantra of never getting mad but getting even, Ruth was the bitch that he never saw coming. With him not as openly honest about his sexual fantasies, always secretive about his sexual desires, he didn't even know how to enjoy her sexy games of voyeurism and exhibitionism. With him not party to and/or a participant in her sexy games of showing men what they all wanted to see but shouldn't see of another man's wife, he quickly became her victim instead of her accomplice.

Until he met Ruth, he had never been with someone who sexually teased him, erotically challenged him, or role played sexual what-if scenarios as fodder to fuel sex. Already armed with his PhD. in physical chemistry, he was a scholar and she was a whore with an appetite for sex and alcohol as big as he had an appetite for knowledge. With his dedication to his studies, devotion to learning chemistry, and his big brain ready to soak up more information, obviously Ruth saw him as being a good provider long before he ever did. What did he know about conniving women who had a secret, self-centered, and self-serving agenda? He was just a nerd.

At a time before he was having sex with college coeds, she was already using him as her personal ATM machine while cheating on him with younger men. Their incompatibility an obvious understatement, with neither having anything in common, the combination couldn't be more clearly disastrously denoted than if he was a monk and she was a stripper. Truly, it wasn't as much that Ruth was a bad woman or that he was a bad man, they were just incompatible. With their marriage combustible, they were just married to the wrong person. As if their marriage was a bad chemical reaction, the wrong formulaic mix, they were deadly poison together.

* * * * *

One of the few times they went anywhere together, Ruth coerced Jay to go to the mall with her to help her pick out a bikini to wear to an upcoming barbeque/pool party. Obviously, she was looking for more than to just buy a sexy, barely there bikini. No doubt hoping to initiate Jay in playing his role as a voyeur while she played her role as an exhibitionist, she was hoping for some sexy fun when using the dressing room curtain as her prop.

"Let's go in here," she said pulling him into a woman's clothing store, one of the last stores that had curtains on the dressing rooms.

Jay looked up at the store sign, 'Ilene's Itty Bitty Bikinis,' and pulled away from his wife.

"Why don't I wait out here? I need to go to Radio Shack anyway," he said. "I'll meet you back here in a few minutes."




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #08



Ruth made a face and grabbed his hand again.

"C'mon, I need you to help me find the perfect bikini," he said. With this her favorite store, whenever Jay was away traveling, she used this store's curtained dressing room to entice young men to go home with her. "Pick out some bikinis that you like and that you think I'd look good wearing and bring them to the dressing room," she said already walking away from him.

As if he was a child released from his mother's hand or a man left alone in the cosmetic and perfume department of a women's store, Jay turned to look at her with panic.

"Wait," said Jay not having a clue of how to pick out a bikini. "What size do you wear?"

Held captive in her territory, a woman's clothing store at the mall, she gave him a patient look to show him that she understood his panic and hopefully to illicit his unneeded help. Needing him to be there as her shill but not to actually pick out a bikini, she just wanted to keep him occupied while she flashed her naked body to unsuspecting men from behind the dressing room curtain. She already had planned what she intended to do. When the time was right, she'd used him to show men all that they wanted to see of her while showing them all that she wanted them to see of her.

"Size six or size small if they run small, medium, and large and 36C if there's a bra size," she said turning on her heels to look through a rack of bikinis.

Already preoccupied going through dozens of different styles and colors of bikinis, she paid him no mind.

"What color and which style?"

She gave him a sexy smile.

"Whichever colors and styles you prefer and think would look sexy on me," she said.

Immediately finding two bikinis in her size, her style, and color choice, she was already headed for the dressing room, while Jay obliviously wandered the store. He was as out of place in a woman's clothing store as she'd be out of her element in a chemistry lab. Obviously he'd be more comfortable in a bookstore than he would in a woman's clothing store. While he was looking through the racks of bikinis trying to find the size and price tags, she was already stripping herself naked behind a partially opened curtain in the dressing room. Giving a sexy striptease show of her naked body to the boyfriends waiting outside the curtained dressing room for their girlfriends and to the husbands waiting for their wives, this was her plan of exhibitionism all along.

With a quick swipe of her hand, the whooshing sound that the curtain hooks made sliding across the curtain rod was an alarm that attracted the attention of men. With the men watching her go behind the curtain in the dressing room, Ruth already had the attention of every man in the store. The faster she swiped at the curtain, the louder the whooshing sound the curtain hooks made sliding across the curtain rod. She closed the curtain just enough to not make her flashing intentions obvious and left it open just enough for the men to still peep on her undressing. As if waving a red flag at a herd of bored and horny bulls, when she closed the curtain she knew she'd be noticed.

Having done this curtain closing routine many times before, she knew that the curtains never closed all the way when she closed them that fast. Getting caught up in itself, the drape of the curtain always left an opening at the far end that was big enough for men to see her undressing. A curtain closing move that she had practiced and mastered over the years and that made her intentions not seem obvious, instead of fixing the curtain, she left the curtain open just enough so that the men could see her stripping naked.

While she knew the men were staring at her naked ass through the open curtain and staring at her tits and pussy through the dressing room mirror, she pretended she didn't know the men were peeping on her. Acting oblivious while standing behind the partially closed curtain naked, she innocuously continued trying on the couple of bikinis she brought to the dressing room while Jay looked for more. Finally, Jay carried half a dozen bikinis while walking towards the dressing room that was surrounded by five gawking men. He walked to the dressing room from the left end of the store. With him standing at the far end of the curtain, the end that was completely closed, he didn't notice that the curtain wasn't closed all the way on the opposite end, the right end of the dressing room.

"Ruth? Honey? I found some bikinis in your size," he said.

Jay glanced over at the five men who now looked at the floor, at the ceiling, off in the distance, and/or at one another, anywhere but at the partially opened dressing room curtain where Ruth stood behind naked. As soon as he spoke, no doubt realizing that he was her boyfriend or husband, the men all took a step back. As soon as he spoke, as if she opened a curtain on Bob Barker's The Price Is Right or Monty Hall's Let's Make A Deal show, Ruth flung open the curtain as if she was a magician in a disappearing and reappearing magic act.

Unembarrassed and unashamed, except for her high heel shoes, she stood before her husband and before the five, leering men totally naked. Naked, Ruth was naked. With his her intention all along, while having to buy a bikini anyway, she loved flashing men her shapely, naked body. With her B/C cup breasts on display along with her brown, bushy pussy and her round, firm ass, she ignored the men as if they were even there and as if she was alone with Jay.

"Thank you," she said.

Obviously embarrassed for his wife, Jay looked at her wide-eyed horrified. Then, while still in plain sight of the five men and giving them a real show of her naked body, she leaned her naked body out of the dressing to give him a kiss. Not even glancing over at the men, she accepted the bikinis from him while acting as if she was standing naked in her bedroom alone instead of being naked on the floor of a woman's clothing store.

Any normal, horny man would have hugged her, held on to her, and even pulled her more out in the open of the dressing room to prolong her flashing her nakedness to the five men. Any normal, horny man would have disappeared behind the curtain in the dressing room to have hot sex with her. Yet, unaccustomed to this abnormal, sexual behavior, Jay wasn't like any normal, horny man.

Having never been enlisted to play this sort of sexy game of tickle and tease, he didn't have a clue on how to play this sexy game of voyeurism and exhibitionism. Even though he was later diagnosed as being addicted to sex, he wasn't addicted to sex yet. Perhaps with her denying him sex and leaving him sexually frustrated while she sexually serviced her small army of young men, Ruth had something to do with him being diagnosed as a sex addict later. She quickly closed the curtain again with a whoosh while leaving the same opening at the far end.

With his mouth gaping open and his eyes bulging out of his head, Jay looked from Ruth's nakedness to stare over at the five men. Then, obviously embarrassed for his wife when he needn't be, he stood with his back to the curtain as if he was guarding his wife by protecting her loose morals. Yet, with the horse already out of the barn, so to speak, the men saw all that they hoped to see and more. Happy with what she needed to do, flash some men her naked body, she quickly dressed and took two bikinis to the counter to buy. Not buying any of the bikinis he picked, not even trying any of them on, she bought the two bikinis that she took in the dressing room with her originally.

Jay's confusion matched his pale complexion and his horrified expression. He couldn't believe Ruth opened the dressing room curtain while she was naked. He couldn't believe she stood there naked. He couldn't believe five men saw his wife naked. If only he knew how many men had seen her in her underwear, topless, and/or naked wouldn't he be surprised? Obviously still reeling over Ruth opening the dressing room curtain and standing there naked as if she was fully dressed or at least wearing one of the bikinis, he looked stunned. As soon as they walked out of the store, he confronted her.

"Ruth!" He pulled at her arm when she walked away from him. "What the Hell was that about?"

She gave him a look of innocent confusion.

"I don't know what you mean," she said with a shrug. "I needed a new bikini for the barbeque beach party Saturday," she said feigning her innocence.

Seemingly he couldn't believe she wasn't as embarrassed as he was obviously now sexually excited that she flashed five men her naked body.

"No, not that. You flung open the dressing room curtain while you were naked. Those five men all saw you naked. Those five men all saw your naked body. Those five men all saw your tits, your ass, and your pussy," he said repeating himself.

Every time he said that five men saw her naked in a different, he had more than just a twinge of sexual excitement filtering through his quivering voice. She looked at him with feigned embarrassment. If she was an actress, she'd be nominated for the Academy Award for pretending her unawareness.

"They did? Oh, my God. Sorry. I didn't know anyone was there when I opened the curtain. I thought you were alone. I didn't realize anyone but you could see me. Sorry," she said again. "You should have warned me that there was someone there," she said punching his shoulder. "God, I'm so embarrassed."

He looked at her not knowing if he should believe her or if she was playing him.

"Sorry? Jesus Ruth. Those five men saw you naked. I can't believe those five men saw you naked," he said with him now obviously sexually aroused.

Finally he looked at her as if he wanted to have sex with her right then and right there at the mall. Only, even though Ruth would definitely do something like that, have sex in public and even at the mall, he'd never do anything like that. Definitely, Roger would have sex with her in public. Definitely, Roger would be a welcomed participant in her sexy games of voyeurism and exhibitionism.

Her perfect foil, Jay was such a pushover and, right from the start, Ruth knew it. Obviously he had no idea that her intention was to flash her naked body to unsuspecting men. Obviously, he had no idea that she was such an exhibitionist. Obviously, he had no idea that she knew he'd come to the dressing room with bikinis in hand and...Viola! Surprise! Oh, the stories that she could tell him about her flashing the mailman, the UPS man, the FedEx man, the pizza delivery man, and whoever else unsuspectingly had appeared at their front door.

"Maybe you should spank me for being naughty," she said giving him a sexy look and laughing once they were out of the store and walking through the mall. "Maybe you should spank me for accidentally flashing my naked body to those five men. Maybe you should just lift up my skirt, pull down my panties, and slap my naked ass until my naked ass is red raw," she said with sexual excitement.

Instead of marrying Jay, she should have married a man more her type. She should have married, Roger, Jay's best friend and best man at his wedding. Someone Ruth needed to keep her in her place, Roger could be a real brute. Definitely, even helping exposing her to men, Roger would have appreciated her exhibitionism and her need to flash her naked body to unsuspecting men. Definitely, eager to be in concert with her, Roger would have played her sexy games. He would have spanked her in public and even had sex with her in public. Only, just as Roger wasn't the brainy type, Jay was no Roger.

A good, hardworking, and honest man, Jay was too kind, too good, and too sensitive. She needed a man who'd take charge of her and who'd even slap her around when she deserved to be put in her place. Yet, Jay, not a violent man, a man who'd never hit a woman even sexually, he wouldn't even spank her when she needed to be spanked and even when she asked to be spanked.

"Spank you? Pardon? I don't understand," said Jay. "You actually want me to spank you?" He looked at her as if she was nuts before looking at all the people filing by them in the mall. "Right here? And right now?" He made a face. "Are you nuts?"

Ruth rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.

"Yes. Right here and right now and no I'm not nuts. I've been bad. So very bad. Truth be told, I'm just horny," she said staring at him while lifting her short skirt up to her waist to expose her white, bikini panties.

Then, unembarrassed and unashamed, she pulled down her panties, turned her naked ass towards him, and bent at the waist. Exposing her naked ass to him and to anyone who happened to walk by her, she exposed her brown, bushy pussy. Naked, Ruth was naked from the waist down in a busy mall while people walked by pointing, stopping, staring, laughing, and gawking.

"Ruth!"

She ran a slow hand over her firm, round, naked ass.

"Go ahead and spank me. I've been bad, so very bad," she said again. I deserve to be spanked. I need to be spanked hard," she said turning her head to look at him while wiggling her shapely ass. "Spank my bad ass hard Jay. Spank me."

Jay looked at her with the embarrassment that Ruth should have had when looking at him.

"I'm not spanking you Ruth," he said looking at her as if she was diseased. "I can't do that. I won't do that."

With her panties down around her ankles and the hem of her skirt resting on her back, he looked at the people filing by who stared at Ruth's naked ass and exposed pussy.

"Yes, spank me, Jay. Please? Pretty please? Go ahead and spank me. I deserve to be spanked. I've been bad, so very bad," she said yet again. "I want to be spanked. I need to be spanked. Slap my naked ass hard. Spank me until I'm red raw and crying. Hurt me, Jay. Hurt me good and then I'll hurt you bad and will allow you to hurt me bad too," she said while wiggling her ass at him.

Suddenly and obviously more than embarrassed, Jay looked around at all people walking by and at the men stopping to stare, leer, and ogle Ruth's naked ass. As if she was waiting for Jay to take her right there and fuck her, she didn't even care that her brown, bushy pussy peeked out from between the tops of the back of her shapely thighs. At the very least, taking her up on her offer to be spanked, another man would have spanked her. Another man would have had sex with her right there in the middle of the mall. Another man would have made her his bitch instead of her making him her bitch.

Obviously, she knew he wouldn't play her silly game of public humiliation just as she knew he wouldn't appreciate playing her game of voyeurism and exhibitionism. Just as he didn't deserve her, she didn't deserve him. At opposite ends of the sexual spectrum, they weren't compatible in so very many ways.

"For Christ sakes, Ruth! What's wrong with you? What's gotten into you? Everyone can see you. Pull up your panties and pull down your skirt. We're in the middle of a busy mall," said Jay trying shield his wife from onlookers with his jacket.

Obediently, Ruth pulled up her panties and pulled down her shirt skirt while giving a sexy wink to the men who passed.

"You're no fun," she said to her husband. "If only just once, you should have slapped my ass. You should have paddled me good for being bad," she said pouting while walking away. "I need a cigarette. I need a drink," she said mumbling under her breath.

After those flashing and non-spanking incidents at the mall, Jay should have known then that his wife was wild. Instead of recoiling against her licentious behavior as if he was a minister and she was his wife, he should have used her promiscuity to his personal, sexual benefit. Any other red blooded, normal, horny man would have slapped her ass and even fucked her pussy but not Jay. 

The egghead of a college professor that he was, he was more the refined, modest, and moral man, that is, until he started having sex with his young students. Only, obviously, instead of him going along with his wife, instead of him playing her sexy game, and instead of helping Ruth to expose herself, obviously she was too much woman for him to harness and control. Rather than him taking her under his thumb, joining in the fun, and even participating in the swinging lifestyle with her, instead kicking his uptight ass to the curb, she took him under her foot and under her control.

* * * * *

Jay's best friend and best man, Roger, took Ruth's hand at the wedding reception to lead her to the dance floor. After catching the garter, Jay stared at Roger in embarrassment and in anger when Roger spread Ruth's knees a little too wide to put the garter higher up on her thigh than necessary. With the backs of his fingers in direct contact with and tickling her panty clad pussy, Roger exposed her panties to all. Not shy, embarrassed, or ashamed, Ruth seemed to enjoy the sudden up skirt exhibitionism of her lacy, white panties.

Only, this was a game that Jay should have been playing with his bride instead of allowing his best man to have all the fun. If only he knew Ruth was an exhibitionist in the way that Roger knew, he could have had some voyeuristic and exhibitionistic fun with his new wife too. Had Jay picked up his bride in his arms and carried her around the hall while exposing her panties to all, she would have loved for him to do that. Only, Jay would never do anything like that. 

Closely dancing with her cheek to cheek, Roger danced with Ruth as if he was her husband and she was his new bride. Dancing so close that a piece of paper couldn't be slipped between them, he danced with Ruth as if they had already been sexually intimate and maybe they had. With Ruth in her high heels and Roger well over 6' tall, they made for a great couple. Only they weren't the ones just married. 

"You look so hot in your wedding dress," said Roger peering down at her exposed cleavage before whispering his sexual lust for Ruth in her ear.

Ruth beamed at his compliment.

"Thank you," she said blushing, something that Ruth never does.

Clearly in the way her gown was so low cut, with her wearing a low cut sexy bra, and with Roger looming over her, he was getting more than a view of her cleavage. No doubt, he was getting a clear view of her nipples and areolas too. No doubt with Ruth knowing all that he could see of her tits, she was seemingly have a good time sexually seducing Roger.

"I've never seen you as beautiful," he said continuing to stare down the top of her wedding gown. "If you weren't already married, I'd ask you to marry me," he said seemingly meaning it.

With them always flirting and teasing but never doing anything, she moved her head back to look Roger in the eye with her surprise.

"Thank you, Roger," said Ruth giving him the eye. Then, she gave him another look but this time a look filled with erotic passion. "Marry me? Really? You'd marry me?"

She shrugged off his sudden offer to marry her as utter nonsense before giving him a hard look of curiosity.

"Yes," he said. "I'd definitely marry you. You're hot. You deserve a better man than Jay. He doesn't know what to do with you, but I do," he said.

She gave him a curious and sexy look.

"And what would you do to me that Jay doesn't?"

He gave her a self-assured smile before giving her a deeply perverted look.

"After I made love to you, I'd fuck you. I'd really fuck you. I'd fuck you fast and hard. I'd fuck you every day and every night. I'd fuck you until you screamed out my name instead of his name when having an orgasm," he said with confidence.

As if he had just French kissed her while fingering her nipples with one hand and fingering her pussy with his other, she gave him a sexually excited look.

"A bit late now," she said with a nervous laugh. "Of all the times to mention marrying me and fucking me, on my wedding day to Jay, had you mentioned that before, perhaps I would have taken you up on one or the other or both."




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #08



He returned her look of erotic passion with his look of sexual lust.

"When seeing you dressed in your wedding gown and looking so very beautiful, a sudden fetish of mine, I'd give anything to have sex with you while you're wearing your wedding dress," he said. Then, looking into her eyes, Roger gave her more than just a look and a hint but a dare. "With the two of us always so competitive growing up, I'd love to bang your pussy before Jay does. I'd love to pile drive your cunt with my cock," he said whispering his outrageous request in her ear.

She gave Roger another sexy look along with her dirty laugh.

"What makes you think that Jay hasn't banged my pussy and pile driven my cunt already?"

Ruth gave him a dirty laugh and Roger laughed with her.

"Because I know Jay. If you look in the dictionary for the meaning of Boy Scout, there's a picture of Jay looking as holy as an altar boy," said Roger with a laugh.

Obviously with Roger pushing all of her buttons of sexual arousal, Ruth was never so sexually excited. Truth be told, as she's confessed to her friends already, without doubt, she'd love to have sex with Roger while wearing her wedding dress, especially with Roger. He was a real hunk. If she was ready to risk her one-hour old marriage to cheat on her husband with anyone, she'd cheat on him with Roger. Now that he mentioned marrying her, of all the times to think of marrying another man, she thought what it would be like to be married to Roger instead of to Jay. Now that he said he'd love to fuck her, she'd love to fuck him too. Without doubt, in the way that Jay would never cheat on her unless provoked, Roger would constantly be chasing pussy.

"I need some air. Meet me outside by the limo," she said standing on her toes to whisper in Roger's ear.

He gave her a sexually excited look before lightly kissing her on the lips.

"I can't wait," he said.

With Ruth already in the backseat of the tinted glass limo with the bodice of her wedding gown lowered, her breasts exposed, and her panties down around one ankle while waiting for Roger, he opened the limo door. As if she was his bride instead of Jay's new bride, she was ready for some dangerous, sexual fun. With everyone in the reception hall, including the limo driver, they were alone but, a real quickie, they needed to make their sexual affair fast.

"Hurry. Take out your cock. I want to touch it. I want to feel it. I want to stroke it and I want to suck it," she said as if Roger was her husband instead of Jay. "Then, once I make you hard enough with my mouth, I want you to shove the big cock in my wet cunt," she said lifting her wedding dress to her waist to expose her brown, bushy pussy. 

Ready to spoil his fun and her mood, Roger looked at her with sudden reluctance.

"I don't have a condom," he said seemingly willing to settle for a blowjob. "What if I make you pregnant?"

She gave him a warm, sexy smile that she should be saving for and giving her husband instead of giving his best friend.

"Don't worry about that. It's not my time of the month. I'm not ovulating. Besides, I'm on the pill. As an extra precaution, when you're ready to cum, pull out and cum in my mouth. Just be careful not to get cum on my dress," she said.

He leaned in the kiss her, no doubt, French kiss her, but she turned her head to the side.

"No. Don't. You'll ruin my makeup," she said. "Just fuck me and then I'll suck you," said Ruth. "Besides, I just want this to be sex. With you already interested in marrying me, the last thing that I want to happen on my wedding day is to fall in love with you," she said with a laugh.

As if part of an initiation ceremony, Roger pounded the pussy of his best friend's wife on her wedding day. Then, when ready for her to suck him, he carefully pulled out his cock from inside of her warm, wet pussy. With a wedding napkin beneath his stiff prick, as if he was delivering a piece of wedding cake to her mouth for her to eat, he moved his cock to her opened mouth. She accepted the stiff prick of her husband's best man in the way she should have given her husband the pleasure of oral sex but she never had given Jay the pleasure of her experienced mouth.

Sucking him as if sucking the skin off of a sausage, it didn't take more than a minute before Roger exploded a volume of cum in Ruth's willing mouth. Swallowing him, she licked his cock clean. Unless Jay smelled him on her breath but quickly fixing that with a breath mint, no one would know they just had sex. She pulled a tube of lipstick from the back of the limo to fix her lips before alighting from the limo. Allowing her to go in the reception first, Roger waited a few minutes before heading to the men's room from a side entrance. 

No one would ever suspect that Jay's best man fucked his wife in the backseat of the limo on their wedding day. No one would ever suspect that Ruth sucked Jay's best friend's cock, allowed him to cum in her mouth, and swallowed his cum. Until she confessed to Jay years later, no one would ever know that Jay's best man fucked his bride and received a blowjob before he did on his Honeymoon, not that he ever received a blowjob from Ruth.

To be continued... 



Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #09



Please vote. Please give me the support of your vote.

I dedicate this story to Walter from Southern California. 

*

Ruth confesses the sexual affair she had with Jack, Jay's older friend and neighbor. 

The final leg and the culmination of a long, tiring trip home from Japan, Jay's taxi drove down his street and neared his house. A quiet street with a lot of mature trees and in a good neighborhood, despite having to contend with his wife's lunacy, he always looked forward to coming home whenever he traveled. At least he'd get to see and catch up with things with his daughter, Kim.

A long flight home with movies he didn't want to watch, people he didn't want to talk to, and magazines he didn't want to read, it was a boring flight. Except for the pretty, Japanese stewardess and some of the attractive female passengers, there wasn't much to do other than ogle the women while imagining them in there bras and panties, topless, and/or naked. Probably not, but he wondered if any of the woman imagined him naked. No doubt, even the women he paid to have sex with him didn't imagine him naked before having sex with him. They just wanted to get it over with so that they could accept his money and go to their next customer. Where men think about sex, women think about money and security. No doubt, if he walked down the aisle fitted with a suit made of money, he'd have women all over him telling him how sexy and how handsome he was.

'They should have naked airlines,' he thought. 'Then again with many of the bad bodies flying in this plane, the last thing he'd want to see is them all naked.'

Forced to fly business class and to sit in seats that have less leg room than first class, feeling cramp and feeling more like cargo than he did a passenger, he was tired and cranky. He wished he was flying first class. With him the president of his company, he'd think that he'd be worth the price of a first class ticket. Now he wondered how much a first class ticket cost over a business class one. Too tired to think about such stupid things, he closed his eyes and slept during most of the flight home.

'Note to self. Remember to ask my secretary how much a first class ticket to Japan is, should he have to return there to sign contracts.'

A challenging week of negotiating with clients through an interpreter, while hoping his messages were received and his meanings were properly interpreted, it had been a difficult trip, especially when having to contend with the language barrier. A telling and seemingly insightful sign in this country meant entirely something else in Japan, especially back then, before the advent of the Internet made the world a smaller and less mysterious place. Then, when trying to play hardball with prices and terms, he ran the risk of insulting his host. He ran the risk of not only ending their negotiations and their open line of communication but also their business. That was the last thing he wanted to do. With all of the traditions so very different between the two countries, it wasn't just the language that he needed to learn but the customs that he needed to master.

Japan was a country so different than his own. With everyone unfamiliar and everything strange, albeit with so very many people seemingly all looking the same, he had a difficult time recognizing one person from another. Seemingly, everyone had black hair, brown eyes, and yellow skin. Seemingly, all the women were the same shape, size, and height. Some Japanese people looked very different, of course, but when trying to recognize and pick out a Japanese man or a Japanese woman in a crowd, it was virtually impossible.

He'd have nightmares of eating bowls of rice and raw fish with chopsticks while kneeling on mats, sitting on giant pillows, and suffering in silence from the pain of his aching back. Why the Japanese don't all have back problems, he'll never understand. Why the Japanese don't have comfortable chairs is another mystery he'd never understand either. Walking on his aching back in their bare feet, no wonder why nearly every Japanese women he's met is a licensed massage therapist in addition to being a prostitute, a hooker, or a call girl.

After being their guest in Tokyo for nine days instead of ten days, cutting his trip a day short, he just wanted to go home. He just wanted to sleep in his own bed. He just wanted to get back to his familiar routine, such as driving his new car, a new Cadillac that he bought just before he left, and returning to the office. Then, later, after he got some much needed rest and adjusted to the phenomena of jet lag, before returning to work, he just wanted to flop in his recliner, flip channels, and not be bothered for a day.

In the nearly 6,000 mile, 15 hour flight home from Japan, he'd think that in this modern age of space travel of 1986, there'd be a faster way to travel from the Far East to the United States. He wished his company had booked him on British Airways new supersonic Concorde SST but the plane didn't fly to Japan. Flying twice the speed of sound, at a flight speed of 1,350 miles an hour, he'd make it home from Japan in less than two hours, a fraction of the time it took to fly cross country in a conventional airliner.

'Wow. Forget about jet lag, I'd have supersonic lag,' he thought while laughing to himself.

Actually, his visit to Japan was not all bad, the lifestyle in Japan was more relaxed than the lifestyle in America. Most times, instead of feeling that he was on a business trip, he felt as if he was on vacation. No matter what language they spoke, the two universal sports that he was invited to watch, baseball, and to play, golf, were the same. His Japanese host was gracious enough to show him a good time. Should his Japanese counterparts ever come to America, he'd be pleased to return the favor and entertaining them.

Unless he was in a meeting with other men speaking a language he didn't understand and giving him looks he didn't appreciate, he was less stressed in Japan than in America. Now that he was leaving, instead of being in a hurry to head home, he wished he could have stayed longer in Japan. He wondered how different it would be to live on an island instead of being landlocked. For the most part, even after we destroyed so much of their country with nuclear bombs, they were a kind, gentle, and friendly people. 

In the way he was welcomed in Japan, instead of being welcomed home by his wife, he'd have to put up with her attitude and listen to her usual ration of shit. With her the one more important, she didn't care what he had to go through to earn a dollar to keep her shopping at the mall and to stock her with cigarettes and booze. The highlight of his trip, albeit a distant second to the young women he had sex with, was picking up a kimono for his daughter, Kim. He had fun having young, sexy, Japanese women modeling kimonos for him.

* * * * *

If he'd miss anything about Japan, he'd miss the beautiful, young women. Something they don't do in this country, unless he hired a prostitute to give him fetish sex by washing him, he'd miss young, naked women bathing him. With a bath something he never took at home, always taking showers instead, as if a ritual, bathing in Japan was so much more luxurious, relaxing, and sexually arousing at the same time, especially when surrounded by naked, Japanese women. He'd miss young, naked women massaging him. He'd miss having sex with young, naked women whose seemingly only purpose in life was to sexually please and pleasure him.

Yeah, they were all prostitutes, of course, but they were unlike any prostitutes that he ever met. Instead of having an attitude, using foul language, and rushing him to do what he sexually needed to do, they spoke softly, were gentle, kind, loving, and bowed at lot. There's something about a young, pretty, and naked woman bowing to him that he'd liked. There's something about a young, pretty, and naked woman bowing to him that he'd miss. Moreover, with him not understanding what they said most times, nodding his head and smiling a lot, sex bridged that communication gap once they stripped naked. No matter where he was in the world, sex was the universal language.

American women need to take heed and to take lessons from Japanese women. Japanese women know how to take care of a man. Japanese women appreciate their man going out in the cruel world to earn a living while they stay at home to care for the house and for the children. Not knowing if they still feel that way now but thirty years ago, when he was visiting their country, Japanese women didn't mind being subservient when today's American women want equal rights and equal pay. In hindsight, something we never should have given them, wasn't it enough that men gave women the right to vote?

There should be a college of sexual refinement where American women can go to learn how to sexually take care of a man, especially black divas who think they're all that. There should be a finishing school where women can go to learn how to take proper care of a man's sexual needs and to cater to his every sexual whim. If women took better sexual care of their men, waited on them hand and foot and satisfied their every sexual whimsy, men wouldn't have the need to wander and to have extramarital affairs as much as they do. In the way that Japanese women do, if only women would put their needs, sexual and otherwise, behind what their men needed and wanted, life would be so much better for hard working men. He could only imagine a black diva being interviewed by a newspaper reporter over her balking at being forced to attend such a school.

"Say what? Ah ha. Come again? Uh, uh. I ain't goin' to no Jap school to learn how to take care of my man," said Tanisha putting a hand to her waist and tossing back her head as if a bug just flew in her face. "I already knows what my man wants," she said accenting the word knows. "My man wants my big, black ass," she said turning and leaning forward to shake her booty and her moneymaker, while slapping her ass before pointing her finger in the air.

Then, flirting with him, Tanisha smiled at the reporter while fussing with her hair.

"Just so I understand for the record, you don't want to be submissive to your man. Is that correct?"

She gave him a look that singed his eyebrows.

"Submissive? Me?" Tanisha gave the man a look as if he was black and she was white. "Do I look like a submissive bitch to you, bitch? Do I look like I'll be getting down on all fours and barking like a dog anytime soon? Uh-uh, not me. No man will ever do me like that."

She paused in lambasting the reporter to collect her thoughts.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," said the reporter.

With her looking as if she was going to pound his ass in the pavement, he smiled nervously at her.

"Honey, there's no need for me to be submissive when my man got plenty of that submissive shit in prison. I ain't his cellmate, I ain't his keeper, and I ain't his bitch, you dig?"

Tanisha stared at the man as if she was someone and he was no one.

"I see," said the reporter scribbling his notes.

The reporter looked at her nervously while waiting for her to finish speaking.

"Besides, my man don't want me to be no bitch. My man wants me to be my own woman, a proud, black woman, and a strong woman. If my man wants me to be anyone's bitch, my man wants me to be his bitch, but while being the queen bitch, you dig? There's a big difference between being a submissive bitch, a bitchy bitch, and being the queen bitch. You feel me?"

The reporter opened a new page in his pad.

"Yeah, I think I do," said the reporter taking notes.

By the confused look on his face, he eyed Tanisha seeming unsure if she wanted him to actually feel her or if that was just an expression asking him if he understood. Obviously, unless he wanted two black eyes, he'd never reach out and feel Tanisha's double D breasts and big, bubble behind. Obviously seeing that she was such a strong and outspoken woman, he looked at Tanisha with a renewed respect.

"My man wants me to suck his big, black dick," she said putting a hand to her mouth and moving it back and forth while her tongue pushed her cheek out as if she had a cock in her mouth. "You dig? When my man's not cumming in my pussy or cumming in my ass, my man wants to cum in my mouth and all over my face. I don't have to sit in class to knows that. I already knows that. I already done learned those lessons while I was just a child," said Tanisha. "My grandma done taught me how to care for my man. You feel me?"

As if punctuating her point, she pointed her manicured, index finger at the reporter before staring at her manicure and before putting a hand to her supersized hip.

"I get it," said the reporter writing his notes. "I do. Thank you for your time," he said seemingly eager to get away from her.

Then, invading his space, she leaned her head into the reporter as if she was an animal at a watering hole leaning her neck for a drink of water.

"As long as he pays for me to get my nails done, pays to keep my hair soft, silky, and shiny, and pays for his baby's diapers, we're good. We're all good. You feel me?"

Suddenly looking afraid that she was going to hit him, he took a step back.

"I do. I feel you, I mean, understand you, Tanisha," said the reporter.

"I don't need no Jap school to learn me how to take good sexual care of my man in my own beh-roum. I already knows that," said Tanisha slowly wagging her finger in her face as if her finger was a windshield wiper. "You dig?"

* * * * *

With Japanese women so sexy, so submissive, and so willing to do whatever he sexually wanted, a little late now, he should have married a Japanese woman instead of marrying Ruth. He should have stayed in Japan instead of coming home to what? To her? For what? For the sexual frustration? For the fighting, the arguing, the bickering, the sniping, and the aggravation? There was no longer anything there that he wanted. After seeing what married life could be in Japan, albeit seeing things through the eyes of a prostitute in a foreign land, everything he wanted was somewhere else and was with someone else.

Instead of continuing to suffer through a dead marriage, he should have divorced Ruth, his whore of a drunken wife, years ago. Only, divorce wasn't as accepted then as it was now. Puritanical values, the Bible belt, the Evangelicals, and the disciplines of the Catholic Church ruled the roost of what was deemed appropriate behavior and what was not. A different time back then, with everything needing the censorship stamp of approval, it had only been a few years since censors censored what we watched on television and at the movies.

Important to his job and to his career, needing her to still accompany him to corporate functions and to the annual Christmas party, he had to stay married to his wife to preserve his image of being a happily married, family man. It was difficult for him to impose his morals over his employees if he was divorced and having sex with lots of woman, even though he was married and having sex with lots of women. His decision in not getting a divorce from Ruth had nothing to do with trying to save his marriage but more to do with protecting his career.

Besides, always working when not traveling, able to sweep his marital issues under the rug and put off the inevitable of getting a divorce, he was seldom home. By the time Ruth got to him enough that he wanted to strangle her or suffocate her with her pillow in her sleep, he had already left her and his marital problems behind. If he wasn't working long hours at the office, then he was on his way to Chicago, Houston, Los Angeles, New York, Boston, Montreal, London, Paris, Rome, and now Tokyo, along with dozens of other places.

Only now that he saw what he was missing, not wanting to waste any more of his life, he should live in Japan instead of living in southern California. If it wasn't for his job and his daughter, he'd leave Ruth to live the rest of his life in Japan. He only wished he could have brought a half dozen of the young, sexy, Japanese women he met in Japan home with him. Even though he'd be the envy of every man in the neighborhood, how would that look to the neighbors? As if he was the leader of a female, Japanese cult, he'd love to have his own concubine of several submissive and obedient, Japanese women here with him in America. Catering to his every whim, sexual and otherwise, while bowing and smiling at him, how cool would that be to finally be the center of his own universe?

If he missed anyone, not missing his wife for sure, he missed his daughter, Kim, the light of his life. She was a good girl who had grown into a beautiful woman. She was Daddy's little girl. Along the way, with his influence making her the good woman she is, she had adopted many of his personal values but unfortunately was starting to show some of the selfish and self-centered traits of her mother.

Hopefully she'd outgrow those bad qualities once she found the right man. Hopefully she'd tow the line of being a good, loving wife, once she fell in love and married the man of her dreams. Seemingly his chip of the old block, he was so very proud of her for recently graduating college and getting a good job. The only thing Ruth had to do with Kim's education was having sex with one of her college professors. 

'God, she's such a whore,' he silently said to himself when dreading returning home to his not so loving wife.

* * * * *

Jay's taxi drove past Jack's house. Other than the front porch light, Jack's house was dark. Once a good friend, he missed talking to him. Jack an older man, having just retired, was old enough to be Ruth's father. After Jack's wife, Sheila, died, he kept more to himself and puttered around his house.

Before his wife showed any preference for her lovers' age, until she stumbled over the magic pill of flashing her naked body to young men at the mall, she had sex with young men, men her age, and older men. No matter what their age, with her a cheap date, she'd have sex with any man who'd keep her fueled in alcohol and cigarettes. She had sex with Jack too. Still his neighbor but no longer his friend, when Ruth told him that she had sex with Jack too, that friendship was over.

"You had sex with Jack? Jack? But he's old," said Jay to his wife. "What the Hell is wrong with you Ruth?"

She looked at him a shrugged.

"Sixty-five isn't old," said Ruth. "Sixty-five is the new forty-five. Besides, what's the big deal? He's only twenty years older than me," she said no doubt thinking of the men she was with who were twenty years younger than her.

Some friend he turned out to be having sex with his wife. Then, to rub her extramarital affair in his face, she filled him in with all the sexual details when she was drunk one night. She confessed all of the sexual facts and intimate particulars that he didn't want to hear and rather not know. Yet, as if he was a rubbernecker after a fatal car accident, he was unable to remove himself from her by leaving the room.

He remembered the conversation they had as if it was yesterday instead of it being two years ago.

* * * * *

"After Sheila died, I went over to Jack's house to do his laundry and cook him a meal. It was not only the neighborly thing to do but also the Christian thing to do," said Ruth nodding her head as if her motives were all so very altruistic when Jay knew better. 

In the way she parades around her bedroom with the light on and the shades not drawn, she may be a good neighbor sexually, but she was not much of a Christian.

"That's nice dear," said Jay from behind his newspaper while trying his best not to listen to whatever she had to say.

Ruth looked over at her husband reading his paper. With her words more cutting than the sharpest sword, taking out her tongue that she used as her knife to sharpen it, she was ready to continually stab her husband with her all that she had to say.




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #09



"They were such a nice couple," she said giving him a look as if she was jealous of the relationship that Jack and Sheila had but that she didn't have with Jay. "I know that if I had died instead of Sheila, she'd be over here helping you through your grief," said Ruth giving her husband a submissive smile.

Only, an empty shell and nothing more than meaningless words, there was nothing neighborly nor Christian about his wife. A drunk and a whore who was willing to use men with sex to get what she wanted and needed at the time, all she cared about were her cigarettes and booze. With her doing nothing for no one for free, especially her own husband, there was always a catch to her kindness and generosity.

Suddenly, Jay imagined the opposite scenario. Had Ruth died instead of Sheila, he imagined her coming over to his house to do more than just the laundry and the cooking. A good looking woman who didn't look her 62-year-old age, he imagined Sheila fucking and sucking him in the way that Ruth never fucked and sucked him. Here today and gone tomorrow, he couldn't believe when she was diagnosed with cancer and died within a few months.

"You're a good woman, Ruth," said Jay feeling compelled to say something appropriate but not believing that his wife was a good woman, not for a second.

Enjoying the moment and reverting back to when he was a child, he made faces at her from behind his raised newspaper. As if she wasn't even there, he returned to reading his newspaper. As if the wall between them was as thick as the Wall of China, was as high as the Berlin Wall, or armed and fortified as the Israeli Palestinian Wall, she gave her husband a smug smile behind the paper thin wall of newsprint that separated them. Jay didn't have to see her look to feel her look.

"Then, after going there for a while, instead of having me do his laundry and cook him a meal, he just wanted to talk while having a drink," she said pausing as if waiting for his reaction. "Obviously he was lonely and just looking for some female companionship," she said with innocence to veil her real agenda.

Aha! A drink? Bingo, thought Jay. Forget about her comforting Jack and helping him with laundry and cooking in his hour of need, obviously the only reason why she went next door was for the free booze.

"That's nice that you kept him company," said Jay while gritting his teeth behind his newspaper. "That was the neighborly thing to do."

With what she said next adding more fuel to the fire, she gave him a stare that could ignite his newspaper.

"With you working long hours, gone traveling all the time, with Kim away at college, and with me having nothing else to do in this big, empty house, I started going over to Jack's house more frequently," she said. She paused to stare over at his newspaper. "I started visiting him nearly every day. I was lonely," she said wiping away a non-existent, crocodile tear. "And dear Jack was just a friend. Actually, he comforted me as much as I comforted him."

She paused to stare at his newspaper again and seemingly while waiting for his reaction to her going to her neighbor's house more frequently.

'Fucking bitch, he thought. Jay imagined her going over there to tease his poor, old neighbor. With her knowing how enamored with her breasts that Jack was, he imagine his wife leaning over Jack while wearing a low cut, halfway unbuttoned top and flashing him her cleavage and bra.

"That's nice dear," said Jay seething.

He imagined his wife sitting across from Jack on the couch with her knees spread as wide open as were her morals and flashing his friend her panties, if she was even wearing any. 'She's just trying to get a reaction from him,' he thought to himself while making a gagging face as if he was ready to vomit.

"That's really nice dear," said Jay.

He wished he could shoot her in the face through his newspaper. Only, he didn't have a gun. Besides, she wasn't worth spending the rest of his life in jail while she smoked and drank away his life savings.

Falling silent for a moment while obviously collecting her thoughts, she stared at the front side of his newspaper in the way that he stared at the reverse side. Only, he was reading the newspaper or trying to read the paper and she wasn't. If she was reading anything or anyone, she was reading him while playing him and while trying to rile him.

"He enjoyed sitting next to me on the couch while we talked and/or watched TV. You know him. Expressive with his hands, he was always touching me, touching my arm, holding my hand, or squeezing my leg," she said.

She paused again while obviously waiting for Jay's reaction to Jack touching her arm, her hand, and squeezing her leg. When he showed no sign of caring or of even listening to her, she continued.

'Here it comes,' he thought to himself while waiting for her to tell him what really happened.

"That's nice dear," said Jay.

Controlling his anger, he knew she was goading him to get angry. Not wanting to play her game, he refused to react to what she said. Yet, even though he acted disinterested, obviously she knew he'd react to what she said next. As if this was the Ides of March, March 15, 44, and she was Marcus Junius Brutus sticking his knife in Julius Caesar, she nearly fatally stabbed her husband with her tongue and with her words.

"Then, one day, out of the clear blue, he surprised the Hell out of me. Actually, he shocked the shit out of me," she said with a laugh while feigning her embarrassment and modesty.

'What did he do, flash you his cock,' thought Jay while laughing to himself.

Only, he knew that Jack wouldn't disrespect his wife in such an inappropriate way. Nonetheless, feeling the need to ask her the question, at the risk of being vulgar, he asked Ruth his question anyway. Only, angry with her, this was her game that he knew she wanted to play. Now sucked it to being an unwilling contestant in her game, once he started asking her questions and once he started being rudely vulgar and disrespectful of her, he couldn't stop.

"So, tell me. What did he do to surprise the Hell out of you and shock the shit out of you? Did he flash you his cock? Did he wag his stiff prick in your face and expect you to suck him in the way that I always imagine you sucking me but you never do?"

Jay imagined Jack's deceased wife, Sheila sucking him. Only, they never went further than touchy feely and kissing when they were alone in the deep, dark end of the pool. With Jack sleeping in his chair and Ruth sitting beside him drunk on the patio, he probably could have had sex with Sheila in the backyard and they never would have known.

"Oh, my God, Jay," said Ruth laughing. "Jack would never flash me his cock and/or wag his stiff prick in my face."

She paused to give her husband a vindictive smile while he gave her a look of confusion.

"Then what did he do to shock you?"

Jay looked at her with curiosity. He didn't think Jack had it in him to shock anyone. The man was 65-years-old and not in the best health.

"He kissed me," she said with spite.

'He kissed her? Jack kissed her? His friend and neighbor kissed her. God damn it. Rubbing his face in her sordid sexual affairs, now he'll never be able to look Jack in the eye again. Well, she did it. Well played,' he thought silently. 'She upset me, the frigging bitch.'

Jay looked over his newspaper to stare at his wife with jealousy while being sucked into playing her game.

"Kissed you? He kissed you? Jack kissed you? Jack? He kissed you where? Where did he kiss you?"

Acting as if she didn't understand the question even though she obvious did understand his question, Ruth looked at him with confusion before giving him a catty smile.

"He kissed me on the couch when I was sitting next to him," she said giving him another catty smile.

Jay looked at her as if she was stupid when he knew she wasn't. Obviously, she was playing him.

"No, that's not what I meant," he said. "Where did he kiss you? On the hand? On the cheek? On the forehead?" Already knowing her answer, he gulped. "On the mouth?"

Giving her his full attention now, Jay put down his newspaper to stare at his wife.

"Yes," she said.

Waiting for her to say more about what happened with Jack that day, when he knew that was exactly what she wanted to do, he looked at her puzzled.

"Yes what?"

Now that she had his complete attention, she gave him a victorious smile.

"On the mouth. Jack kissed me on the mouth," she said. "He did," she said pausing to stare at him and no doubt his reaction. Sorry," she said when obviously she wasn't sorry for anything at all.

She wasn't sorry that Jack kissed her and she especially wasn't sorry for telling him that Jack kissed her on the mouth. Batting her long eyelashes and looking at him with her big, brown eyes as if she was a virgin instead of the whore that she truly was, she returned his stare with an innocent smile. Trying to remain calm, Jay didn't want to show Ruth that she was getting to him and that she had upset him.

"What kind of kiss was it? Was it a peck on the lips that a father would give his daughter, or a kiss that a man would give a female friend, or a kiss that a man would give his lover?"

She wrinkled her brow before breaking out a smile.

"No father would kiss his daughter in the way he kissed me. Unless they were dating, no man would give a female friend the kiss that Jack gave me. I don't think he'd kiss a friend in the way he kissed me," she said with an annoying, loud laugh. "It was a kiss that a man would give his lover."

Jay folded his newspaper and put it aside to lean forward in his chair while staring at his wife. Already knowing the answer to his question, he asked it anyway.

"What do you mean?"

She smiled at his obvious growing anger.

"He parted my lips with his tongue and French kissed me," she said. "It wasn't a long kiss as much as it was a passionate kiss."

Jay's eyes widened with his eyebrows moving higher and nearly touching his hairline.

"French kissed you? Jack French kissed you? Are you kidding me? That dirty, old man French kissed you, my wife. How dare he?" Ordinarily not believing her if she was anyone else, but he believed her. He stared at Ruth as if she was insane. "And you allowed Jack to passionately French kiss you?"

Ruth nodded her head to all of her husband's questions.

"Yes," she said as if he was her father instead of her husband.

He looked at her as if she was totally nuts. Jay inhaled before blowing out a big, angry breath of air.

"And what did you do when he stuck his tongue in your mouth?"

Not acting shy or embarrassed, she didn't even blush when answering his question.

"What did I do?" She shrugged. "What could I do? Duh? I returned his French kiss, of course," she said as if she just shook his hand instead of French kissing him. "Jesus Jay. It was just a kiss, albeit a French kiss."

Jay's mouth fell open in shock. A man old enough to be her father, twenty years her senior, kissed his wife. Ruth, young enough to be his daughter, twenty years his junior, kissed Jack, his ex-friend and their next door neighbor. He thought he was getting away with murder when he was kissing and feeling up Jack's wife, Sheila, a few years back at the pool party they had. He thought he was getting away with murder when he lifted her bikini top to expose her breast and she stuck her hand down his bathing suit to fondle his cock. Now, payback is a bitch. Obviously to Jay, what's fair for the gander is not fair for the goose.

'What the fuck! What the Hell?'

"I don't believe this. I don't believe you," said Jay. "Why the Hell would you return his French kiss when you should have slapped his face and left his house? Why in the Hell would you French kiss him? He's a short, fat, bald, and homely man. Even more than that, he's an old man. He's at least twenty years older than you."

Ruth rolled her eyes.

"Oh, for God's sakes Jay, it was just a kiss and obviously the man was in mourning. He looked so sad and so lost," she said. "I felt bad for him. He looked so pathetic. Besides, no big deal, what's a kiss between friends?"

Unable to control his anger when sitting, Jay stood and pocketed his hands while pacing the floor in front of her.

"Obviously it wasn't just a kiss between friends but a French kiss, a passionate kiss between a widowed man and my wife," he said with obvious anger. He gave her a hard look. "And after he kissed you, French kissed you, what happened then?"

Now with her tongue as sharp as her words, ready to slice him, she played Mickey the Dunce. She looked up at her husband with innocence while he looked at her with anger.

"Whatever do you mean?"

When she suddenly acted like Tara from Gone with the Wind, he removed his hands from his pockets and put them by his side as if in readiness to strangle her.

"How many times did he kiss you?" He paused and when she didn't immediately answer his question, he was ready to ask another question.

"How many times did he kiss me? Jesus, Jay, I don't know," she said with a shrug of indifference while feigning her ignorance.

This time, unable to harness his impatience while waiting for her to respond to his questions with non-answers, he rattled off several questions in quick succession. 

"Did he touch you sexually? Did you let him touch you sexually? Tell me and be honest, did he feel your tits through your blouse and finger your nipples through your bra while kissing you? Did he grab your ass through your short skirt and panties? Did he stick his hand between your legs and cup your pussy through your panties? Did you allow him to touch you and feel you while kissing you? For Christ sakes, Ruth, tell me. Did you make out with the man?"

With Jay firing questions at her as if his mouth was a machine gun nuzzle, she shook her head in obvious frustration and gave him the same look when he was being impossible.

"Geez Jay. For God's sakes. Chill. Relax," she said letting out a big sigh of self-satisfaction obviously now that he was immersed in her game. Pausing in her answer, she studied her husband while seemingly collecting her thoughts. "It's no big secret. You know how enamored with my breasts Jack is, especially when he sees me in my bikini or whenever I'm wearing a low cut top. Undressing me with his eyes, for years and at every barbeque and pool party we've hosted, he does nothing but stare, leer, and ogle me," she said throwing up her hands and shrugging.

Seemingly already knowing what she was going to say, he looked at her with insight while getting angrier.

"So, what are you saying?"

She shrugged her indifference at his anger while playing the innocent virgin. Only, she was no innocent virgin. His wife was a whore.

"I didn't think there was anything wrong with me comforting Jack by allowing him to make out with me. I didn't think there was anything wrong with me comforting him by allowing him to feel my breasts through my blouse and finger my nipples through my bra."

She looked at him as if he was the crazy one.

"You didn't think there was anything wrong with Jack feeling you through your clothes while French kissing you? Did you forget that you were married to me, Ruth? Did you forget that Jack is my friend and our neighbor? If Jack talks, did you not consider that everyone in the neighborhood will think of you as the drunken whore that you are?"

He looked at her with anger and she returned his look with arrogant self-righteousness.

"Fuck you, Jay! How dare you call me a drunken whore?" With both of them falling silent, she looked at him while softening in her obvious willingness to continue playing her vindictive game. "What's the big deal? It's just tits. It's just my tits," she said removing her pullover top and removing her bra. "So the fuck what if he felt my tits and fingered my nipples."

She sat there topless while Jay stared at her naked breasts. His leering stare obviously made her feel uncomfortable and she put her top back on but not her bra.

"Fucking whore," he said under his breath.

She rolled her eyes and blew out a sigh of frustration.

"Call me what you want. You may think me a whore but I was just comforting a friend," she said letting out a feigned sad sigh. "Finally, while kissing me, fondling my breasts, and fingering my nipples, he finally forget his sadness. He seemed to be really enjoying himself," she said with a dirty laugh.

Even though he knew she was playing him and even though he knew she was trying to get him to react, Jay threw his hands up in the air and stared at her as if she was totally out of her mind.

"Enjoying himself? I bet he enjoyed himself feeling you up through your clothes," he said giving her a long, hard stare. "And tell me this, then. What were you doing while he was feeling your breasts through your blouse and fingering your nipples through your bra? While you were kissing him, French kissing him, and making out with him, and while he was feeling your tits through your blouse and fingering your nipples through your bra, did you feel his cock through his pants?"

Angering Jay even more, she gave her husband another indifferent shrug as if feeling Jack's cock through his pants was no big deal.

"Oh, my God, Jay. You're so juvenile. And so what if I did feel his prick through his pants? I can only imagine what you do while off on all your business trips," she said returning his hard stare. "With him feeling my tits through my blouse and fingering my nipples through my bra, I didn't see anything wrong with returning the sexual favor in feeling his erection through his pants," she said.

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Nothing wrong with you returning the sexual favor? You're my wife. You're not Jack's wife. You're married to me," said Jay.

Obviously knowing she was his wife and not Jack's wife and obviously knowing she was getting to him, playing him even more, Ruth rolled her eyes and sighed as if she was just as annoyed with him as he was with her.

"If you lost your wife, I'm sure you'd want someone there to comfort you," she said giving him a self-effacing yet self-satisfied smile. "I wouldn't be angry, if after I'm dead and buried, you made out with a woman and felt her breasts through her blouse and fingered her nipples through her bra while she felt your cock through your pants. If that made you forget your sadness and your grief, so what? What's the big deal? It's only some innocent kissing, petting, and comforting bonding."

Jay kicked at the magazine rack. For sure, if Ruth died, he wouldn't be sad, he'd be happy. If Ruth died, he wouldn't be grieving, he'd be rejoicing.

"So what? What's the big deal? You're not dead," said Jay now wishing she was. "And you're still my wife and now wishing she wasn't. God damn it. How dare you make out with a man, a much older man, a man old enough to be your father, and allow him to feel your breasts through your clothes while you feel his cock through his pants? What the Hell is wrong with you?"

Ruth rolled her eyes again.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing, Jay," she said. "It was just a little petting, something we all did in Junior High School. I don't even know why you're so angry. You should be happy that I thought enough of your friend to comfort him and to make him feel happy instead of sad."

He looked at her with his face red and his eyes bulging out of his head.

"Jesus Ruth! I can't believe you allowed him to feel your tits through your blouse and finger your nipples through your bra while you felt his cock through his pants and French kissed him," he said talking to her as if scolding her. "Comforting someone is one thing but making out with someone while allowing him to feel you through your clothes are two different things Ruth or do you not understand the difference?"




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #09



She looked at him and sighed.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing Jay," she said. "You're acting like a jealous schoolboy instead of a mature adult. Besides, something that you obviously don't know, but extramarital affairs are a two way street Jay," she said giving him a knowing look that made him wonder if she knew something that he didn't know she knew. "Tell me and be honest, since I'm being honest with you, what do you do when you're away? I'm sure you don't stay in your hotel room and watch TV."

Not answering her, Jay continued pacing back and forth in front of her while staring at her before talking again.

"We're not talking about me right now. We're talking about you," he said pausing before continuing. "Tell me the truth Ruth.

She let out a big breath as is she was bored with the whole ordeal when instead she was having fun pissing off her husband.

"What would you like to know?"

She sat back in her chair to stare up at him in the way that he was staring down at her.

"Did Jack unbutton your blouse? Did you let him unbutton your blouse?" Waiting for her to answer him, he paused to stare at her. When she didn't immediately respond, he asked her questions without pausing to take a breath. "Did he remove your blouse and your bra? Did you allow him to have his wicked sexual way with your breasts? Did he feel your naked breasts? Did he fondle your naked breasts? Did he finger your nipples? Did he suck your tits?"

While Jay loomed over her, staring at her, and pointing his finger of accusation at her, she rolled her eyes and sighed again.

"Jesus Jay, it's just tits. What's the big deal? So he felt my tits, so what? So he fingered my nipples, so what? So, he sucked my tits while I stroked his cock," she said. "So what?"

With his eyes bulging out of his eye sockets, he looked at her as if his eyes were really ready to fall out of his head. Suddenly shocked confusion washed over his face and he stopped pacing to stare at her.

"Wait. Back up. I missed something. Just so that I understand, did you just say that you stroked Jack's cock?" He paused in his interrogation again to stare at her. "Did you masturbate Jack?"

Ruth shrugged again as if it was no big deal.

"Yeah. So? What if I did? It was just a hand job? What's a hand job between neighbors who are good friends," she said without prejudice. 

Jay looked at her as if she was from another planet or wasn't even his wife.

"I don't fucking believe you," said Jay. "God you're such a whore."

Ready to dish him some of her attitude, tossing her head to the side, Ruth gave him a head nod as if telling him to go fuck himself.

"I'm sure you've done more with Jack's wife," she said giving him a hard stare. "You think I'm stupid. You thought I was too drunk to see you and to know what you were doing with Sheila, a sixty-two-year-old woman," she nodded her head up as if telling him to go fuck himself. "Did she remind you of your mother, Jay? Is that why you were kissing her, making out with her, and feeling her body through her bikini?"

Jay looked at her stunned that she knew he had something going with Jack's wife.

"Fuck you," he said. "And you're nothing but a cougar prowling the mall for young, hard cocks while I'm working to keep you in clothes, booze, and cigarettes."

She gave him another victorious smile.

"Waiting for me to get good and drunk, when his wife was alive, your hands were all over her bikini clad body when you two were in the deep, dark end of the pool. You didn't think I saw the way you two looked at one another. I'm sure she had her hand down your bathing suit and around your cock in the way that my hand was down Jack's pants and around his cock," she said giving him a self-satisfied smile.

Suddenly looking guilty that Ruth knew that he had been groping Jack's deceased wife, Sheila, Jay pocketed his hands while pacing the floor again.

"Forget about whatever happened between Sheila and me. We both had too much to drink. Besides, she's dead. She's no threat to you. What's in the past needs to stay dead," he said.

Jay stared at Ruth again. He paused his interrogation of her to study his wife.

"In the way you have a soft spot for prostitutes, you're just as much of a whore monger as I'm a whore," said Ruth.

He wondered how she knew he had a soft spot for prostitutes. Maybe she had gone through his pockets and found some receipts. Or maybe she imagined some of the charges on his credit cards were for something other than their innocuous descriptions.

"Tell me this then and be honest. Tell me the truth. When you were stroking Jack's price while kissing him and allowing him to feel your tits and suck your nipples, did you masturbate him? Did he cum all over your hand?"

She made a sour face as if she had just bitten a lemon.

"Cum all over my hand? Oh, my God," she said making a sour face before laughing. "No of course not? God, you're such and asshole Jay. Do you think I'm a prepubescent teenager in the backseat of a car? What kind of woman do you think I am?"

She paused to give him the fatal stab wound with her tongue and with her words.

"So, you just stroked him but not to completion? Is that it? You sexually teased him in the same way that you sexually just teased me but taking off your blouse and bra and sitting there topless?"

He looked at her with sadness while she looked at him with victory.

"I stroked Jack to completion. He ejaculated, of course, but not on my hand," she said pausing again to make eye contact with him.

With room controlling the stage and with him anticipating the worst, Jay suddenly fell quiet before he asked his obvious question while already knowing the answer.

"In the same way you do with me, you allowed Jack to cum on your tits," said Jay looking at her with a boy whose dog just died. "Is that it? 

She laughed at his vulnerability.

"On my tits? Jack didn't cum on my tits," she said laughing again. "When he was ready to cum, I allowed him to ejaculate in my mouth. He ejaculated his cum in my mouth, Jay," she said as if that was the normal thing to do.

As if he had just been stabbed in the heart, Jay stopped breathing to stare at his wife. He stared at her stunned. He stayed at her with his mouth open. He stared at her as if he couldn't believe what she had just said. 

"What? Are you fucking kidding me? He ejaculated in your mouth? You blew him? You fucking blew Jack? You allowed Jack to cum in your mouth when, after 25-years of marriage, you've never even blown me and allowed me to cum in your mouth?" Afraid to ask his next question, he paused while leering at his wife with rage. "And did you swallow? Tell me you didn't swallow that old man's cum. Did you swallow Jack's semen?"

She shrugged again as if giving her husband's friend a blowjob was no big deal.

"Duh? Of course I swallowed. It's not much of a blowjob if a man doesn't cum in my mouth and if I don't swallow," she said goading him while laughing at him.

As if he had suddenly become mute, Jay stared at his wife. If he had a gun, he would have shot her.

"I don't fucking believe this. I don't fucking believe you," he said while beside himself with rage. "That's just great. You blow Jack, allowed him to cum in your mouth, and swallowed his cum while I'm relegated to only cumming on your tits," he said pointing another stiff finger of accusation at her. 

Now she looked at him as if he was the one who was nuts and indeed he was temporarily insane.

"I don't know why you're so angry," she said stoking his anger.

He looked at her as if he wanted to kill her.

"You don't know why I'm so angry? I'll tell you why I'm so angry. I'm angry because you've never sucked my cock. You've never allowed me to cum in your mouth," he said pausing to make his anger more personal. "You're such a fucking whore for everyone else but for me. Whore!"

With her the winner of this game, undefeated whenever playing sexy games at Jay's expense, she laughed her laugh of victory.

"Whore? Thank you. I take that as a compliment," she said laughing. "Yet, if I'm a whore then what are you? A whore monger? A whore master? Or just a degenerate pervert. What do they call men who can't get enough pussy? What do they call men who only want to have sex with women young enough to be their daughter? What do you call a man who pays for sex?" She gave him another victorious look before pausing in her response. "Besides, me blowing Jack is different from me not sucking you," she said.

He looked at her as if she was crazy.

"Different? Different how? I'm your husband and he's your neighbor. If you should be blowing anyone, you should be blowing me," he said. "If anyone should be cumming in your mouth, I should be cumming in your mouth. If you should swallow anyone's cum, you should be swallowing my cum," he said pointing a stiff index finger at her. 

She leaned back in her chair to give him her explanation.

"In the way that you're suddenly addicted to sex," she said shooting him a look. "Yeah, I know about all the women you've had sex with when traveling. I'm not stupid. If I suddenly started blowing you, you'd want me to suck you all the time. God only knows what diseases I'd get from sucking your cock," she said as if she was right and he was wrong.

Seemingly already defeated, Jay sat in his chair again.

"Forget about not blowing me, you don't even allow me to feel your tits and suck your nipples," he said staring at the impressions her nipples made in her top with her no longer wearing her bra. "Always with an excused, too tired, not now, I have a headache, my nipples are too sore, or I'm getting my period." said Jay.

She shrugged him her answer before responding.

"I don't know. I guess I was horny," she said with a laugh.

He stared at her with hatred. If looks could kill, she'd be dead.

"Why didn't you give Jack an excuse why he couldn't feel your tits and finger your nipples. Why didn't you give Jack an excuse why you couldn't suck his cock? Why didn't you give Jack an excuse why he couldn't cum in your mouth instead of on your tits?

Ruth shrugged her indifference again.

"Once again, that's different. Jack was sad about losing Sheila and I was only trying to help him through his grief. Besides you already had your wicked sexual way with Sheila's big, saggy breasts when she was alive," she said. "I didn't plan on sucking Jack. A spur of the moment thing, one thing just led to another. With me having one too many drinks, it's just happened."

He looked at her with anger. He looked at her with hatred. He looked at her as if he wanted to beat her to death.

"I have a good mind to force you to blow me. I have a good mind to stick my prick in your mouth, put a heavy hand behind your head, and hump your mouth and fuck your face until I cum in your whore of a mouth. Then, I won't let go of you until you swallow my cum."

He looked at her with sexual excitement and she returned his look of sexual arousal with her look of disinterest and boredom.

"If you dare do that to me, I'll cut off your prick while you're sleeping," she said. Ruth folded her hands in her lap while staring up at her husband. "There's one more thing," she said.

Jay stared at her with sudden insightfulness.

"One more thing? What more can there be? What's that? You're leaving me for Jack? Bye," said Jay. "Don't let the door hit you in the ass."

Ruth laughed out loud.

"Of course not. I'd never leave you," she said giving him a big, loving smile. "You're never home long enough for me to leave you," she said laughing. "Besides, I have a good thing going here with you doing your thing while I do my thing," she said pausing to smile lovingly at her husband again. "I'm pregnant."

Jay's mouth fell open while staring at his wife.

"Pregnant? You're pregnant?"

Jay didn't even have to ask the obvious question before Ruth confessed that she had sexual intercourse with Jack.

"And I think it's Jack's baby."

To be continued...

Please vote. Please give me the support of your vote.  



Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #10



Please vote. Please give me the support of your vote.

I dedicate this story to Walter from Southern California.

Author's Note: This is a true story with a happy ending for Jay but a sad ending for Ruth. Even though Ruth was wrong for doing all that she did to Jay, he was wrong for doing all that he did to Ruth. Instead of divorcing early on, they allowed the marriage to continue and while she cheated on him, he cheated on her. Their open marriage worked until Ruth was bringing her work home with her and waving her sexual affairs not only in her husband's face but also in their neighbors' faces too.

*

Always suspecting her of having sexual affairs behind his back, Jay catches his wife, Ruth, red-handed and naked with her young lover, Chris.

The only fly in his ointment, the only thorn in his side, and the only pain in his ass, was his drunken whore of his not so loving wife, Ruth. Some loving wife she turned out to be. A woman who has sex with every man in the neighborhood and beyond but for him. Rejecting him, her own husband, she does sexual things to men she just met that she's never done with Jay. How dare she? Why would she? What's wrong with her to mistreat him in such a bad way?

A selfish, self-centered bitch, she was such an annoying, argumentative cunt. He needed to get rid of her. He needed to divorce her drunken ass. If she wasn't yelling and screaming at him, she was droning on and on about some nonsense that happened yesterday, last week, last month, last year, or years ago. When she's unable to drink in the way she'd like to drink and get drunk whenever he was home, she was mad with anger and mad with lunacy. She was on edge from her withdrawal from alcohol and he's on the verge of finally divorcing her. Enough is enough.

Always belittling him, instead of complimenting him, she had a way of making him feel small and insignificant. Even though he was successful in his career, she made him feel like a loser. When she was the one at fault in the failure of their marriage, she had a way of turning everything that was wrong with their relationship around and pointing the finger of blame at him. How dare she? How could she? More importantly, why did he allow her to get away with that bad behavior for all of these years? Maybe he was more than a sap. With her nothing but a cheating, drunken wife, maybe he was a cuckold husband indeed.

Always throwing it back in his face to start the same argument all over again, she never forgot the slightest provocation, the smallest transgression, and/or the one unthinking, insensitive comment he made against her. Finally now, after all of these years, he saw through her ruse. She started the same, never ending argument because she wanted him out of the house. Whether going to work or traveling, he'd think twice about coming home early. She didn't want him there. She just wanted his money. It was always only about the money.

"Money, money, money," he said mumbling under his breath. 

He thought of Pink Floyd's song, Money, from the album Dark Side of the Moon. Then, he thought of ABBA's song, Money, Money, Money. He thought about the band Dire Straits, Money for Nothing. Seemingly the world had gone made with money. Everything and everyone was all about money.

Forget about love, if Jay didn't have money, he didn't have love or in his case, if he didn't have money, unable to pay his escorts, hookers, call girls, and prostitutes, he wouldn't be having sex. Forget about money, if he didn't have money, he'd have nothing and no one. Then, on the flipside of that coin, if he had too much money, instead of being happy, he'd be sad. Obviously with neither of them happy and with neither of them having any close friends, people only wanted them and liked them for their money. Whether it was his wife, his daughter, his employees, or the women of the night that he had sex with, they all wanted his money.

"Money, money, money," he mumbled under his breath again.

Once she was in a mood for a fight and started her shit, able to block her out, especially when he was sitting in the living room wearing his headphones, he no longer listened to her drunken diatribe and poisonous pontification anyway. Yet, unable to cut the tension with a knife, it was so thick with hatred, the atmosphere was poisonous. Surprised she never tried to murder him in his sleep, without her even saying a word, he could feel her lunacy, her anger, and her rage.

His safe harbor was not when he was at home but when he was in his car, at work, on a plane, or in a hotel room. His loving person was not his wife but a call girl, an escort, a prostitute, or a hooker. He received more interaction, intimacy, and sex from female strangers than he ever did from his supposed loving wife. Even though the never ending line of women of the night made him feel good, as soon as he returned home, his wife made him feel bad. He felt so free when he was traveling the country and the world to only feel so trapped once he returned home.

He dreaded coming home to her. Hoping she wasn't there but staying over some man's house that she was fucking and sucking, he dreaded even seeing his wife again. Instead of loving her, he hated her. He hated the disappointed and intolerant look she always had on her face. He hated the sound of her voice. The sound of her voice was like having to listen to ten, obnoxiously loud women all talking at him at the same time. Truly, with his wants, needs, and feeling not making her list of important considerations, everything was always all about her.

After having watched so many reruns of Ozzie and Harriet, Father Knows Best, The Donna Reed Show, Leave it to Beaver, and the Walton's, he had imagined living that life with his wife one day. Only, his home life wasn't a made for TV family show. Even though he comfortably lived the good life in a big house in suburbia, because of Ruth, sometimes he felt as if he lived in Hell. He even checked his address to make sure that the number on his house wasn't 666.

Ruth was a drunk and a whore. He wished she'd leave him. He needed to leave her. He wished she'd go for good. He needed to go for good. He wished she'd die. She made him wish he were dead. Only, if he had to see her in Hell when he died, then he wished he'd live forever.

* * * * *

Because of his upbringing and how he perceived a marriage should be, he had an impossibly difficult time making the final decision to divorce her. No one in his family divorced, not his grandparents, nor his parents, nor his brother, nor his sister. Even though they were all unhappy, miserable actually, for the sake of the house, the children, and money, they stayed together as they vowed to do. Only, he wanted something more than dread and misery. He wanted love and happiness.

"...Until death do you part," he said shaking his head in sadness.

No doubt, the end of their marriage would have happened years ago, had he not quit his job as a college, physical chemistry professor to take a more lucrative position as the President of a Fortune 500 company. The fact that he traveled so much and was seldom home, made their relationship much more tolerable. With him not home to listen to her shit, he'd be off having sex with young women in the way that she'd be home having sex with young men. Quite by accident, with her doing her thing and him doing his thing, their marriage had morphed from the worst marriage possible to a dream marriage.

Just as Ruth became impossible and his marriage became intolerable, he was on his way out the door to the airport to catch a flight. Just as he thought he'd go mad having to listen to Ruth talking to him and complaining at him, he was living out of a suitcase in some hotel or motel with a paid escort by his side. Then, whenever he returned home from traveling, a happy ending he enjoyed having, he imagined her not being there. He imagined coming home to an empty house. He imagined living alone or living with a woman who truly loved him for the man that he was. He wouldn't even care if Ruth took all of the furniture, just as long as she'd leave and never return.

"Bye! Good riddance! Don't worry about the door hitting you in your ass, I'll just kick your ass to the curb," he imagined saying to her.

A fantasy he had when on his way home on the plane, he wished she'd pack her bags and takeoff with some, young guy she had been fucking and sucking. Immediately changing his mood from being content to being angry and to being anxious, he spotted Christopher's car parked across from his house. His first impulse was to flatten his tires or to concoct some sort of flammable, chemical solution that would combust as soon as he started his car.

Having to give him credit for that, at least he didn't have the gall to park his car in the driveway. He just hoped they weren't up in his bedroom. Judging by the light in the front of the house, he figured they were still in the living room having sex or sleeping after having sex and after getting drunk. Whenever he went away, she was always drunk. While he was working to give her the lifestyle she had grown accustomed to living, fucking, sucking, and drinking was what she did the entire time he was gone.

"God, I'm such a sap. If she's not the epitome of a cheating wife and if I'm not a cuckold husband than I don't know what is," he said talking to himself while sitting in the back of his cab.

Explaining why they've all been so standoffish lately, the neighbors seeming all knew his wife was having extramarital affairs with men whenever he traveled. How could they not know with the men in and out of his house whenever he was away? People aren't stupid and with Ruth complaining to anyone who'd listen, they all knew that she was unhappy. Besides, with some of her boy toys staying overnight whenever his daughter wasn't home, how could his neighbors not know that his wife was cheating on him? As if she was a dirty dog, with her always drunk and howling at the moon, a bitch in heat, always there were men sniffing around his wife. At the chance of bedding a MILF, an older woman, a cougar with a hot body, there were always young men ready and willing to exchange booze for sex.

* * * * *

With his wife a real cum slut, just for curiosity sake, he wished he could have measured all of the cum his wife had swallowed over the years. He wished he could have measured all of the cum that young men ejaculated in her mouth, in her hand, in her pussy, and no doubt, in her ass. No doubt, he probably could fill a 42 gallon barrel of the hundreds, maybe even thousands, of men's cum that she's sucked and fucked over the years. Only, to make matters worse, what she willingly does for other men, she refused to do for him. How dare she so disrespect him by denying him sex? Strangers she just met, men who aren't her husband, and men who don't mean anything to her in the way that he obviously doesn't mean anything to her, she gives them sex when she won't give him sex. 

Hard to believe but true, never had she sucked his cock. Nope, not once, never, ever had she taken his erect prick past her lips and in her mouth. Never had she allowed him to fuck her in her ass, not that he would as anal sex doesn't appeal to him. Yet, maybe he would if she allowed him to fuck her in her ass. He couldn't even remember the last time he ejaculated in her pussy. Unable to even remember when they had sex last, it's been years since they had sex. Thank God she denied him sex, actually. He'd probably get Herpes or worse from sticking his cock in her.

She didn't even have to confess for him to know she had been unfaithful. It was obvious to him that there was something going on behind his back. With his daughter, Kim, on his side and always in his corner, overly protective of her father against her mother, no doubt feeling conflicted, she sometimes told him all that had happened when he was traveling and not home. Kim sometimes overheard her mother's telephone conversations or had seen men coming to the door looking for her mother. Brazen enough to do so, some of these men think that they can just show up at his front door at any hour of the day or night looking for Ruth and looking for sex.

"Ruth! Ruth! Open the door. I brought booze," said more than one of her lovers. "I'm horny. I need to fuck you. I need you to blow me. Ruth? Hey Ruth! Open the door."

Always it ended with the neighbors calling the police and her lover being arrested for being drunk, disorderly, and disturbing the peace. If only for public appearance sake, he wished she'd be more discreet. He wished she just leave. He wished she'd just die.

With the neighbors suspecting his wife of being a cheating slut and a cock sucking whore, her being an unfaithful wife was one thing but her being a cunt by rubbing his neighbors' noses in her dirty laundry was something else. Moreover to actually see Chris's car parked in front of his house while knowing he was inside of his house with his wife and no doubt inside of his wife was demoralizing, emasculating, and a blow to his ego. Obviously, with him still there at this late hour and probably too drunk to drive home, he was Ruth's overnight guest. Now forgetting about work and his trip, all he could think of was his wife fucking and sucking Christopher and God knows who else during the time he was away in Japan on business.

* * * * *

Jay hated the man. He hated that Chris was in his house when he wasn't there. If it wasn't enough that Chris was sexually using his wife, he hated that he may be touching his things and going through his personal, private stuff. He hated that he was getting from his wife what she denied giving him. It's not fair that she fucks and sucks all of these men when she doesn't suck and fuck him. With him supporting her, that's just not right. If she wants to have her nasty, drunken affairs that's fine with him but the least she could do is to suck his cock, allow him to cum in her mouth, and allow him to treat her as the whore that she is.

Torturing himself by thinking of all the dirty and nasty sexual details they were doing behind closed doors, he wondered if Ruth allowed Chris and all of her men to feel and fondle her breasts while fingering and sucking her nipples. No doubt, she does. Of course she does. Why wouldn't she deny them feeling and fondling her breasts while fingering and sucking her nipples in the way she denies him feeling and fondling her breasts while fingering and sucking her nipples? She's proud of her breasts. She loves her big, shapely breasts.

With her no longer allowing him to touch her tits or finger her pussy, he loved her breasts as much as he used to love eating her pussy. When they were dating and were first married, he used to bury his face in her bushy, brown pussy while reaching up to feel and fondle her breasts and pull, turn, and twist her nipples. She loved having her pussy licked and fingered. She had beautiful, shapely breasts, a large B, small C rack and he loved sucking on her nipples. Only, a long time since they had sex, he couldn't remember when she allowed him to have his wicked, sexual way with any part of her naked body. He couldn't remember when he felt her tits and fingered her nipples, never mind remembering the last time she allowed him to lick her pussy.

When he paid for everything, how dare she so blatantly disrespect him by having sex with others in his house of all places? When she denied him sex, how could she have sex with other men and not have sex with him, her own husband? When she acted like she doesn't even like sex, why would she suck and fuck other men instead of him? Maybe she loved sex but just not with him. Maybe with him not drinking with her anymore, she needed to be drunk to have sex with him. When he was good to her, kind with her, patient with her, and generous with her, what was wrong with him that she rejected him to have sex with others?

"You're no fun," she said to him more than once while she sipped her third martini and only stopped her drinking to eat one of her olives.

If how she lived her life was her idea of fun, drunk and whoring around, he didn't want any part of her fun. Memories that kept him sexually sated, he harbored the memories of having sex with all of those young, Japanese women. He saved the memories of all of those other women he bedded across the country. He no longer needed his wife to give him sex. Now, even if she offered him sex, just out of principle, hurt, stubbornness, hatred, and the shame of her having rejected him, he'd be the one to reject her.

Just once, in the way she always turned away from him in bed and left him horny and sexually frustrated, he'd love to turn his back to her and leave her horny and sexually frustrated. Only now that they had separate bedrooms, any time he wants sex, he'd masturbate himself while thinking of the all the women he had sex with and all the women he'd like to bed. Only, if ever he rejected her for sex in the way she always rejected him for sex, knowing her in the way he now does, she'd be spiteful. She'd be revengeful. She'd fuck and suck one of his neighbors or one of his friends just to upset him. If his brother and father didn't live so far away, no doubt, she'd have sex with them too. He was surprised she didn't have sex with some of his employees.

If he rejected her for sex, no big deal to her, she'd just get what she sexually needed from someone else. She had several longtime lovers that he knew about over the years, some were his friends and others were his neighbors? She had even gotten herself pregnant by another man, his neighbor and ex-friend, Jack, but fortunately, she lost the baby. He should have kicked her ass to the curb then. He should have divorced her ass then. Foolishly, he was willing for her to have the baby. Foolishly, he was willing to pay for the upbringing of someone else's child.

He wondered just how many other men she had sex with that he didn't know about. Elephants in his bed, in his head, and on his living room sofa, he never asked her about her affairs and she never volunteered any information about her lovers. He'd rather remain ignorant to all that she does when he was not around. He'd rather not know. The last thing he wanted to hear was her pillow talk about all the men that she fucked and sucked.

When they were together, they acted like any other, normal, married couple. Yet, even back then, strangely odd, even though she gave him sex, she never sucked his cock. Even though she was nearly two years older than he was, she preferred having sex with younger men. When they were first together, she had sex with him but that all stopped when he turned 30-years-old. She preferred having sex with men in their 20's instead of having sex with men in their 30's or older. Jack was her last exception to her rule of bedding younger men.

* * * * *

When his daughter was away at school for a while and he was working and/or away traveling, for all that he knew or cared, Ruth could have had a whole houseful of men. He wondered why she was even still with him, obviously for the money, the health insurance, and for the financial security. With him nothing more than her human ATM machine, the last straw was seeing Chris's car parked across the street. A visual reminder that he needed to divorce her, he was really done with her now. He'd see a divorce attorney in the morning. A longtime coming, after 25 years, their marriage was now officially over. He should have gotten rid of her years ago.

Fuming and feeling as if steam was coming out of his ears, not because she cheated on him but because she continually used him and constantly abused him, he was seething in the backseat of the cab. With her done with him years ago and with him finally done with her now, he didn't care that she was having sex with others. He didn't care that she was drinking herself to death. He didn't care that she was fucking and sucking his neighbors, his friends, and/or the small army of young men she picked up at the mall and God only knows where else and who else.




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #10



Much more than that, her numerous, sexual affairs were as if she continually kicked him in the balls over and again. For her to rub his nose in her shit by bringing these men home with her and to his house was a blow to his dignity, a slap to his masculinity, and a hit to his manhood. How dare she so disrespect him when he's still financially supporting her? If that was her intention of showing him that she was the queen bitch, the boss of him, and that he was a nothing and a no one, she had done a good job at that.

By her rejecting him for sex, she made him feel small. By her having sex with other men without caring who saw her and who knew she was unfaithful to him, she made him feel powerless. If not for him then for her own reputation, she could have been more discreet, especially in front of their neighbors and especially by not having sex with his friends and the husbands of their neighbors. He heard through the neighborhood, gossip grapevine that she's been seen at the mall, in bars, at the movies, and even in the grocery store with men. Men, men, men, his wife had surrounded herself with horny, young men. She had immersed herself in sex and had drowned herself in two olive, gin Martinis. 

Whenever she denied him the pleasure of sex, it was as if she kicked him hard in the balls again and again, stomped on his head, and sat on his chest while pummeling his face with her fists. Having to ask her for sex and only to be denied, he felt emasculated, he felt embarrassed, he felt humiliated, and he felt ashamed. After a while, not wanting to put himself through the rejection again, he stopped asking. With him already playing his hand and with her always trumping whatever card he put down, and with her knowing that he had no other cards to play, she still had cards left to play. With her always holding all of the cards, even though he was the man and she was the woman, it was always his game to lose and her game to win.

Something her other men never had to do, he literally had to beg her for sex, and she still refused him and rejected him by having sex with someone younger. Even then, complaining that her nipples hurt, that she had her period, or that she had a headache, she wouldn't even allow him the pleasure of playing with her tits, sucking on her nipples, or even eating her pussy. The sap of a cuckold husband that he is, he finally felt grateful when his drunken whore of a wife allowed him to cum on her tits and not even in her mouth. He was a fool to allow her to make him feel so powerless when he controlled all of the power. He had the money. She didn't. With the house in his name, she lived in his house.

Tomorrow, before he hires a divorce attorney, he'll go to the bank, clean out the joint accounts, and put the house in his daughter's name. That way, when he leaves her, she can't derive any monetary benefit from the sale his house. Something she'd probably no doubt do, she won't be able to move some man in the house and sell him his house for a case of gin and a case of vermouth.

Tomorrow before he even talks to her about wanting a divorce, he'd cancel all of her credit cards. Now she'd have to walk the streets, stand on a corner, or hang around a downtown bar to get her booze. Let one of her many boyfriends keep her afloat in booze because he's done supporting her. Now, without him supporting her, she'd finally have to revert to the whore that she really is to buy her booze. Now, without him supporting her, she'd have to do something she hasn't done in twenty-five years. She'd have to get a job. 

"Done. I'm tired of her shit."

He was angry. He was hurt. He didn't know what else to do with his feelings and with her but to divorce her and to finally kick her cheating ass out of his house. He needed to put her behind him so that he could go one alone without his wife and with his life. With enough, enough, it's about time he took a stand. With enough, enough, tired of putting up with all of her bullshit, all of her lovers, all of her empty gin and vermouth bottles, and the stale smell of her cigarettes stinking up the house, he was just tired of her insanity. From the day of their wedding when she had sex with his best man in the backseat of the limo during their reception, she had never been a faithful wife.

"Fucking bitch," he said under his breath. "Drive to the corner," he said to the driver with impatience. "I'll walk home from there."

The driver drove to the corner of his street and stopped.

"That's thirty-two dollars and seventy-five cents," said the driver.

"Here's forty. Keep the change," said Jay alighting from the cab.

* * * * *

With his last meeting cancelled, he was able to get an earlier flight home. Knowing she wouldn't even answer his call, he didn't even bother calling her to tell her that he'd be home early. He had posted his schedule with flight times and flight numbers on the refrigerator but now with all of that changed, Ruth thought he'd be home early tomorrow evening instead of late tonight. She had no idea that he was already here and standing out front with suitcase in hand. Obviously, with Chris here at this hour, she never expected him to be home tonight.

'Surprise!'

It was late and with all of his neighbor's lights off, obviously they were all in bed sleeping. The only light on the whole street was a dim nightlight in his living room. Rather than go through the front door and ruin their private, little, drunken party, an affair that he'd rather not see, he walked down the driveway and quietly entered his house through the backdoor. Feeling even more emasculated, he never had to enter his own house through the backdoor when Chris, no doubt, entered his house through the front door.

As if he was a burglar entering through the backdoor, he was hoping to sneak in his house undetected and get in bed without her knowing he was home. With her downstairs in the front of the house and him upstairs in the back of the house, no doubt with her drunk and busy having sex with her young lover or sleeping, she'd never hear him flush the toilet before getting in bed. Besides, an old toilet and even older plumbing, as if the house was haunted with a ghost going to the bathroom, sometimes it flushed by itself anyway.

Hopefully she'd stay asleep drunk on the couch with Christopher and, not having to hear her voice, he'd have peace and quiet the rest of the night. Then, early tomorrow, before she had awakened from her drunken stupor, he'd take a shower, get dressed, and go to the office. With her oblivious to what he does, she'd probably think that he's still away on business. With her oblivious to his schedule, she'd probably still think he was still in Japan on business.

Business? Unable to be completely angry at her over her extramarital affairs because of his extramarital shenanigans, his business trips had turned into monkey business trips lately. With him traveling the country and all over the world, as if a sailor having women in every port, he had a bevy of women everywhere, mostly paid prostitutes and escorts, who willingly would do whatever his wife wouldn't. With her having an unlimited supply of young lovers, he had an unlimited supply of beautiful, young women. If only she knew that he was as unfaithful as she was, wouldn't that shock her. If only she knew that he had sex with as many young women as she had sex with young men, she'd probably want to divorce him in the way that he can't wait to divorce her. She wasn't the only one who knew how to play this game.

Yet, what's the difference with him paying a woman to give him sex when he pays his wife and puts up with her not giving him sex? He needed to get rid of her. Tired of giving her money and paying for her to cheat on him, she was preventing him from being happy with someone else. He needed to get rid of her. He needed to find some other woman who wants him, who appreciates, who respects him, and who will give him sex.

After divorcing Ruth, if he had to pick just one woman to marry and spend the rest of his life with, he was particularly fond of Esmeralda from El Paso, Texas. A mixed Mexican and American Indian woman who allowed him to do any sexual thing to her busty body as long as he paid her. Even after comparing her to all of those young, sexy, submissive Japanese woman who gave him incredible sex, it was Esmeralda who sexually satisfied him the most. Even more than the sex, always laughing and teasing, they had fun. More than him paying her money for sex, she obviously liked him as much as he liked her.

With sex something his wife should be doing for him with all the money he gives her, his wife should be allowing him to do any sexual thing to her that he wants to her shapely, sexy, naked body. Only, she saved her sexual favors for her young lovers and not for him. She trades sex for alcohol. With all the money he has given his wife without even having sex, he could give a small fraction of that to Esmeralda and have sex day and night. There are plenty of women, and just one, special woman, who'd be grateful to have someone like him in their life.

* * * * *

While listening to hear if they heard him, Jay undressed in the dark. After sleeping in a hotel bed for nine nights, he couldn't wait to sleep in his own bed. Then, when he finally fell back on his bed, it felt so good to sleep on his own mattress and put his head on his own pillow. Before nodding off, he sat up in bed listening to the quiet while wondering what they were doing downstairs. What was she doing to Chris that she refused to do with him? Except for the soft music that emanated from the living room, he didn't hear anything else.

As if he could hear them having sex, imagining them having sex when he couldn't hear them from where they were and from where he was in the house, he imagined Ruth fucking and sucking Chris in the way she'd never fuck and suck him. Still hurting him to think of her having sex with someone else and rejecting him, as soon as he had the thought of her fucking and sucking Chris, he purged it from his mind before getting angry all over again. She was such a dirty, drunken whore. He could only imagine how many men she had sex with while he was gone. He could only imagine how many men she had sex with in the 25 years they were married.

He didn't like having a stranger in his house while he slept and decided to do what his daughter did every night before turning out her light. Whether or not her mother was alone or with someone, she locked her bedroom door and he now did too. Should his drunken wife persuade her drunken boyfriend to murder him in his sleep for the insurance money, he'd have to breakdown his bedroom door. A light sleeper, even if Chris had the key to his bedroom, he'd hear him unlocking his door to give him enough time for him to reach for his handgun in the nightstand drawer. The best thing he ever did was to sleep in separate bedrooms to not have to smell the stench of her foul alcohol and cigarette laced breath.

Not a violent man but suddenly an angry man, he had the urge to beat her. If only fantasizing about giving her a beating, the thoughts of beating the crap out of her made him feel more like a man. The thoughts of her bruised, bloodied, and in pain made him feel more like the man of the house. If he wouldn't be arrested and have to spend a stint in jail while she continued in her drunken behavior and sexual lifestyle, he'd love to punch his wife in the face. He'd love to blacken both her eyes, loosen her teeth, break her jaw, and make her ugly enough that no one would ever want to have sex with her again, not even him, especially not him. He'd love to strangle her to death after hitting her over the head with an empty gin bottle. Every time she disrespected him, he wished he could beat her and shove her down the cellar stairs and lock the door behind her.

Even better than beating her and making her ugly, he suddenly had the urge to force himself on her. He suddenly had the urge to violently strip her naked. He suddenly had the urge not to have sex with her but to violently rape his own wife. He suddenly had the urge to fuck her, really fuck her hard without her even being wet. Then, when he was done fucking her dirty cunt, without taking the time to lubricate her, he'd turn her over and fuck her cheating ass.

"Yeah, that will teach her," he said out loud for no one to hear. "Payback is a bitch, bitch!"

He suddenly had the urge to do all of the vile, dirty, and nasty sexual things that she refused to do with him but willingly did with everyone and anyone else. Only, just as he'd never beat his wife or any woman, he'd never raped his wife or any woman. Still, a violent fantasy he enjoyed having, he relished the thought of exerting his physical payback on her, his bitch of a cheating whore, drunken wife.

"God, she's such a frigging drunken whore," he said talking to himself. "I can't believe I married her. I still can't believe she had sex with my best man, my best friend, on my wedding day."

Enjoying the violent fantasy of raping his wife, he had the same fantasy again. Forcing her to blow him, with her never blowing him and never allowing him to cum in her mouth, he imagined putting a heavy hand to the back of her head while humping her mouth and fucking her face. Forcing her to suck him, he imagined not letting go of her until he not only ejaculated every drop of his cum in her mouth but also until she swallowed ever drop of his cum. He imagined stripping her naked, mounting her, forcing himself inside of her, and pounding her pussy without even making her wet. Then, he imagined turning her over and fucking her in her ass in the way she's been allowing other men to fuck her in the ass. He imagined fucking her in the ass in the way that she's been fucking him in his ass for the last twenty-five, bloodsucking years.

"Fucking bitch! Fucking cunt," he said for no one to hear yet he felt better saying it and getting it out of his system.

Only, even though he wanted to do all of that to her and more, rape her before beating her, he'd never do any of that to her. He couldn't do that to her. He wasn't a monster in the way she was a demon, the Devil in disguise. Definitely with whatever color dress she wore, Devil in the red dress, black dress, blue dress, or green dress, she was a She-devil of a whore.

Perhaps had he not been already sexually satisfied by a dozen, young Japanese women over the last nine days, he'd be sexually frustrated enough to have his violent, sexual way with his wife. Perhaps finding Chris in his house, he would have ordered him out at gunpoint. Yet, when he had dined on young, beautiful, Japanese flesh in Japan, why have smelly fish at home by having forced sex with his wife? Why would he want an old, drunken bitch when there are plenty of other young, beautiful woman who'd be happy to take his money in exchange for sex?

"Dirty bitch! That will teach you. Fucking, drunken whore! That will fix you. You wait and see," he said for no one hear while pounding a fisted hand in the air. "Soon I'll divorce your nasty ass."

* * * * *

He had grown accustomed to her fucking and sucking every man she knew. He had grown accustomed to her fucking and sucking even men she didn't know, had just met, and brought home from the mall. He didn't even mind it when Jack, his so-called friend, had sex with his wife. He was busy having his pole waxed with other, young woman anyway to be concerned with what she did when he wasn't home. Besides, Jack was a lonely, broken man after his wife, Sheila, died and Ruth comforted him while drinking with him more than she had sex with him. She confessed that she allowed him to feel, fondle, and suck her tits while giving him a hand job for a bottle of gin and a bottle of vermouth. With Jack bald, not very good looking, and obese, he didn't think she'd do any more than that with him.

Then, she told him the truth. She confessed her outrageous extramarital affair with his friend and neighbor. She sucked Jack's cock and allowed him to cum in her mouth in the way she never sucked him and allowed him to cum in her mouth. She confessed that she fucked Jack and it was he who made her pregnant. Thank God, she lost the baby. That was one less complication in his way of divorcing her and ridding his life of her for good.

In the way that Chris was 22 years younger than her, Jack was eighteen years older than her. With Ruth 47-years-old and Chris 25-years-old, there was just no way that he could complete with a much younger man, not that he even wanted to compete with any man for Ruth. Only, there was a long line of others using his wife's hand, mouth, pussy, and ass while she used them to get herself drunk. With him no longer giving her the money to buy booze and with her not willing to go to Alcohol Anonymous meetings, these men all brought bottles of booze with them.

A cheap fuck and with both parties seemingly happy, she used them for booze and they used her for sex. Especially with her being the cheating wife, seemingly everyone was happy in his convoluted relationship but for him, the cuckold husband. Yet, now that he did his sexual thing with young, beautiful women all over the country and around the world, he didn't care that she did her sexual thing with men young enough to be her sons. He was glad that she was occupied with young men while he was away.

Officially and finally done with her, it was over between them. He just needed to file for a divorce to make it official. She could go fuck herself for all that he cared. One day soon, he'll be divorcing her cheating ass. One day soon, he'll find someone else to love him, respect him, and give him sex.

One day soon, someone will find her dead from alcohol poisoning or liver failure. Hopefully, she won't survive the ambulance ride to the hospital. Hopefully, she'd die drunk. She'd finally be out of his hair, a respectable divorced and widowed man, he'd be free and single again. Hopefully with her out of his mind, his heart, and his house, she'd die alone not long after he divorced her.

"Frigging cheating bitch. Cheating drunken whore. Fucking whore! I hate you. I so fucking hate you," he said pounding his fist in the air. "I hope you die. I can't wait until I divorce your cheating ass."

If he was ten years younger he'd go downstairs, beat the shit out of Chris, throw him out of his house, and kick Ruth out of his house too. Only with him 45-years-old and Chris 25-years-old, Chris would be the one giving him a beating. He'd shoot them both dead but neither one of them are worth the cost of the bullets and the price of him going to jail. So long as he didn't kill her, knowing Ruth, she'd love for him to be put behind bars while she drank her way through his lifesavings. 

Instead of confronting them and making a scene that would wake up the neighbors and have them call the police, he pulled out his cock and started masturbating himself while thinking about violently raping her before beating the piss out of her. He stroked himself faster while thinking of how it was when he first met Ruth. With him a virgin, so young and so innocent, he fell in love with Ruth the first time he saw her. What did he know then? He didn't know any better. Having never met anyone like her, he thought she was good, loving, and kind. He had no idea she become a drunken whore of a bitch.

Yet, at the very least by the things she did, by the things she said, and with her denying him sex, he should have known that she didn't love him. Now that he thought about it, she never loved him. Even when they were first dating, with her never allowing him to go all the way, they never had the sexual relationship that young lovers should have had. He should have known that it was a horrible mistake marrying her. He should have dumped her ass 25-years ago. Only, with him working for a company that was as straight laced as IBM, he was worried about how divorcing her would hurt his career.




Cheating Wife & Cuckold Husband #10



Filled with guilt and sadness, Jay remembered the first time he met her their first year in college. An older woman, he was barely 18-years-old and she was 19-years-old, almost 20-years-old. She was tall, 5'8" and was a shapely 120 pounds. Even though she wasn't an American Indian, with her long, straight, dark, lush hair, the shape of her face, especially the shape of her nose, was reminiscent of a squaw. Back then, she was his squaw and he used to joke with her about that, especially when watching western movies. When watching the Lone Ranger, he'd call her his sidekick, and his Tonto.

* * * * *

With her having a better divorce attorney than he did and with her playing the cheating husband card and able to prove his affairs more than he could prove her affairs, she got his house in the divorce settlement. Yet, that was okay. He was happy to rid his life of her.

Seemingly, even though Ruth got what she wanted, the house and Jay out of her life, the legal end of their marriage was more than just a divorce. It was a punctuation mark that denoted the end of her life. It was just up to her when she'd keel over and die. With her still drinking and now drinking more than ever before, it was only a matter to time before Ruth would drink herself to death. 

Five years after he divorced Ruth and was married to his second wife, Julie, his daughter, Kim, found her mother dead at the kitchen table. Even though he was relieved that she was finally and totally out of his life, he was sad. Remembering some of the good times, she wasn't all bad. Who was he kidding? She was a nightmare.

Yet, if he knew what he knew now then, he never would have married her. He never would have subjected himself and his daughter to Ruth but then the daughter he loves would never have been. His daughter was the only good thing that had come from marrying Ruth, the only good thing.

"Rest in peace Ruth. I'm glad you're finally gone," said Jay when tossing a single rose in her open grave.

THE END

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Cheating Wife: Back Alley Bitch



++++++++++++++

This is a stand-alone story. You do not need to read any other 'Cheating Wife' story of mine to understand this one. 

++++++++++++++

My Mama always told me that if you love what you do, it isn't work. If I got paid for what I most love to do, however, I'd get arrested. So I chose the next best option: if you can't do it, at least be near it.

My job also allowed me to be in costume, which conceptually I adore. Each day I dressed in scrubs, constrained my hair in a net, and hid most of my face behind a mask. I spoke few words, collected little cultural information, and ferried hope between rooms.

It's that hope that I love. 

------------------------------



From behind my mask I collected details. "Is this your name and date of birth?"



"It is." His voice – deep and strong – fit his body type perfectly. 



"How long have you abstained?"



"4 hours."



We have a prescribed response for an answer like this. "It is recommended that you wait 48 hours."



"I've heard."



With nothing further to add, I directed him into the room. "The specimen cup is on the table. Once complete, please flip the switch in room. When you have left, I will collect your sample."



------------------------------



I was morbidly curious about this sample. 



After only 4 hours, his specimen jar held 18 mL! 5mL is normal, 10 mL is high, 18 mL is off the charts. In all my time at the clinic, I'd seen nothing like it. And the records kept tumbling. 



The number of motile sperm per milliliter in his sample was 417 million, far more than expected. All told, he left 7.5 billion swimming rays of hope with me. 



Now I felt bad for him – the reproductive problem was not with him. If his partner thought the problem wasn't hers, she was going to be sorely discomforted.

------------------------------



She didn't give up though. He visited the clinic consistently enough to predict an eventual unhappy outcome. During this time his numbers remained fairly constant, but I changed the data collecting procedure.

"I'm sorry. I recognize you, but our new procedure requires that I check your name against your license. "He didn't put up a fight, I checked his name, and memorized his address. 

And then I followed him. It took me less than a week of vacation time to determine his habits. From 7-3 he worked at Gold's Gym as a personal trainer, from 3-5 he visited a gentleman's club, and from 5 onward he did whatever it was he did at home. 



------------------------------



At 3:25 I entered The Glass Slipper, identified him sitting near the stage, and made my way across the room. He looked at me, but did not recognize me. And how could he? 



Gone were my scrubs, and in their place I wore my favorite white Angel BodyWear dress. Its neckline plunges to an inch over my bellybutton, its back absent save for the crisscross tie, its full length stretching just slightly beyond my ass. 


He couldn't take his eyes off me. 


I walked slowly towards him, allowing him to see my ease in 4" high heels. My pumps were white, with a shocking red heel that matched perfectly my lipstick. A ribbon, too, holding my blonde hair in place, matched this color.

"Is this seat mine?" I asked.

"It is, if you're not a cop."



I assured him. "I'm not."

"And you're not working?"

"No. I'm not a prostitute."

"Then what are you doing here?"



I knew he'd accept any story I told. "My girlfriend and I had a bet, and now I'm supposed to blow a stranger." I maintained eye contact with him as he considered my words. I spoke before he could. "Are you feeling ... strange?"



"If you're serious, pretty lady, I'm feeling very strange."



I smiled at him. "I'm serious."



------------------------------



He took my hand and led me toward the door. "Do you live close by?"



"No. And I'm not taking you home."

He kept us walking toward the door, as if stopping would change my plans. 

"How about your car, then?"

"No, not there either."

"Well then where?" He asked, a little frustration rising in his voice.

"I don't care. All I need is a little space."

He hesitated to ask, but he was running out of ideas. "You cool with the alley?" 



I kept pace with him, and answered him sincerely. "That sounds perfect."



------------------------------



The alley was filthy, but well hidden. He stopped, turned towards me, but I made the first move. With both hands resting upon his tight stomach, I pushed his back up against the wall.

I rested my ass on my heels, and grasped his belt. I stared him in his eyes. I undid his buckle, pulled the belt from his body, unbuttoned and then unzipped his pants, and pulled them beyond his hips. I used sufficient force to ensure that his boxers were similarly pulled from my goal. 



I caught his penis, mid flight, as it sprung forward. I was pleased that the delivery mechanism was as impressive as the product. He was long, thick, and hard – three of the best words to describe a man. 



I pulled the head my lips, but didn't allow it passage. I just stroked his cock, stared at him, and kept the head rested between my lips. He accepted this for a few minutes, but his patience fled, and my bull emerged.

He grabbed my hair and forced entry into my mouth. Grabbing him now between both hands, I let his own thrusts determine the stroke rate; I focused on sucking as much of him into my mouth as I could. His power was intoxicating, and our passion undeniable.

But his body was predictable, and each time he got close I pushed him away. I did this with my teeth, with a squeeze to the scrotum, or the plucking of a hair. Recognizing that his needs would not be met with me on my knees, he demanded: "Face the wall."



I protested just enough to ensure that he wouldn't pursue me later. "But ..."



"But nothing, face the fucking wall, I need this."



Continuing my act, I pleaded. "I shouldn't ... you can't ..." And then he did.

No time passed, and yet movement occurred. My panties were taken and discarded. My arousal was discovered, penetrated, and when two wet fingers were removed, the head of his penis took their place. His hands, rough and powerful, grasped my hips. He drove into me while pulling me to him.

His thrusts were rapid, extreme. My pain was bearable, but only because I had sought it out. My whole life, I had sought out this pain, this experience, this moment. My orgasm matched his, and he filled me with the hope I had been seeking. 



------------------------------



We shared just a few additional moments. We straitened our clothes while our heart rates returned to human levels. In mock anger, I chose to leave first.

"Goodbye!"

"Goodbye." He replied. "Tell your friend how happy I am that you lost the bet."



There was no bet, of course. I walked away, now was not the time for words. Now was the time for hopeful thoughts, for dreams of unique combinations giving rise to perfection.



Cheating Wife: Black Friday



"Ughhhhhhhhh ... I don't care. Just get something you really want."


In truth, I expected this response. We celebrate every Thanksgiving with his family, and the only thing they truly share is a love of drinking. I don't complain about this, because we all have our vices. 

"Come on, hun, come with me." I pleaded, although I already knew the answer. 


"Shit, Janet, its 4 AM. There is no way I'm getting up."


"But Tom, its Black Friday. Don't you want to come shopping with me?"


"Sorry, babe, but fuck no I don't. Just go and have fun."


Theatrically, I stomped off, put on some old sweat pants and a sweatshirt, and made my way back to his side of the bed. "How do I look?" I joked with my still drunk and very tired husband. 

"At least you'll be warm. Now let me sleep, woman!" 

And with that I left the room, grabbed my long winter coat, picked up the bag I had packed the night before, and headed out to my car, which started easily. I was looking forward to the heat once the engine got warm. I had a 45-minute drive ahead of me and I wanted to be comfortable. 


I reached Rt 90 pretty quickly, and took 'the pike' out west until I hit 495. I took 495 north and got off on Rt 9, and then jumped on Rt 30. I could have stayed on Rt 9 but I needed to make a call, and I knew that I would be able to park at Friendly's while I dialed the numbers. 


After 3 rings a sleepy voice answered, "What?" 


"Hello, I'm sorry for calling so early, is this Richard?" 


"Yea, you got him. Who is this and why are you calling?"


"Hi Richard, I'm happy to reach you, and I'm sorry for calling so early. I'm looking to purchase a specialty item, and my friend Wanda recommended you. I'm calling so early, because I'd like to make the purchase in private, before normal store hours. Is that possible?"


"Its 5 AM. But, yea, for Wanda I'll open the store. When will you be here?"


"Thank you! I can be there in 15 minutes. See you soon."
I had a feeling he'd open for Wanda. Guys will do a lot for her, because she cannot -- and has not -- said no to a guy for as long as I've known her. 

And God knows I love her, but she cannot keep her mouth shut. I'll have to ask Richard to keep this between us. Heading back on Rt 9, I hope that Wanda, as chatty as she can be, is at least honest in her descriptions. 


I found the establishment easily, noticed both that the light was on and that the closed sign was still in place, and I parked out back. I turned off the engine, gathered my bag, walked around front, knocked on the door, and was welcomed inside. 


So far Wanda had not exaggerated. Richard was just as described. He was at least 6'4", had impossibly broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and muscular arms. His jeans fit loosely, his shirt was stretched across his chest, and his feet were bare. 


He must have noticed me looking. "Sorry for the bare feet, I've just come down from the apartment upstairs." He said this matter-of-factly, and I thought I sensed a little disappointment in his tone. 

My guess is that he was hoping for 'Wanda' and what he was getting was a stranger in sweats. "Don't be silly. I am thrilled that you are helping me out!" I assured him. And with that a smile broke out across his face. His white teeth emerged from between his full lips, the image all the more striking given the contrast with his almost blue-black skin. 


"Do you mind if I use the restroom? I've had a long drive." He didn't mind, of course, and showed me to the bathroom. 

Before beginning my transformation, I took a moment to gather myself. Richard was beautiful, and we contrasted perfectly. He stood almost a foot taller than me, his body was sharp and hard, whereas mine was curvy and soft, even his dark hair differed from my blond curls. 

Not wanting to wait too long, I quickly removed my sweats and sneakers, and replaced them with a black dress and leather spike-heeled boots. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, heavily emphasized my make-up, applied a thick coat of red lipstick, put my long coat back on, and walked back into the store. 

He seemed to miss the boots, but I could tell that he clearly noticed my make-up. His interest flared up. 
"Now, just what is it that you need, at this time of the morning, in an 'adult' store?"


"My husband suggested that I purchase 'a little friend'. Although I shouldn't say it out loud, I think he believes it will help with the growing discrepancy in our sex drives. And he might also like to see me with it, on occasion." As I spoke, Richard and I never broke eye contact. 


"OK, I think I know what you're looking for. Come on down here and I'll show you some options." And with that he led me down to a glass case containing a large number of sex toys. 


"So -- battery or manual powered?" Seeing my slightly confused look, he clarified. "Are you looking for a vibrator or a dildo?"


"Oh, sorry! Definitely not battery powered. That just seems odd to me."


"Alright then, a dildo it is. What size are you looking for?"


"Well, I'm not really sure. What size do you have?"


"I think you mean 'what sizes do I sell'"! 
We laughed. 


"They come in all sizes. Here, take a look."
He was right; the display had many, many dildos in different shapes and sizes, in different materials, differing in how lifelike they looked. 


"I should probably get one like this." I pointed to a smallish, tan-colored one. 


"Sure, if that's the one you want."


"My guess is it's the only one my husband won't mind seeing me with! But may I just look at a few others?"


"Look all you like."


"Some of these are really big!" I said in an offhand way. 


"They get bigger." Richard replied. 


I pointed at a particularly 'healthy' one and commented. "Wow, that's bigger than any real one!"


Richard laughed. "I assure you they come bigger than that in real life."
We shared a quiet moment, each enjoying the private message. 


"What colors do they come in?"


"The real question is what color do you want?"


"I'm not sure my husband would be pleased if I answered that honestly."


"Then it'll be our secret."


"Actually, I'd prefer if this was all a secret -- can we keep today between the two of us?" He nodded his agreement. 


"Then I'll tell you. I think the black ones are the sexiest." Richard just smiled at me. 


"It is getting a warm in here. Do you mind if I take off my coat."


"Make yourself at home."
And with that encouragement, I removed my coat, and revealed not my sweats but my black dress. And not just any black dress, but a dress with purpose, an Italian ladder-front Bandeau dress made of stretch lycra. 

Richard stared, and didn't say a word. We shared the silence while he looked me over. I rotated so he could take me in. From the cut, from the material, from the outline of my nipples, he knew that I was not wearing underwear.


"Richard?"


"Yes."


"My husband would kill me if I brought home the one I wanted."


"Ya, I bet he would. So what are you going to do?"


"I was wondering if you had a trial version? You know, so I can at least see if it fits, and if it does fit, see how it feels."


"Well, shit! You are in luck. I've got a self-propelled version, in just your color, that you can try right now."
There was no mistaking his intent. Richard walked around the counter, took my hand in his, and led me up to his apartment.
I happily followed.

The apartment was quiet, clean, and brighter than I expected -- although all I cared about was his bed, which was in the middle of the room. It was a simple box spring and mattress on the floor. This would drive me crazy in my home (for cleaning purposes), but here I liked the height.


I turned to kiss him, but he stopped me. "Naw. Not now. That's not how this is going down. You want a trial spin with this dildo, you better get yourself ready." And with that he began to undress, leaving the challenge to me. 

Understanding him completely, I sat on the edge of his bed and pushed my dress down to free my breasts. I began to squeeze them for him. As he watched, I gently pinched and twisted my nipples. 

His penis hung heavily toward the floor. As its head propped up slightly towards me, I wiggled completely out of my dress. My legs were now completely spread, hiding nothing from his view. I mimicked oral sex on my middle finger, and then brought it down between my other lips. Slowly I ran circles across my clit, and allowed quiet moans to escape my mouth. 

The look on Richard's face was unmistakable, and I could see his penis hardening. I lay back and began to tease my lips apart for him. Using my thumbs to play with my clit, I pulled myself open for him, and quickly brought myself to orgasm.


With two fingers from my right hand, and one from my left, all inserted just to the first knuckle, I began to stretch myself wider. Richard clearly enjoyed this, as he quietly moved closer. I felt him grab my boot, but stopped him.


"No, not yet, not like this." 

I rolled over, got on my knees on the edge of the bed, and began inserting my fingers again, this time deeper. Using one, then two, then three fingers I brought myself to a second orgasm -- an orgasm that would leave me needing much more than my own hand could provide.


"Please, please. Take me now." 

That was all I managed to say, although I am certain I felt his hand on my hip before the second 'please'. Quickly following his hand, I felt the head of his penis press forcefully against me, and then into me as my body accepted his. Now with him inside me, and both hands holding my ass, he spoke.


"Lets go, girl, you better make this work for you."
And with that I pushed back onto him. My body fought with his girth, but I wasn't to be denied. In slow, short movements, I was taking him deeper. Evidently, I was moving too slow.


"You are lucky that this is a self-propelled model!" 

And with that I felt him thrust forward, powerfully, into me. Words escaped my mouth, but they were incomprehensible. Richard, once deep within me, pulled back and then powered back in again. And again. And again. Using his hands to both hold me in place and to slap my ass, Richard fucked me.


My orgasm exploded, unmistakably, even with my head buried in his pillow to silence my screams. His followed quickly, with quiet grunts, delivered with hard, short thrusts from his penis. For a brief moment, from within, I felt him flex his penis. 

I pulled forward, rolled over and stared at him. Richard, sweaty, with a glistening and softening penis, stared back. And then ... laughter. Uncontrollable, euphoric laughter. He lay next to me and we laughed until we fell asleep.


I woke before he did, and took the time to marvel at his lovely body. His penis, though now soft, still seemed massive, its color lighter than his body, the head closer to pink than brown. I rested my head on his belly and pulled his soft penis into my mouth. 

I tasted our lovemaking. 

His breathing indicated that he was waking, his penis now beginning to throb I took the opportunity to stroke him. He continued to grow in my hand and in my mouth as I continued to coax him from his slumber. My body was responding as was his, which is not surprising given how erotic I find giving oral sex.


His rhythmic hip movements suggested he was fully awake, but it was his hand on the back of my head that left no doubt. "Can't get enough, can you, girl?" I mumbled in the affirmative.


Pulling away from me, he looked me in the eye.
"You did alright earlier, but I think you can handle a little more cock than that, can't you?" 
Richard rolled me on my side, straddled my thigh, and pulled my ankle towards his neck.
 "Well, we're gonna find out right now." My eyes told him all he needed to know.

"Damn, girl, you're wet," he said as he slipped his head, sideways, into me. "Can you feel my balls on your thigh?"


"Yes."


"Heavy, aren't they?"


"Yes!" I answered as he pushed deeper into me. He was making progressively deeper thrusts as he moved up between my legs. I could feel his testes dragged back by the friction between our bodies. Slowly but confidently he took me, bringing his pelvis closer to mine, resting now my entire leg up his belly and chest. 

Looking down at me he smiled. "You feel good, girl. Want to find what you can do?" My eyes answered, and with his arms holding my thigh, precluding any movement, and our legs scissored together, he thrust completely into me.


There was some bearable pain mixed with the unbearable pleasure. I bucked and screamed. Richard held my leg tightly with his left hand; with his right he pulled my torso toward his knee. I was at his mercy, and he showed me none. He took me with rapid, deep, powerful thrusts. 

"Hold on, hold on. Not yet!" He commanded as he came close, and I obeyed. I held back my own orgasm until he released his.


"Now. Let it go!" And with that, almost immediately after I felt the warm internal pressure of his release, I experienced my own perfect, powerful completion. As before, I felt him flexing his penis before removal.


"Damn. Respect, girl. That was amazing." I just lay there trying to bring my mind back into this world. 

"Richard, I have to go. May I use your bathroom?" I gathered my bag, and went off to prepare for the trip home. I didn't want to leave, but I had to.


"Thanks again for helping me out today!" I sang as I exited his bathroom, now dressed once again in my sweats and sneakers. "I really appreciate your kindness." My eyes, locked upon his naked body, reinterpreted those words for him.


"Damn, girl, I can tell that you loved the trial model." He was right, and cute for saying it. My behavior betrayed my preference, and I liked him knowing it. "Still, you shouldn't rush into a purchase like this. Why don't you bring that ass back here some time, and I'll have a few additional models here to help you decide?"


That question surprised me, but didn't upset me! 

"I might be able to do that. Do you have other models in my color?" I giggled as I walked closer.


"Oh, yea, I can fill that order." He said, while pulling my head down toward his hardening penis.



Cheating Wife Blues



In this story - an errant wife, her would-be paramour, and seven large friends of his are left with no choice but to face the error of their ways. 

This is not your usual revenge on cheating wife story. No people or animals were permanently injured or harmed in this story; but all involved, including innocent bystanders are inconvenienced to one degree, cough, color; or another. 

The key players are: "Bun", the husband who is tired of his wife playing around (fucking has not been documented); and "Hotdog", his most trusted friend and a 'master vidiot' (official name of a professional lighting and video production guru). Their nicknames go back many years. They were, and are, the best.

The story centers around a man who, short of beating the shit out of his wife, is about to use his unique strengths against his adversaries' weaknesses; and the losers get the 'blues'.

>>>>>>>>>>

To have actually participated in the events about to unfold, you would need to know what the communicants are actually saying; but to read it you only need the sense of rapid flow and intricately-timed coordination between the two finely-tuned and practiced main characters; and the results. 

Other props include: a couple of minor pyrotechnics with 'special effects', a few news crews; two Wi-Fi peer-to-peer linked laptops carried by Hotdog and Bun; a pair of digital video cameras mirroring into both laptops in real-time; and two small 5-mile-range radios with loop earpieces and finger-keyed throat mikes. 

The opening scene is inside a bar. It's Saturday night; the bar is packed with people, the lights down low and the jukebox at high volume. 

The already-tipsy wife is sitting on the lap of her current lothario at the front end of the bar near the entrance and encouraging him to paw her bared full breasts through the opened front of her tucked-back blouse, as a group of his friends look on and roar in laughter. 

At the time, the husband was outside in the shadows, watching through the cracked-open rear exit door at the very dark and unoccupied far end of the bar from his wife. 

His friend, Hotdog, was parked outside the front bar entrance, preparing to video the mass exodus soon to occur, and the smaller one sure to follow several long minutes later. 

The husband slipped in the rear door to place a vidcam on the dark end of the bar; and focused it on where, about thirty feet down at the opposite end of the bar, his wife is busy corkscrewing herself down into the villains lap, her bare breasts wobbling in clear view when not being groped. The husband presses "Record" and backs up into the corner to wait for a several agonizingly long minutes. He notifies Hotdog.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"Hotdog, Stage #1 initiated." 

"Roger on #1; ready on Stage #4."

When enough time has elapsed to document the indiscretion, the hero stepped out beside the deeply-shadowed end of the bar, slightly behind the vidcam. 

"Hotdog. Stage #1 complete; initiating Stage #2; Go hot on #4."

"Roger on #1 and #2; and #4 now hot."

Bun pulled two differently colored hand grenades out of his jacket pockets; pulled the pins and, after putting the pins back in his pockets, held the the grenades over his head for all to see.

"THESE ARE HAND GRENADES!!!"

"YOU, AT THE END OF THE BAR. Yeah - You, the bitch, and your table full of friends sit very, very still. These have very short fuses and bad results. If you budge one inch, they will turn everything and everyone in this building into bloody little pieces. Nobody will make it out the door, if you don't listen carefully."

The rest of the crowd immediately bum-rushed the front door, in a chorus of screams and yells. 

Once everybody but the little group at the far end of the bar was safely outside, the husband had but one thing to say and two to do.

"I do hope you all enjoy the rest of this play as much as I enjoyed the first act."

He pitched one grenade over the heads of the group at the wall behind them, and rolled the second down the aisle of barstools in their direction like a lopsided bowling ball. They slid off their stools and chairs and ducked. As soon as the grenades went off and the results could be seen, Bun grabbed the vidcam off the bar and spun out the back door. When it swung shut, he turned off the cam and jammed small metal wedges around the door to keep it from being opened again. 

"Hotdog. Stage #2 complete; initiating Stage #3." 

"Roger, #2 and #3; #4 is on the party."

"Roger party #4."

Stage #3 involved the husband using a prepared cover page containing a short description of the background leading up to the attack, supposedly by the locally infamous leader of a religious sect who objected to blatant drunkenness and public displays of nudity. The husband was developing new text regarding the inside video to be attached. 

The husband would report "#3 complete" when he had assembled the lead-in page, additional text he'd created, and the captured bar camera videos into a single package. When it was complete and saved, Hotdog would be able to pull it up on his own laptop where he would merge in his own exterior video from Stage #4, and create the final packaged presentation. 

"Bun. Lights, cameras, action." (The first news crew has just arrived; no cops or fire indicated yet) 

The bartender was in a holding pattern on his 911 call from the street when the first grenade had rebounded off the wall inside, rolled back to the remaining group, and went off with a POP and a loud hiss that, within seconds, enveloped the intended targets in a dense cloud of choking military-grade tear gas. 

The group of nine came to their feet coughing and trying to see through the tears suddenly pouring from their eyes as their exposed skin was subjected to burning sensations; all designed by Uncle Sam to keep an adversary from thinking about anything else at that moment. 

An instant later, the other grenade went off beside them with another POP and hiss, spreading a thick cloud of blinding neon blue smoke that swelled to fill the room. 

It was loaded with the same kind of micro-powder dye used in bank robbery fake bill packets, just twenty times as much. Once in contact with exposed skin, it's guaranteed not to go away until the body actually sheds all the dyed skin, several layers of it, one flake at a time. 

The bar's surveillance cameras in the corners of the ceiling caught everything until the smoke got too thick; but were able to pick up again a few minutes later, albeit with hazy images as the blue smoke settled and the tear gas was sucked up by the bar's air filtration system. They had not captured any usable images of the man in the shadows at the back of the bar, just an outline. 

The wife and the group of coughing misfits were unable to respond except to gasp, wretch, and weep until the tear gas dissipated and the blue smoke had dyed every porous thing in the room a vibrant indelible neon blue – skin, clothes, chair fabric, untreated flooring, paneling, ceiling tiles, ...everything. The glasses and liquor bottles could be wiped off, but the labels would forever be unreadable.

When they were able to regain their bearings, the front door opened again and Hotdog resumed recording from his vantage point as the wife and villains finally stumbled out the door, only to be caught in a sudden crossfire of klieg lights and camera flashes by a half dozen news crews who'd heard the police band broadcast on their radio scanners about a grenade attack. This was big news. Now they knew it was very funny big news. 

Hotdog smiled as he filmed the latest survivors of the attack being spotlighted, photographed and filmed live from all directions by news crews – a bunch of blue-hued, confused, and half-blind Smurfs bumping into each other, like a bunch of Keystone Kops doing a 'Chinese fire drill'. 

Note: A 'fire drill' is when six or more people occupying a 4-door car jump out, run around the car in a convoluted manner, and dive back in different doors before driving away as if nothing had happened. It serves no purpose other than as entertainment for bored teenagers and a few observant adults who still retain a sense of humor on a hot summer night. 

The blue-stained crew was looking for any way out of the lights and past the thick, tight ring formed by the rapidly gathering and mirthful crowd; while an incessant cascade of questions was being fired at them out of the darkness from every direction. Microphones were extended over their heads and shoved in their faces from all quarters as they bumbled their way from point to point only to be rebuffed. Spotlights and camera flashes were coming from all angles. 

HotDog, Bun. State #3 complete to you."

Hotdog captured all the best of the show outside, and knew when to quit. He had more than enough vid time for their purpose.

"Bun, Hotdog. Roger #3 complete; #4 complete; Mike Ten (10 minutes) of eight Smurfs, one blue-tit midget, shitty pants, wet waist down, looking to hide; initiating Stage #5." 

"Hotdog, Bun; roger #4 and #5." 

"Roger, Bun. Run like OJ in his heyday. It's getting tight in the field." (The first police cruiser and fire trucks were just pulling up to the scene)

"Roger, Hotdog. Bun to river woods." (Bun is leaving the scene for the final rendezvous point, via the back roads. His part of the mission is finished. He would monitor Hotdog for comm until he was out of range.)

The husband quickly disappeared over the back fence and left in his rented car in the opposite direction to the rendezvous, just as the rest of the police and the fire trucks arrived out front. 

Hotdog was in his van recording voice tracks from Bun's text narrative and putting together the final video presentations. Nobody would know who did the voice-overs, just that it wasn't the husband. 

When the bar owner arrived a few minutes later and checked inside, he found the total damage consisted of a few melted vinyl tiles from where the grenades came to rest; and, although the place had a new bright blue motif, it looked a lot nicer than his old dingy cave used to. 

Hotdog had pointed a sensitive shotgun mike out a partially-opened window, in order to monitor discussions among the police, firemen, witnesses, and the bar owner. He would include any useful information in a conclusion piece to the voice-overs.

The bar owner smiled and told the police he had no complaint, having just saved a ton of time and money on paint. There were spare vinyl tiles in the backroom. 

An hour later, the witnesses had left and all that remained to be done was to air-out and wipe down everything in the bar; and for the cops to decide on the charges to be pressed against the nine blue villains, eight of whom had illegal knives. 

The only hard evidence at the scene were two non-shrapnel grenades so overheated by their activation that fingerprints and DNA were impossible, the over-legal-length knives that were found in the possession of eight of the remaining Smurfs, and the bar's own video showing the little Smurf showing her bare boobs, and possibly precipitating the whole sequence of events. 

Hotdog finished up the final presentation and sent it to its intended destinations. The first site was a known honorable website that would lock in his copyright. Then it was sent everywhere else; including all regional TV, radio and newspaper news rooms. He also posted it to YouTube and the wife's Facebook page; and uploaded it to a number of other websites that would be more than happy to have a piece of that action. 

"Bun, Hotdog. #5 completed; Hotdog to 'river woods'." He didn't wait for a response. 

If he was a Vegas oddsmaker, he would put his money on the package being world-wide viral before noon tomorrow. 

The cops were happy to get eight good criminal weapons busts out of the situation; along with a bottom-rung 'indecent exposure' charge against the little Smurf with the Day-Glo tits. 

The DA figured the tear gas thing was an enforceable violation, but the odds were minimal for success on pursuit of two possible charges on the disgruntled grenadier, given the flakey evidence trail left behind; and the 'blues' was more a case for civil court. 

The weapons in the evidence room were the meat of the matter he would sink his teeth into, at the rate of one year and a day upstate on each of the eight counts. Those would look good at re-election time.

Baby Smurf was released on her own recognizance with a ticket to appear. The villains were detained for arraignment on the weapons busts.

Imagine the chatter over the radios and in the squad room that night when the Blues Magoo's gang got stuffed into the 'drunk tank' with a bunch of over-the-limit winos who were suddenly hallucinating about wheezing Blue Meanies with red eyes, tears streaming down their cheeks, and rubbing their faces, arms and necks like they were infested with something nobody else wanted to catch. 

They looked like a wannabe Blue Man Group, under bright white jail lights, and not one shred of talent between them, unless you count crying and rubbing for an audience of stunned winos and happy cops. Police officers really do have a sense of humor, but didn't often get opportunities such as this. 

As expected, there was a whole lot of police overtime that night in the station house, writing reports and what not. The entertainment potential is hard to deny. I know somebody has a copy of that jail cell video. I'm keeping an eye on YouTube for anything "blue" or "jail", just in case. 

They did figure out from witness statements that one of the blue-tinted villains had been messing around with a married woman – who happened to be the baby Smurf whose tits were now a remarkable shade of iridescent blue. 

The unknown grenadier, presumably the husband, was gone without a trace, out the sealed back door; and nobody had a name or description of him; or plates or descriptions of any vehicles leaving the area at the time, other than one white Taurus without tags. Undoubtedly, he would have an air-tight alibi for this one. 

The rest of this story needs not be written; including resolution of the questions of where the blue lady went, for how long; and what did the hero do to reach finality about his feelings for the errant wife whose reputation, along with most of the rest of her, was "stained" on international news, YouTube and Facebook? 

She'd gotten away with her little indiscretions in the past by lying through her teeth to a husband who knew she was lying all along and did everything but beat her to get her to stop. One might wonder what kind of spin she tried to put on her faux pas this time. What was his response? Did he cheat back and throw it in her face? Did they divorce, reconcile, enter a Dom/Sub relationship, shoot it out? All these questions and many more require no answers. 

Each man has his own limit to the love he has for his woman. When a man reaches his limit, he quits talking, quits listening; and puts his foot down...on somebody's throat. Or then again, he might just 'get the blues'. You just never know what he might do...or where it might end up in the long run. 

No one has the right to judge another for their actions in this matter, short of trying them for assault or murder. 

In this fine state of Mississippi, it would be an impeachable offense for a judge to try a man just for getting a clear case of the cheating wife blues.

>>>>>>>>

H.D. – What say you, my fine feathered cuckold friend?



Cheating Wife: Hotel BBC



++++++++++++++

This is a stand-alone story. You do not need to read any other 'Cheating Wife' story of mine to understand this one. 

++++++++++++++

"Thanks, but I'm waiting for someone." Well that is the third guy I've blown off so far. He was cute enough, and confident, but not really what I am looking for. And I am looking for something special.

But I don't blame him -- or the other two -- for trying. Sitting at this hotel bar, I certainly don't look like I want to be alone. I also don't look like I want to stay long. I squeezed my body into a gorgeous little leopard print strapless mini dress, stepped into a matching pair of 5" spiked heels, and wore my hair down. Hell, I touched up my garnet colored lip gloss often enough to arouse every man in this bar.

It's just that the right man hasn't approached yet. I know he's seen me, but so far he seems content to just watch. Maybe he's gay. I almost laugh out loud at that thought, because you just wouldn't expect it from his appearance. If he doesn't come over soon I'll just choose someone else. I'd rather not have to settle tonight, but I am not missing out on this opportunity. I don't get away from the house that often.

"Tell him thanks, but I'm not interested right now." Well, I must clearly be scary! This last guy didn't even approach, he just sent the bartender with a drink. Maybe I should just approach him.

"Why are you alone?" And there it was! He came up from behind, and with a voice more perfect than I could have hoped, asked the right question.

"The right man hasn't approached yet." I said with my back to him.

"I'll just sit here while you figure out what you need." And with that he sat down. He was more attractive up close than he was from across the room. He was definitely taller than I expected -- maybe a foot taller than my 5'6" -- and probably close to twice my weight, with what appeared to be a tightly muscled body. His black pants and dark blue button down shirt was perfect against his black as night skin. 



"Have you decided what you need?" He said while looking me over closely.

"Well, I need what everyone needs." I replied.

"Naw, pretty lady, that's too vague. What does a sexy, single, woman hope to find in this bar?"

"You're a little off. I am a sexy, married, woman." And with that I returned the favor of running my eyes over his body.

"That's a little better! I like the detail. So, what is a sexy, married, white woman hope to find tonight?"

"This sexy, married, white woman is hoping to find what every sexy, married, white woman needs." My heart was racing as I said this, but I did not take my eyes from his. 



"Better still! But don't hide behind everyone else. Tell me, what this sexy, married, white woman needs."

"A stereotype. I need a stereotype." I whispered. He met my overtly racist comment with a smile.

"You're in luck. Now finish your drink." As we rotated back towards the bar, he pulled his stool closer to mine, and directed my hand into his lap.

"This stereotype is going to split you in two." And he might be right. My hand rested somewhere along a thick shaft, a few inches down his pant leg. 



"Bartender! Put my drinks on this lovely lady's tab, and bring her the bill now." He said this loud enough for those close to hear, but I didn't put up a fight, I just signed the bill.

"Now you sweet little thing, you're going to kiss me so all these boys understand." And I did, and it was sexy. Emotionally, I felt as if I was on stage, physically I felt butterflies as his tongue explored my mouth and his hand explore my ass. 



"Lead me back to your room." I complied without question or hesitation. The elevator ride was long, but I enjoyed being held close by him. I enjoyed his hand on my hip. And I enjoyed the image that was racing through my mind.

When we got back to the room, he continued to control all of our actions. "Undress me, and you better treat my clothes with respect." I did, of course. I unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it from his impossibly broad chest, and hung it in the closet. Then I helped him out of his shoes, and his socks, and carefully placed them at the foot of the bed. I then undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants, unzipped his fly, and lowered his pants to the floor. I took these, too, to the closet and hung them neatly. Finally, I removed his boxers, folded them, and placed them in a drawer.

He stood before me totally naked. He was breathtaking! His penis, still not fully erect, was thickest I had ever seen, and was definitely much longer than average.

"You look good in that dress. Leave it on. Do you know what sexy, married, white women like best?" He asked while rocking his hips slightly making his penis swing from side to side.

"Tell me." I asked as I moved closer.

"They like sucking black cock, and I am getting tired of waiting." With that I approached, kneeled before him, and pulled his head into my mouth. I could barely get it in, and instead I ran my tongue around it, and pulled on him hard with both hands. My stroking quickly brought him to full strength, and I tried to pull as much of him into my mouth as possible. The experience was incredibly sexy and I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter.

"Come on now, you can do better." And with that he pushed himself deep into my mouth. The feeling was uncomfortable as it stretched my skin, but the feeling in the back of my mouth was amazing. 



"That's a little better." He seemed pleased as I sucked air through my nose and he fucked my mouth. He kept a pace comfortable for him, challenging for me, but certain to end in pleasure! After almost 15 minutes of hard work, he pulled himself from my mouth.

"Oh, you look sad." And I am sure I did. "Don't worry, you're a good cocksucker, and I'll let you do it again in 45 minutes, but right now I got something to do."



"What?!" I panted, pleading with him with my eyes not to stop.

"I got to fuck a baby into that tight blonde pussy. Take off your panties."

This was so wrong that it was perfect. My thong was off almost before he finished speaking, and the head of his penis was swimming in my wetness shortly after that. After teasing with a few shallow thrusts, he pushed his head into me. I gasped, but he was the one to speak.

"Damn bitch, you're tight. You sure you been fucked before?" I was concentrating too hard to answer, instead focusing my attention on letting him push deeper. Which, thank God, he did. Making short, but sure, progress he pushed deeper and deeper, pausing only to let me catch my breath. 


"How does that feel?" Words went through my mind -- impossible, perfect, complete -- but all I could do was moan approvingly. And with that I felt him pull back until only his head remained inside of me, pause for just a moment, and rush back into me. I came immediately, and uncontrollably.

"Shit! That was easy! Damn woman, you're gonna love this!" And I did. With long, deep, impossibly powerful strokes, he fucked me. He fucked me hard. I slipped from orgasm to orgasm, as he went from strong pace to a punishing one.

"Talk to me woman. What do you want?"

Although not always loud, I took the opportunity to express myself. I told him to fuck me, I told him I loved his cock, I told him to cum inside me, I told him everything he wanted to hear.

"Beg me, bitch!" And I did, repeatedly, until a final, painfully deep thrust announced his orgasm. He was unbelievable. I felt him rush into my body, filling my world. It was perfect.

He lay on top of me for a few minutes, catching his breath, before rolling over. Once off me, I stood in his line of sight, and finally started to undress. First I stepped out of my shoes, pulled my dress over my head, and removed my bra. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and stood there for his inspection.

"You know I'm going to need you all night, right big boy?" He smiled his approval as the phone rang. 

"Hey Babe, how are you?" I said to my husband as I sat at the edge of the bed next to my lover. "It's been a challenging job, but I think I nailed it! I still have some work to do, but you know I love challenges!"

As I spoke to my husband I started stroking my lover back to full strength. 

My husband and I chatted for a few more minutes, and then I stood as the conversation drew to an end. With my eyes locked on my lover, and his cum dripping between my legs, I said goodnight to my husband and told him I loved him.



Cheating Wife: My Fucking Routine



This is a stand-alone story. You do not have to read any of my other 'Cheating Wife' stories to understand this one. However, many of you won't like this posting, and I get that. I wish I could convince you in advance not to read it, but that is a fool's errand. You'll read this, and it'll have impact -- large or small -- and you'll own that. I'm OK with that; I hope you are too. 



*************************



My tale begins with acceptance, and the unintended consequences of acceptance. 

I married a wonderful man, former military, who desired to provide for his family. My husband married a vivacious woman, an unemployed artist, who longed to bring passion and excitement into the world. There were many overlaps in our dreams, but the overlap was not complete.



Our major conflict arose out of minor events: my husband preferred routine, and I rebelled against it. He preferred meals and events -- including lovemaking -- to occur at a specific, and agreed upon, time. I wanted spontaneity, and variation, in my life. We fought over this frequently, until one day he made a compelling request.



"Sweetheart, I don't care how you do it, but you have to find enjoyment in routine."



"I don't think I can, I find it boring. Seriously -- it's fucking boring!"



"I know you feel that way, but that's only is because you are thinking about it too narrowly! We make love three times a week -- Tues, Thurs, and Sat -- but each time isn't the same. I don't think you can say that our love life is boring, and I doubt your friends are more active!"



He had a point, and a lesson. Firstly, he was right -- our lovemaking was wonderful and interesting -- so routine was not a problem there. Secondly, routine is what you make of it -- I hadn't realized that our love life was so scheduled! 

I had no choice but to concede. 

"You make a great point, really, what can I do?"



"All I want is that you develop your own routine, find joy in it, and let it play out! I think it will be good for you as an individual, and great for us as a couple."



"If that's all you want, I can try it."



"That is definitely what I want." 

And with that he gave me a kiss on the forehead, and the discussion was over. Anyway, it was close to bedtime -- 10:30 -- so there wasn't much else to discuss. Frankly, I wish it had been a Tuesday, Thursday, or Saturday, because I could have used a good fucking to take my mind off the topic.



But it was Monday, so I went to bed -- not to sleep -- with my husband's perspective on my mind: "develop your own routine, find joy in it, and let it play out!" I tried to imagine what that meant as I fell asleep. 



He was correct in that I needed a schedule for creating art, and that the schedule needed to compensate for us -- for meals, for 'connecting', and for love. And in honesty, he wasn't asking much, given what he was offering. He kept us well fed, and our apartment is lovely. He was taking excellent care of me! 

If I could contribute -- emotionally or financially -- it would make his life better. I focused on the first, and hoped for the latter. By finding my own routine I could help his.



And his routine was strict! Not only was our physical love scheduled, so was preparing for a successful week (for example pressed suits, nutritious lunches, etc.). We prepared meals the night before, we knew what we were going to wear, we even know the path we would take to work.



My path was short; his was much longer. I worked -- or rather I created art -- from home. Once he ate breakfast in the morning (at exactly 6:50AM), he would leave the apartment (at 7:10). Because he considered it best to combine location with exercise, he chose to walk down sixteen flights of stairs. I waved from him each morning from our window when he emerged on the street (after ~5 minutes, at 7:15) and again, still from our window, as he turned the corner down the road (~10 minutes, at 7:25).



*************************



A routine found me, and I submitted to it.



I won't bore you with specific details of how we met, and how the relationship started. The short story is that I was both surprised and delighted that a model lived so close, and that he worked so inexpensively. Given the time we have spent together, it is surprising that I still only have a partially finished charcoal drawing of him. But that is a story for another day, if there is any interest.



What is of interest for this posting, is that my model made me appreciate routine, and in that understand my husband's perspective. Routine became my master, and as a result my husband and I got along much better. As an example of my routine, I'll explain this morning.



The alarm whet off at exactly 6:00. My husband turned it off, woke me gently, and went to make coffee. I stumbled into the bathroom for a quick shower, when I reemerged into the bedroom, hot coffee was waiting for me. My husband then kissed me on the forehead, left me with my coffee, and headed to the shower.



He showered while I selected my morning attire. I chose to wear one of his 'wife beaters', which I find hugs my body well. At 5'6" and about 120 lbs, I can wear his clothes, although most fit me loosely. My nipples are pale, so although hard, their color did not protrude from the tank top. To match color, I put on a white thong, although I would have preferred to leave it off.



When he emerged from the shower, he liked what he saw. "I married such a sexy woman - I must be the luckiest bastard on the planet." When he makes these comments I wonder if he can sense my level of arousal -- I have been excited since my shower.



I often wonder what communication occurs beneath conscious understanding. To some degree, I've always been understood by men -- even when I didn't understand myself. Discovery through another is my favorite form of education. But I didn't share this with my husband.



"You're sweet! If you skip work, I'll let you get lucky." He wouldn't, of course, but did suggest some play once his workday was through. Instead I sat with him while he enjoyed breakfast, walked him to the door, and kissed him goodbye. 

I didn't lock the door.



I removed my thong, walked to the window, pulled the curtains open just enough to poke my head through, touched myself, and waited. My husband would emerge from the building below in five minutes; I heard footsteps behind me in less than one. 



As I stared out the window, I knew what was happening behind the curtains. My body, aroused and exposed, was prepared. I heard clothes fall to the floor, and then I felt one hand on my hip. The other hand I knew was placed halfway between the head and the base. Great size requires stabilizing help.



No words were spoken as I was penetrated. I held my body tight as I waved to my husband, just now exiting the building. Having waved back, he now turned up the street. As I waited for him to complete the first leg of his journey, my body began another.



As my husband turned, and matched my wave, a wave of passion exploded through my body. It was 7:25, and I just had the day's first orgasm. It wouldn't be my last.



*************************



"J-girl, you are the only chick I have ever known that fucks to get ready to fuck!"



"Maybe, but you love me for it, don't you?" I'm not sure why I brought up love, that topic should be taboo. But so much of this was already taboo! I didn't wait for an answer; I just turned and got down on my knees. 



I took him in both my hands, pulled the tip of his penis to my lips, and asked, "May I?" He answered by pressing his penis into my mouth. 

I don't get to do this often enough. I find the whole process impossibly sexy. My lover, staring down into my eyes as I stroke his long, thick cock and take as much of it into my mouth as possible.



I wonder what he sees? Does he like the contrast of my white hands on his black cock? Does he imagine grabbing my blond hair, which I pulled into a ponytail just for him? Does he see anything at all, or is he just feeling the moment? I have learned one thing, no matter how I try to please him, this is not how our moment ends.



"Janet, take me to your room. I need you now. And take that shirt off."

I pulled the shirt off my body immediately, dropped it to the floor, and led him - penis in my hand - into my bedroom. I love the feel of air on my naked body, especially since it is almost always an invitation to love.



"Sit down, girl."

As is my obligation, I comply with all of his requests. I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at his beautiful, muscular body. I felt grateful.



"Lay back."

This too I complied with, immediately. I felt the head of his penis return to my threshold, and longed for him to return home. He did not make me wait. Each strong hand clasped an ankle, held them high and separate, while his weight pressed toward me. 



I think he sees me, at least I hope he does. 

Certainly, he watched my body accept his, watched it beg for him when he retreated, and watched it shutter with happiness when he returned. He brought me to orgasm three times this way, each time he held his body still as mine pulsated around his powerful cock. My movements are normally unpredictable, but with him inside me I can only thrash along his length.



Finally, when he grew close, we engaged in his routine. He and I have been together many, many times now, and we have made love in many positions, but this is how we finish. We move closer, face-to-face, and with my legs along his body, we make love. My hips thrust upward, my knees near my head, he takes all of me. And I give him everything.



There is no space between our passion, no difference between our hearts. I feel him -- physically and metaphorically -- reach places no one else has. His power is not diminished, but distributed more asymmetrically. His lips touch mine gently, while his hips pound with indescribable force. I desperately hold back my orgasm, because I need to focus on his.



His release is powerful; I feel the heat, the pressure, and the fullness of the moment. And it induces my own explosion. For that moment, our bodies - our spirits, our souls - are one. Our love is a fluid medium, and I am happily drowning in it.



This too is our routine. He will stay in me, kissing me, or nibbling my neck or ears, or teasing me playfully with his words, until his body fully softens. This may be as few as 10 minutes, or he may remain in me, my hips skyward, and my calves on his shoulders, for an hour or more. 

This time is precious.



He will eventually pull from me, and I will invariably feel empty, hollow, lonely, but I don't share this with him. He and I both have a day to capture, his starts when he leaves my apartment, mine as I wash the sheets. As I do, I'll recite the generous word of my husband. 

"Sweetheart, I don't care how you do it, but you have to find enjoyment in routine."



Cheating Wife Payback



Don was suspicious of the changes he saw in his wife. She had gone back to work after their youngest had started high school. Her new job seemed to require a lot of her time. She always seemed to be on the phone with her new boss Gary. When he called, her whole demeanor seemed to change. She would smile and giggle like a schoolgirl and would always go into the other room to talk to him.

Don also noticed she had begun to wear sexy underclothes. When she was asked about it, she told him she was feeling good about herself since beginning to work. That was fine, but it did not translate to any more sex at home. Actually, he seemed to be getting less.

Don had married Toni almost 20 years ago. Back then she was sexy and adventurous. She was also very easy going. After the kids were born, she seemed to change. She began to bitch and complain about everything. And their sex life that had once been wonderful, suffered.

She was no longer interested in oral sex or doing anything playful. Sex became a once a month, get on, and then get off of me situation. When he tried to open things up a bit, she shut down. Did he want her to act like a slut? Well not exactly, but a bit more wildness would certainly help!

Things had gotten so bad; Don had resorted to Internet porn. He visited several websites. Her preferred those that showed regular women, wives and mothers. He found it sexy when men would post nude pictures of their wives and elicited comments from admirers. He had once asked Toni about posing for some sexy pictures and she flat out refused.

So early one morning, Don was surfing, looking for some hot ladies to satisfy his lust. He found a new web page that had some very nice looking ladies. As he looked through the postings, he saw one that looked like fun. It was entitled I fuck his wife.


He clicked on the link, thinking some poor sap's wife is fucking around on him, and her boyfriend is posting pictures of her. How hot! The first set of pictures opened up and Don was surprised to see something that looked familiar, very familiar.

The pictured posted were carefully edited. You could not see the face of the woman, but she bore a remarkable resemblance to his wife! He wasn't certain until he paged down to a second set of pictures posted after many comments were posted. And there it was. The same sexy underclothes his wife had purchased a few weeks ago.

Don stared at the screen and his blood began to boil!

Farther down in the post were pictures were more graphic. They had pictures of them fucking, pictures of her spread open showing her pussy, and pictures of her sucking his rather large cock. Something she now refused to do for him!

Don wanted to run upstairs and confront Toni. He was steamed as he read the comments from the guy who had posted the pictures. He claimed to be Toni's boss and ridiculed the fact that he was fucking an employee that was married and her clueless husband had no idea. He went on to post all the wild adventures they had shared and how he had fucked her in her house one time while her husband was out of town.

Don was furious!

Don closed down the computer and went upstairs. His hands were shaking. He didn't know what he was going to do. All he knew is he had to get out of the house before he confronted his wife with her unfaithfulness.

Don took a long drive and parked by a lake. He went from crying to screaming at the top of his lungs. And he thought and thought. First I need some real proof. He had a friend that did part time detective work. He decided to call him and have his wife followed.

He went home and acted as though nothing was going on. It was hard. He had never been so angry. He called his friend that afternoon and asked him to watch his wife. About a week later, his friend called.

They met for lunch and the friend was carrying a large envelope. In it were pictures, date, and times. It seemed that they went to a local motel 2 to 3 times a week, not far from their office for lunch.

Don looked at pictures of his wife entering and leaving the motel. Then he flipped to the last picture. It was taken from a partially opened curtain. His wife was on her hands and knees getting fucked by her boss. It was grainy, but clearly showed her and what she was doing.

Don held the picture as rage enveloped him. He would divorce Toni. He was certain of that. But he thought of how he would still have to give her 1/2 of everything they owned. It didn't seem fair. She was the one that cheated.

His friend seemed to read his mind and said it was a shame that he would get screwed in the divorce even though she was the one that cheated. Don agreed and said he wished he could do something about it. The friend smiled and asked if he really meant that. Don asked why.

His friend told him that maybe something could be arranged, depending on what he wanted, and how much he'd be wiling to pay. Don twisted his face. He did not want his wife killed or anything. He just wanted some justice, some revenge.

His friend said he knew of a group of men that might help. Don asked how. His friend told him he had used these guys before in a divorce case. Don asked how. The friend smiled and said in a low voice, are you sure you want to know?

Don said yes.

His friend told him these guys break into the motel and catch his wife in the act with his boss. The boss would be subdued and his wife "handled". Don asked what that meant. The friend smiled and said they would drug her and rape the shit out of her. And they would film it. The tape would be handed over to him to use against her. After these boys got done with her, she'd agree to about anything in the divorce.

Don was shocked. He'd never considered anything like that. He told the friend he'd think about it, and left the restaurant. On his way home, he thought of what his friend said and he thought, no he could never do such a thing. He'd just divorce Toni and that would be it.

When he got home it was late. Toni was in bed watching TV. He went into the bathroom and changed into his pajamas. As he threw his dirty clothes in the hamper, he noticed his wife's dirty panties near the top of the hamper. He pulled them out and noticed the crotch was wet and sticky. She had been with her boss that day!

Don became enraged. He came out of the bedroom and got into bed with Toni. He reached over and began to touch her. She pushed his hands away, telling him she was tired. Normally, he would have given up, but he was angry. 

She yelled as he tried to run his hand under her pajama top. When she pushed it away, he tried to put his hand down her bottom. He was rebuffed again. Then his wife began to yell that he was a sex maniac and he should just go down and look at his computer girls.

He just looked at her as she berated him about looking at Internet porn. He said he wouldn't have to if she would have sex with him. She said she was tired of sex and had no desire any longer. She also made comments hinting that he was a bad lover and that was another reason she did not care for sex with him.

Don stormed out of the bedroom and went downstairs seething. He slept fitfully that night and left for work without talking to his wife. When he got there, there was a message on his voicemail from her telling him she wanted a divorce.

So this was it. He was angry. He was sad. He did not know what do to.

But he did. He thought suddenly of his friend. He called him and they agreed to meet for lunch. The details and money were worked out. Don went home and packed. While there, his wife and him fought again. And in the back of his mind he was thinking, you'll get yours soon enough.

A week passed and Toni was at work with her boss Gary. They made plans to meet at their usual motel. Gary went ahead as usual, getting the room. Toni would follow 15 minutes later with Gary leaving a key to the room in his front seat.

Toni arrived and found the key where Gary had left it. She entered the motel and took the elevator to the third floor. She walked down the hallway to room 312. She put the key into the lock and turned it. As she entered, she was surprised to see the room was dark.

It happened in a split second. Toni's arm was grabbed and she as pulled into the room and the door shut. A large hand covered her mouth and her arm was twisted behind her. She screamed, but a large hand muffled it. She heard a deep voice whisper in her ear to shut the fuck up, or she'd be hurt. Toni quickly stopped screaming.

The lights were turned on and she saw there were five other men and one woman in the room besides the one holding her. They all had masks covering their faces. Gary was tied to a chair, his hands and legs secured and a piece of tape covering his mouth. He looked scared to death.

Toni was drug over to a chair right beside him and tied in a similar fashion. Tape was placed over her mouth. The leader held up Gary's wallet and pulled out the money inside. It was several hundred dollars. He put it in his pocket. Then he opened Toni's purse and found her wallet. He removed some money from her wallet and placed it in his pocket also.

Both Gary and Toni hoped this would be a simple robbery and now that they had all of their money, they would leave without hurting them. Then the leader looked at the Gary's driver's license and then at Toni's. Then looked at both of their left hands and saw wedding rings.

You two are married, but not to each other? He said laughing.

Gary and Toni just stared at the man. He quickly placed a knife next to Gary's throat and asked if they were cheating on their spouses. Gary quickly nodded yes. The leader laughed again and said. I think we'll have to do something about that.

He told her that they were going to have a little party this afternoon. Then they we told that if they were both good, they would live. If they were not, they wouldn't see another morning. It was an idle threat, but Toni and Gary did not know that. And the knife being held against Gary's throat scared them incredibly.

Toni was asked if she understood and she nodded. Gary was asked the same and he nodded. The big man smiled and said let's get the party started. Toni looked at the six men. They were all large black men. She feared what might be coming next. She thought perhaps she could reason with them, offer them money and they might let her go.

They had other ideas.

The big man stood in front of her and placed the knife at her throat. He told her he was going to uncover her mouth and if she screamed, her throat would be cut. Did she understand? She nodded yes. He smiled and slowly pulled off the tape.

Toni began to softly beg for her release. She offered money, possessions, but they were not interested. The man smiled and told her she had only one thing they wanted. As he smiled, he pulled out a rolled cigarette and lit it. Toni recognized it quickly. She had smoked pot in college, but it had been years ago.

The man put it in her mouth and told her to inhale. She thought about refusing, but she felt the pressure of the knife on her throat. She inhaled and then coughed. The man laughed and took a long drag, than handed it back to Toni. She inhaled again, this time not coughing as bad as the first time.

The man told her to take the smoke deep into her lungs and hold it. They shared the joint a few more times and then it was passed around to the other men and the other woman. Another joint was lit and put into Toni's mouth. This one she had to herself, as the men watched her inhale the potent smoke. They saw her eyes getting glassy as inhaled puff after puff. She had no idea this joint was laced with some other potent drugs.

A third joint was lit and passed around eventually getting to Toni. 30 minutes had passed since she'd entered the room. The pot had taken its desired effect and she was as high as a kite. Her entire body felt like it was floating. The fear had left her and she fought to control her thoughts as the pot clouded her mind. 

One last joint smoked, all of it by Toni. It too was laced with powerful drugs. Toni was now pretty much out of it. She was incredibly high. Her head rolled back and she looked blankly at the ceiling. Her mind full of jumbled confused thoughts. Toni felt herself being lifted up. Her bonds had been removed and she could barely open her eyes as she was stood up. Her arms were lifted over her head and her blouse quickly removed. Her bra was quickly pulled off and her nipples felt strange as the cold air hit them. She felt her slacks being pulled down and she was turned and laid down on the bed.

Gary could do nothing but watch as this was happening. As she was laid down, she tried to cover herself but she was not allowed to. The large black men looked at Toni and saw how far out of it she was. The leader then instructed the other men to hold her arms and legs. Four of them each grabbed an arm and leg and spread them out. She struggled slightly, but she could do nothing to stop them.

The black woman stood and slowly stripped off her clothes. Toni lay there with her eyes half closed, floating in a haze staring off into space, as the leader instructed the woman to prepare Toni for what was about to happen. Toni watched as she undressed, not comprehending much of what was going on. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a drug-induced haze.

Toni felt a weight upon her and soft kisses kissing her neck and then her breasts. It felt so good, her nipples felt electric as they were expertly licked and sucked. Toni felt so aroused. Her mind began to fill with sexual thoughts, memories of what Gary and her had done. Then she slowly opened her eyes and reality hit her as she saw the woman slowly kissing her way down to her pussy.

Her mind was a mess of jumbled thoughts. She felt like she was floating out of her body, out of control. She weakly said, No, please stop. But she was ignored as the young black woman began to softly lick the outer folds of Toni's pussy. Toni squirmed and softly begged for her again to stop. She was ignored as the young black woman licked and sucked Toni's pussy.

Gary had to watch as the young black woman played with Toni's pussy. She slowly began to push a finger in and out of Toni as she softly tongued her clit. Toni struggled weakly against the four men holding her, but she could do little other than lifting her torso and trying to get away from the young woman licking her privates.

All that did was push the woman on. She began to lick and suck on Toni's clit while she pushed one and then two fingers in and out of her pussy. Toni struggled in and out of awareness. What was happening to her what so repugnant to her, but it also felt unlike anything she'd ever felt. She was so high she was having trouble sorting out her thoughts.

Toni's clit felt like it was 6 inches long. The nerve endings were so sensitive and were exploding in pleasure as the young black girl gently sucked and then rolled her tongue softly over it. Then as she began to finger fuck her harder while she lightly flicked her tongue over her clit, Toni's body began to shudder in pleasure.

The leader instructed the men holding Toni's arms to suck on her nipples. Toni weakly begged them not to, but the men ignored her and began nursing on her large nipples. Their attention sent further shock waves of pleasure rippling through her body. The drugs had her so messed up she could barely resist what was happening to her.

Gary watched as the men and the woman played with Toni. He felt sick to his stomach and so helpless. He saw her body rise and fall now in rhythm with the attention of the young black girl. Toni's eyes now closed as her head moved from side to side and her breathing becoming more and more shallow.

He looked over and saw one of the black men now taping what was happening. He had a huge grin on his face as he filmed the action. The leader walked over to Gary and smiled as he began to undress. He was huge and muscular. He smiled at Gary as he dropped his trousers and under shorts. He stroked his large black cock hard and asked Gary how he thought his girlfriend would like this. His cock was huge and black. Gary turned away in disgust.

The leader moved between Toni's legs and instructed the young girl to shift around so she could lick Toni's clit as he fucked her. The two men holding Toni's legs raised and spread them as the leader positioned his cock at her moist opening. The young black girl moved around next to Toni. She spread Toni's pussy lips apart and began softly flicking her tongue over Toni's swollen clit.

The leader looked down at Toni as he rubbed his huge black cock up and down Toni's very wet pussy slit. His cock head was soon coated in the juices leaking from Toni's aroused pussy. Gary watched as Toni humped back slightly against his huge black cock moving up and down her pussy slit. He then positioned his cock at her opening and slowly pushed it in.

Toni's eyes were still closed but her breathing instantly became more labored. Her face slightly contorted and she moaned softly as her body jumped slightly in reaction to his entry. The leader laughed and told the men to watch her and see how good he fucked this cheating white married whore.

Gary was sitting on the side of the bed facing Toni. He wanted so to help her, to stop what was happening, but he was helpless. He looked at Toni's face and saw her eyes were still closed and her mouth slightly open as she began to breath even harder. He watched as her body reacted in passion to the massive black man slowly entering his girlfriend. Then he heard her moan deeply, as with each stroke of his massive cock, the leader went deeper and deeper.

The leader looked down at Toni. He watched how her face twisted in pleasure as he slowly fed her more and more of his massive black cock. The young girl pulled the hood covering her clit back even more and began to flick her tongue around it at a slightly more frantic pace. That made Toni's body jump in delight.

The leader slowly pushed deeper and deeper into Toni's pussy. After each deep thrust he would slowly withdraw before pushing his huge black cock back into her, going just a bit deeper each time. His cock was now shiny with the juices beginning to ooze from her enflamed pussy.  Inch by inch, he pushed more and more of his massive black cock into her waiting pussy.

He felt his own passion begin to rise and he now was almost full buried in her pussy. It felt tight and hot as began to fuck her with long deep slow strokes. On the third deep stroke, he hit bottom and Toni moaned loudly as her pussy was filled with cock like never before. 

He turned towards Gary and told him he as going to ruin her fucking pussy for his tiny white cock. Keep watching, he told him, and I'll make this whore cum like she's never before. The men holding Toni's legs now let them go, and they rested on the massive arms of the huge black man fucking her.

Toni began to pant and moan as the massive black man began to fuck her harder and harder. The young black girl began to flick Toni's clit at a faster pace with her tongue. Gary could see Toni pumping back against them and wetness now seeping out of her aroused pussy. He could also hear the excitement as she began to moan louder and louder as she was being fucked.

The leader then signaled the girl to back off and he pushed Toni's legs back as far as he could as he rammed his massive cock at a furious pace. He lifted himself up slightly and began to fuck her with deep hard strokes, grunting loudly on each thrust. Toni began to thrash and moan, her arms now locked around the heads of the men still nursing on her nipples, holding them in place, as her eyes opened slightly as she looked up at the massive black man fucking her.

Her eyes were glassy and her mouth opened as she began to repeat, Oh God, Oh God over and over again. The leader felt her clenching her pussy tight against him, her body urging him to fuck her harder and deeper and faster. 




Cheating Wife Payback



And he did.

He began to slam his cock into the petite white woman at a tremendous pace that made the bed sag each time he pushed down into her. Toni began to make unintelligible sounds of lust as her body approached as ecstasy previously unknown to her.

The leader looked over at Gary and told him his bitch's pussy was about to explode and he was about to fill her white pussy with a load of sweet black cum. Gary tried to look away in disgust, but he could not.

The leader slammed him body into Toni and moaned he was cumming. Toni squealed and screamed and squealed as her own orgasm swept over her like a tidal wave. The leader slammed and slammed his cock into her, filling her with his cum as she began screaming and thrashing in pleasure. Her entire body felt like it was exploding in pleasure as wave after orgasmic wave hit her again and again.

It lasted over a minute. Gary had never seen anything like it and he'd never felt such humiliation. He wanted to look away, but could not. The huge black man kept pounding Toni's pussy and shooting his cum into her as she squealed in delight. When he was done, he turned and smiled at Gary and told him how Toni's pussy was still pulsating around his cock. Toni lay there shuddering and panting as he completed.

The leader slowly pulled out of Toni. He walked over to Gary, covered in sweat and smelling of lust. His cock still semi hard was coated with Toni's juices. He smiled as he stood next to Gary, holding his now softening cock inches from his face. It was shiny and coated with the combination of his and Toni's cum. Gary felt sick to his stomach and turned his head. The leader then sat in the chair next to Gary and laughed.

He told the other men it was show time. They knew what to do.

They rolled Toni over on to her stomach and propped her ass up with some pillows. There was no longer a need to hold her. She had stopped resisting quite some time ago. One got behind her and lifted up her ass. Another got in front, spread his legs and positioned his crotch by her head. Gary now had a perfect side view of the action.

One large black man behind her grabbed his big hard black cock and pushed it into Toni. He grabbed her hips and began to fuck her. Toni moaned as she pumped back against him. The one in front grabbed her head and put his cock near her mouth and pushed it in. Toni willingly took it.

The two began a perfect push and pull action, using Toni as a suck and fuck toy, and her body went willingly along with it. They fucked her slowly at first, but slowly picked up the speed and intensity of their actions. Gary saw her eyes were still half closed as she fucked back against the one young black while she allowed her mouth to be fucked by the other.

She began to moan through her cock filled mouth as the young men used her body for their pleasure. The leader called the young girl over and told her to entertain Gary as he watched. Gary could do nothing as the young girl unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. She began to suck it and despite his best efforts he got hard quickly.

The girl sucked him expertly as he now stared at Toni being fucked brutally. She was moaning and fucking back against the young black and now actively sucking off the other. Her eyes were still glassy, but now fully open.

The young black in her mouth groaned and pulled back, stroking his cock inches from Toni's face. He groaned and then pumped a huge load of cum all over his face. The other men cheered as he rubbed it in with his softening cock. Toni lowered her head in the bed and kept fucking back against the young man fucking her.

The leader got up and pulled Toni's head up and turned it towards Gary. Her face was covered in cum and she also had a look of lust he'd never seen before. He told Gary to look at his married whore and how she is loving the fucking she was getting. Gary could not look away as he watched Toni be fucked so completely

As Toni looked at Gary and moaned, the man fucking her from behind shot his load into her waiting pussy. Toni thrust back against him and sighed as Gary exploded into the young black girls mouth. His humiliation was now complete.

The next two quickly grabbed Toni and flipped her onto her back and turning her sideways on the bed so her head hung over facing Gary. One grabbed her legs and lifted them high onto his shoulders. He shoved his cock into her and began to fuck her with brutal hard thrusts. Guttural moans were all she was capable of as she was brutally fucked.

The other black positioned himself between Gary and Toni. He squatted slightly and positioned his cock at her open mouth and shoved it in. He began to roughly fuck her throat, while his friend roughly fucked Toni's pussy. Gary could see Toni's eyes as the young black man used her mouth, his balls slapping against her nose, as she was face fucked.

Toni began to gag and thrash on the bed, her arms flailing in the air, as she seemed to be having trouble getting air. The young black was shoving his cock into her throat so fast and so deep, she could barely breath. But he did not care.

They brutally used her for several minutes as Toni struggled. Gary watched, as the men got more and more forceful with her. She brought her hands to try and slow down the man fucking her mouth, but they were grabbed and held. Gary watched his black ass flex as he brutally fucked Toni's throat.

She began to scream through her cock filled mouth as her body thrashed uncontrollably. Gary thought she was losing consciousness from lack of oxygen, but he was proved wrong seconds later. Her hands went to the ass cheeks of the young black man brutalizing her throat, clamping on them, pulling him towards her as he fucked her throat deeply. Toni's eyes flew open and she screamed from her black cocked filled mouth as she experienced another huge orgasm. Her body shuddered and shook for what seemed like forever as wave after tremendous wave of pleasure swept over her.

She'd never felt anything like it. Every nerve ending in her body was exploding and it was not stopping. She went for several minutes until both men emptied their cocks into her mouth and pussy. She lay there, her body shuddering every few seconds in pleasure as the men moved away from her.

Toni lay there collapsed on the bed her head hanging slightly over the edge. She was barely conscious. She was experiencing a sexual high unlike anything she'd ever felt. Her body felt drained and her mind a pile of jumbled thoughts.

The man holding the camera was the last one to go. He handed the camera to the leader and put Toni on her hands and knees facing Gary. He grabbed her hips and shoved his hard black cock into her. She moaned as her eyes rolled back in her head.

The man fucking her grabbed Toni's hair and pulled it up so Gary could see her face as he fucked her hard and mercilessly. He looked at her cum covered face and could not turn away. The young black woman again fellated him and he got hard quickly watching Toni get fucked.

And it was all being recorded.

Gary again exploded in the young black woman's mouth as he watched Toni get fucked. Her face was contorted and twisted in pleasure. Her eyes glazed over. She looked like a room full of men could fuck her and she would love it.

The last one fucking her exploded a few minutes later and released Toni. He rolled her over on her back as four of the men surrounded her. The young black woman got between her thighs and began to lick her pussy again as they stroked their cocks hard again.

Toni was too far out of it. She lay there writhing in pleasure as the young black woman licked and sucked don her pussy as the black men encircling her body stroked their hard black cocks. One by one, they came on her, shooting their cum on her breasts, pussy, and face. She was covered with it. The leader who now had the camera panned up and down her body showing the messy display. He smiled at Gary and told him to look at his black cum slut girlfriend.

The leader then handed the camera to one of the others. There was one more thing to do.

The leader climbed on the bed and grabbed some of the cum covering Toni. He rubbed it onto his cock, coating the huge black head. He flipped Toni over onto her stomach and climbed on behind her. He rubbed his cock up and down her enflamed pussy slit, getting more and more lubrication. He stroked his cock a few times and then pointed it at her virgin asshole and pushed it in.

Toni moaned as she felt her ass being split wide open. The drug-laced pot had relaxed her body so much she could not resist even this. The leader pushed further and further into Toni tight white asshole while he looked at Gary and told him what he was doing. And he said, Look at your bitch, she's loving it. I'm going to fuck her ass raw.

The leader taunted Gary as he began to fuck Toni's ass harder and deeper. Toni did nothing to resist as the gigantic black man began to pound her ass full of black cock. She groaned in lust as her head rolled from side to side, her eyes staring blankly out to space as her ass was being assaulted.

The leader told the black girl to get under Toni and lick her pussy while he fucked her ass. The girl complied and Toni immediately began to shudder and moan. The leader told Gary he was going to make his married whore cum while he ass fucked her and he could do nothing to stop it.

He pulled Toni's hair and pointed her face right at Gary and asked Toni if she wanted to cum again. Toni was out of control. She moaned yes.

The leader began to command Toni to tell Gary how much she loved what was happening to her. In her drug induced, sex crazed haze, she said everything he wanted and more.

Yes! I love your big black cock!

Fuck my ass!

Fill my ass with your black cum!

I'm a fucking black cock whore!

Fuck my ass and make me cum!

The leader laughed and announced to Gary he was getting ready to fill his girlfriends ass with his cum. He pulled Toni's hair and pointed her face right at Gary as he slammed his cock deep and hard into her asshole and exploded.

Toni screamed as she came at the same time, her pussy and ass on fire as never before. Gary watched as her face as Toni screamed over and over again that she was cumming on his huge black cock.

The leader smiled at Gary with an evil grin as slowly pumped more and more cum into Toni's ass. He moaned deeply as he pumped and pumped until he softened. He pushed Toni down on to the bed and stood up.

As he dressed, he told Gary he had the tape, and if Gary said anything to anybody, the tape would be made public. He smiled and patted him on the cheek and told him to remember that.

The men and the woman dressed and then left the room, leaving Toni passed out on the bed. Gary had to wait over an hour before she began to come out of the drug-induced haze. She began to sob as she untied Gary and asked about what had happened.

Toni suddenly got sick and ran for the bathroom. She threw up and then took a shower, sobbing silently as she recalled some of what happened to her. When she was done, Gary and her talked further and agreed they would have to stay silent.

The divorce papers were filed and Toni began by asking for much of what Don and her had accumulated. After the first meeting at her lawyer's office, they argued.  Don then asked nicely if he could have a few minutes alone with his soon to be ex wife. She agreed.

After everyone left, he pulled out a portable DVD player and hit play. The look on her face as she watched it was priceless. Toni watched, her face ashen as she saw herself on the screen.

Five minutes later, Toni called her lawyer in and told them they had agreed on a settlement. The lawyer looked at the settlement and began to object. Her face looked blank as her lawyer quizzed her on why she would agree to such a thing.

Toni simply told him it was her wishes and she signed the agreement.

Don smiled and walked out the door a happy soon to be free man.




Cheating Wife, Sister and Me



My jaw hung open in shock as I watched the video. Bluntly, it felt like someone kicked me in the balls. On the TV was a tape of my wife and brother. They were fucking. I couldn't believe it! Not only was my wife Sally cheating on me, but also she was doing it with her sister's husband Bob to boot!

My sister Jane was standing next to me watching my reaction to the tape. She was obviously hurt and angry. She found it hidden in her husband's den only a couple of hours before. As the tape continued, I walked to the bar in the corner of the room and poured two drinks. Jane took one without a word. We watched in silence.

It was obvious Bob worked out a lot, but I was happy to see that all those muscles didn't make his cock any bigger. At least I was better built in that department. Of course, Sally seemed to be enjoying what Bob was doing to her regardless of the size of his equipment.

My wife was athletically built. She went to the gym daily and was always on my case to go to with her, but I never was into that kind of stuff. As I watched, I wondered if it would have made a difference. 

Jane went and got herself another drink. I watched her as she went. Jane was ten years younger than Sally and had far more curves than her sister. Her tits were bigger too. I'd watched her mature into a beautiful young woman over the last few years.

She and Bob married two years ago. Sally and I were married far longer and we had three children. Our twentieth anniversary was coming up soon.

"Do you know how long this has been going on?" I asked once the video ended. Sally shook her head.

"It could be years!" she snapped. I shook my head.

"No, this is something recent. Sally has been acting weird for the last month or so and now I know why," I replied.

"My own sister!" Jane said venomously. I shrugged. There was really nothing I could say that was going to make that fact any better.

"What are we going to do?" she asked, visibly shaking with anger.

"I don't know," I sighed. I was still too shocked to think clearly.

"You don't know?" she asked incredulously. I shrugged again.

"Your sister and the kids are down at the shore house this week. They won't be back for a couple of days. Your parents are staying with them. I guess I'm going to give it twenty-four hours before I make any drastic decisions." 

"Well, I know what I'm going to do!" Jane snapped. I placed my hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down.

"Isn't Bob out of town on business this week?"

"Yes," she replied, but added angrily before I could continue, "He's probably fucking someone else right now!"

"I don't think so," I said with a shake of my head.

"What?"

"Look, I know Bob pretty well and he's not the type to fuck around," I said, knowing how silly my words sounded.

"You've got to be kidding," Jane snorted. I shrugged.

"I don't know what happened, but I can't believe Sally and Bob intended what happened."

"It certainly looked intentional on that tape!" Jane cried.

"Has anything been wrong with Bob lately? I know Sally is feeling her age. She just turned thirty-nine and the thought of turning forty next year is really bothering her."

"That's some excuse!"

"I'm not saying it an excuse, but I do think it's part of the reason," I said. Jane looked at me and shook her head, but then she sighed and seemed to calm down a bit.

"We've been trying to have a baby for over a year now with no luck. I know it's bothering Bob," she replied rubbing her temples, but then the momentary calm disappeared and her eyes flashed angrily as she added, "It's bothering me too, but I didn't run off and fuck one of his brothers!"

"You're right," I said, trying to placate her. "But I still think that we should take a day to think before we do anything drastic."

"Fine! You're probably right, but I don't think it will help," she snapped. Her pain and anger were almost too much to bear.

"Why don't you come back tomorrow night and we'll talk," I offered. "By then we'll both have had time to calm down."

Jane didn't look happy, but she nodded in agreement. She pulled the tape out of the VCR and left without another word. I hoped she wouldn't do anything stupid until she calmed down.

I decided to take a shower. I felt somehow dirty. I went into the bathroom, turned on the hot water and looked at myself in the mirror. The room started to fill with steam as I continued to stare into my own eyes. It was going to be a long night and I doubted I would be going to work in the morning.

* * *

Jane was at my house early the next evening. She looked like she hadn't slept any better than I, but at least she seemed a little calmer.

"So, what did you decide?" she asked without preamble. I shrugged.

"Doesn't it bother you?" she asked incredulously.

"Sure it bothers me, but there's not a lot I can do about the past." The truth was that I was more bothered by the feeling of betrayal then by the actual action.

"Do about it? I'm going to leave Bob! You should leave Sally too!" Jane snapped. I shook my head, realizing I had actually made a decision.

"That's not going to happen. Your sister Sally and I have three children. We've spent all of our adult lives together," I sighed, and then added, "I love your sister very much and her fucking Bob isn't going to make that love go away. I'm hurt and I would like to know why she felt the need to cheat on me, but I'm not leaving her." Jane stared at me.

"You're going to forgive her," she said in amazement. I nodded. Jane shook her head as the tears started falling. I pulled her to me in a hug and she sobbed. This went on for quite a while before she could gain control of herself.

"I don't think I can forgive Bob," she finally said.

"Jane, do you really want to leave Bob?" I asked. She hesitated before shaking her head.

"But I can't just let him get away with it," she said forlornly.

"Let's have a drink," I offered. She nodded in agreement.

The first drink was more of a shot than an actual drink. The next one took longer. I excused myself to the bathroom while Jane poured the third round. I came out of the bathroom to find her watching the tape again. I sighed, walked over and turned it off.


"You know, that's not helping," I said. She shrugged. We drank the third round in silence. This time Jane excused herself to the bathroom while I poured the next round. I wasn't drunk yet, but the pain was beginning to recede a little.

Jane came out of the bathroom and walked over to me. I noticed almost immediately that something was different. First, Jane looked liked she'd made a decision. Second, it was impossible not to notice that the first few buttons of her shirt was undone and that she was no longer wearing a bra. I could see her nipples clearly through her blouse.

"Jane, what are you doing?" I asked in confusion.

"I'm going to do the one thing that might make my marriage survive Bob's cheating. I going to fuck you silly," she replied. I thought to argue, but she was already kissing me. Besides, the truth be known, even though I decided to forgive Sally, I was hurting just as bad as Jane. Fucking Jane, wrong or right, would probably help. I doubted it could hurt.

We were out of our clothes in a flash and I was surprised to see that Jane's chest was even bigger than I imagined. My wife Sally's breasts barely filled a B cup. Of course, I always thought that her nice long nipples more than made up for the size.

Yet Jane's rather large chest was a sight to see. She was probably a C cup, but it would definitely be a full C cup. Her nipples weren't as long as her sisters, but they were bigger around. She caught me looking and smiled.

"There all yours," Jane said as she lifted her breasts and squeezed them together. I finished my drink as a shot once again and buried my face between them. Jane reached down and grabbed hold of my dick.

"My, you have a big one!" she said, her desire thick in her voice. I worked my way down to her body, past her stomach and began lashing her pussy lips with my tongue. 

She leaned against the nearby wall and held my head with her hands as she moaned. Jane began trembling as soon as I concentrated on her clit. She came suddenly and I had to catch her before she fell. I carried her upstairs to my bedroom.

Jane climbed in, lay down and held her arms out to me. I crawled on top of her and kissed her deeply. The head of my dick found the entrance to her pussy and she gasped.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked. She shrugged.

"My sister, your wife, fucked my husband. I think it's only fair that I get to fuck you in her bed. This way I get even with both Bob and Sally at the same time," she replied angrily, but then she smiled and added, "Besides, I can't pass this up after seeing the size of your cock." She then gasped as she used her legs to pull me into her.

"I feel so full!"

I only had three quarters of my dick in her. I pushed again, but she cried out in pain. I tried to stop, but she wouldn't let me. She was gasping in pain and pleasure as she continued to use her legs. Her hands grabbed my ass and pulled hard to help get the last couple of inches in.

"Oh my God!" she screamed once I was fully in her. I held still until she got used to the size.

"Do it! Fuck me!" she finally said and that's exactly what I did. I pushed in and out of her slowly at first, but at her urging I was soon slamming into her. She started cumming and didn't stop. I thought she was going to pass out as she screamed out in ecstasy. 

"Jane, I'm going to cum!" I cried. She rolled us over and began bouncing on my dick.

"Do it! Fill me with your cum!" she yelled.

"But, you're not on the pill!" I cried back. If anything, that made her bounce harder and I came deep inside her. I filled her pussy with so much of my cum that it dripped down her legs.

We lay still for quite a while with her still on top of me. Finally, she lifted her head and looked at me silently.

"Are you okay?" I asked and she laughed.

"I'm great! At this moment, I don't know whether to leave Bob and never speak to Sally again or whether I should just thank them. You are amazing," she said. I laughed and rolled her off of me.

"Let's go take a shower. I want to worship those tits of yours," I said grabbing her hand. We grabbed our drink glasses, refilled them one last time as we went to the bathroom. We quickly drank our drinks while we waited for the water to regulate. We both laughed as we entered the shower.

I soaped up her tits and spent at least ten minutes rubbing them. She was soaping my cock at the same time. Once my dick was hard again, I slipped behind her, still rubbing her tits. I started kissing her neck as my cock rubbed between her ass cheeks. My dick was still soapy so it slid easily.

While we were kissing, the head of my cock pushed against her ass. She spread her legs and it slipped in seemingly of it's own volition. I gasped and tried to pull away.

"Sorry! It just seemed to fit..." I began, but Jane grinned and pushed back causing a little more of my cock to slide into her ass. I groaned.

"Don't tell me that Sally never let you fuck her there?" she teased.

"No, never," I replied.

"Well, feel free to fuck my ass as hard as you like!" she said and I damn near slammed her into the side of the shower as I shoved my cock deeper. 

She held the wall with both hands as her tits hung. At first I played with them, but soon I was holding her hips steady as I rode her ass.

"That's it! Jam that pole up my ass! Split me open!" Jane cried out in pain and pleasure. One of her hands continued to hold the wall while the other moved between her legs.

"Yes!" she cried as I continued to drive my cock deep into her ass. I could feel her ass checks clenching as she worked over her clit. Unable to resist, I shoved my cock all the way in one last time and came. I damn near lifted her off the ground. Jane joined me a moment later.

We stumbled out of the shower and back to the bedroom. The room smelled like sex and we had problems finding a dry spot on the bed. I was barely settled before Jane crawled between my legs and started blowing me.

"You're insatiable!" I said.

"Vengeance is a lot sweeter than I thought it would be," she shrugeed. I shook my head. She was a vindictive bitch, but god was she hot!

Jane wrapped her tits around my dick and jerked me off as soon as I was hard again. She was still doing this when Sally walked in on us.

"Jane! How could you?" Sally cried, but Jane just snorted.

"How could I? You've got to be kidding! Go check out the VCR downstairs. It's the tape Bob made of you and him fucking," Jane said and then sucked my cock down her throat.

"Where are the kids?" I asked uncomfortable. I tried to move, but Jane was having none of it. She wanted Sally to see us together.

"I left them at my parents. I was going to surprise you with a night out alone," she said, obviously in shock.

"Well, I guess the surprise is on you. Did you really expect that no one would ever find the tape Bob made of you two fucking?" Jane said. Sally shook her head.

"Your mistake," Jane said, and then added cruelly, "Well, was it worth it?" Sally burst into tears and ran out of the room. Instead of feeling vindicated, I felt terrible. I pushed Jane away and followed Sally. I caught up to her in the living room. She was watching the video of her and Bob. She looked at me with tear filled eyes.

"I'm so sorry!" she cried between sobs. "It all started out innocently last month. Bob was down because Jane wasn't getting pregnant. We had a few drinks and I don't remember exactly how it happened, but we ended up sleeping together. Can you ever forgive me?" she asked. I started to answer, but Jane came into the room first.

"You believe all that bullshit? That may have been the first time, but what about all the others? She certainly seems to be enjoying the sex in that film," Jane said angrily. Sally turned red in embarrassment.

"It was only twice," she said glumly, knowing that didn't make it sound any better. 

"The second time Bob called me and asked me to come over so that we could talk. I was surprised when I got there to find that he had the camera out. He showed me a video of Jane and him playing around. We agreed that we couldn't keep having an affair, but Bob wanted a video to remember our time together."

"And you just couldn't deny him?" Jane asked snidely.

"I planned on!" Sally began, but then added softly, "But the video of you two together really turned me on. I'd never seen a porn film and watching my own sister involved in one really got to me."

"You got turned on watching me?" Jane asked incredulously. Sally refused to look at either one of us, but she nodded. I shook my head. I was amazed at what Sally was saying.

"Jane, Sally and I married early in life. It only makes sense that she would wonder what she missed out by marrying me so young. I've wondered myself."

"Did you cheat on her?" Jane asked. I shook my head.

"Not until today," I replied. Sally became even more miserable.

"I really am sorry! I love you very much and don't want to lose you," Sally said. I smiled despite the situation. My biggest fear was that Sally didn't still love me. Now I knew she did.

"You won't. I wish you had talked to me before going off on your own. We might have done something together."

"Together?" she asked. She sounded a bit stunned.

"Sure. Sally, I have my own fantasies that I'd like to fulfill. I just never brought them up because you seemed so old fashioned I thought you would be angry. I didn't want to lose you."

"Really?" she asked, her despair starting to be replaced with hope. I pulled her to me and kissed her deeply in reply.

"So you'd let another man fuck your wife?" Jane asked in amazement. I shrugged and smiled.

"I don't have a problem with Sally fucking someone else, just as long as I'm there and she comes home with me."

"Amazing," Jane said, not sure what else to say.

"Jane, for what it's worth, Bob told me that I was the only woman he ever cheated on you with. I believe him. Bob does love you," Sally said, still holding me. Jane just shook her head.

I pulled Sally back into a kiss. I was still naked, but Sally was fully dressed. I started removing her clothes. She quickly started helping me.

"Hey, what about me?" Jane asked. Sally looked at me as if asking permission. I nodded, not sure where this was going. My wife looked at her sister and grinned.

"Jane, you're welcome to join us," she offered. "I told you, I really enjoyed watching you fuck Bob. I think watching you and my husband together would be a blast!" I should have been as stunned as Jane looked, but I was too turned on by the woman I married.

Sally and I didn't wait for Jane's reply. I carried Sally to our bedroom and threw her facedown on the bed. She complained about the smell and the fact that the sheets were already used, but she stopped complaining when I pushed my cock into her pussy. I held her hips as I pushed in and out.

"That's it, fuck me baby!" she cried. Sally never talked dirty during sex before. I had a feeling that I was in for a hell of a ride. We were really going at it when I was surprised to feel a hand on my balls.

"So you decided to join us," I said to Jane. She shrugged, smiled and kissed me.

"I'm not about to pass up the chance to fuck that cock of yours again," she said when the kiss was done. She then smacked Sally ass hard. Sally yelped.

"Besides, I still haven't punished this slut for fucking my husband," she said just before adding another slap.

"Hey! Cut that out," I snapped. I loved Sally and didn't want to see her hurt.

"It's okay! I deserve it," Sally said, surprising me, but I think Jane expected it.

"So big sister, you like it rough," Jane said knowingly as she twisted one of Sally's nipples none to gently. Sally screamed out in pain and pleasure. I thought to intervene, but Sally started cumming and I had to shrug to myself. This would definitely be worth exploring later.

Jane pulled me away and mounted my cock. It took a few minutes but soon she was bouncing on my cock once again. I was close to cumming when Sally finally recovered from her orgasm. She gave me a juicy kiss before grabbing the base on my cock. 

"Hey, stop that you're breaking my rhythm!" Jane complained. Sally smiled, removed her hand and pulled Jane into a kiss. The kiss was long and wet, but when they broke apart, Jane continued to complain.

"Dyke bitch!" she yelled, honestly surprised by Sally's action. My wife just smiled.

"I told you that watching you turned me on. What did you expect would happen in you joined us?" Sally replied, and then reached down and rubbed Jane's clit. Jane started panting hard.

"I don't like women! Get your hand out of there!" she demanded, but Jane didn't do anything to make Sally stop.

"I've never been with a woman before. I'm guessing that neither have you. How do you know you won't like it?" Sally asked.

"But I'm your sister!" Jane cried. Sally ignored her.

"I wonder if that mouth of yours is useful for anything other than bitching," Sally replied, and then kissed her younger sister again.

"Wow! Sally that's really hot! I wish I had known years ago that you were into women," I said with a grin. Sally shrugged.

"Who knew? I never really thought about it until I saw the video," she said before bending forward and sucking one of Jane's nipples. Jane screamed and started cumming. 

I tried to hold out, but I blew my load deep into her pussy. Jane surprised us both when she grabbed her sister by the hair and pulled her mouth to hers while in the middle of her orgasm.

Sally took my dick in her mouth and cleaned it once we were done cumming.

"That's gross! His cock has my pussy juice all over it," Jane said with a grimace. Sally smiled and pushed her sister onto her back. She climbed up and sat down on Jane's tits. Her pussy was only inches away from Jane's mouth. Jane fought for a moment, but Sally was stronger and was already on top of her sister.




Cheating Wife, Sister and Me



"It's my turn to cum and since you just used my husband's cock to get off, you'll have to take his place. Eat me Jane!" Sally demanded. I watched in amazement. I was seeing a side of Sally I didn't even know she had. Jane argued, but Sally was having none of it. She slid her pussy over her sister's mouth and groaned a moment later when Jane's tongue slid into her pussy.

"That's it Janey! Right there!" Sally cried. They remained like that for a few minutes before Jane toppled Sally off of her.

"Hey!" complained Sally, but Jane just laughed. She then fell into the sixty-nine position with my wife. I watched as Jane's tongue snaked in and out of her sister. Sally hesitated a moment before driving her own tongue into Jane's pussy. 

It was obvious that both women were into what they were doing. They continued for quite some time and I think they both had at least one orgasm. My dick was finally hard once again and I was trying to decide what I should do with it. Jane saw my dilemma and winked at me as she slipped a finger into Sally's ass. Sally groaned.

Jane continued to play with Sally's ass as she ate her out. A few minutes later Jane motioned to me to come near. She grabbed my cock and put the head at Sally ass. I pushed an inch or so into my wife's ass before she realized what was happening.

"Wait!" she cried, but Jane concentrated on her clit and Sally lost her train of thought. I slipped another inch in.

"Stop, that hurts!" Sally cried. Jane slapped my wife's ass hard.

"But it feels good too, doesn't it?" she asked my wife. Sally groaned. I slipped another inch or so in.

"Yes!" Sally cried.

"Then shut up and enjoy it!" Jane demanded and slapped Sally's ass again. She crawled under Sally and started teasing her clit.

I continued to push my cock into Sally's ass. It was tight as hell and I wasn't sure whether she was really enjoying herself.

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked.

"No! Give me it all. Fuck my ass!" Sally cried. I rammed the remainder of my cock deep into her. She started cumming. I felt her spasm with each thrust.

I was fucking Sally's ass hard and with each thrust, my balls slapped Jane in the forehead. I came a few minutes later. Sally and I lay spent while Jane took turns kissing us. She obviously needed to cum badly.

My wife and I went to Jane's pussy once we were able to move again. We ate her out together. We let our tongues slip down to her ass every once in a while. It wasn't long before Jane was begging me to fuck her again. 

I put her on all fours and starting fucking her. Sally leaned between us and drove her tongue into Jane's ass. It was too much for Jane and she locked up in orgasm. It was also too much for me. My wife was really giving her sister's asshole a workout. I came deep in my sister once again.

The three of us lay on the soaked bed for some time. When we finally moved, it was slowly. We took separate showers, dressed and met in the kitchen. Sally fixed us something to eat.

"I'm starved," Jane said.

"Me too," I added.

"I think we all worked up a good appetite," Sally smiled. We ate in silence for the most part. We were all deep in thought. I saw Sally working herself up to ask a question. She finally looked at me after we were done eating.

"So, we're okay?" she asked nervously. We stared at each other for a few moments and then I nodded. Sally smiled in relief.

"How about you?" Sally asked her sister.

"Well, I don't know," Jane replied honestly, but then she grinned and asked, "Do you mean about you and Bob or the fact that I just found out I'm a lesbian who enjoys incest?"

"You're not a lesbian," I said with a grin.

"He's right," Sally added. "You're a bisexual woman who enjoys incest." Jane couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing. Sally and I joined her, but eventually the laughter died.

"Jane, give Bob a chance," Sally said more seriously. Jane sighed.

"I'll think about it."

"And talk to him about your inability to have a baby. You probably both need to have that conversion. It might be time to visit a fertility clinic."

"One thing at a time," Jane said with a grimace. She looked a bit bewildered.

"Hey, you can use my husband as a stud for a slight fee if it turns out to be a problem with Bob," Sally joked, trying to make her sister smile. If anything, Jane grew more serious as she placed her hand on her stomach.

"That problem may already be resolved if the issue is Bob. This week is the best time for me to get pregnant and your husband already did quite a job of filling me with his seed."

Sally's eyebrows, and mine for that matter, raised in surprised. We looked at each other and then at Jane. Finally, we all just shrugged.

"That's an issue for another day," Sally said.

"If ever," Jane added.

"Well, let us know if you do decide to forgive Bob," I said, changing the subject. "He and I are due to have an interesting conversation in either case, but if all goes well and you and he are okay, I think I would like to see him and Sally together in real life. I'm guessing it will be better than the video."

"Just as long as I get a chance with you again," Jane said with a shake of her head. She then looked at Sally and smiling added, "You too."

"You can count on that in either case," Sally replied.

Jane gave us each a hug and then left. Sally and I looked at each other for a few minutes in silence.

"So, what now?" Sally asked. I shrugged at first, but then sighed. I realized that we needed a few ground rules in place.

"First, I think we should agree that we won't fool around with anyone unless we both agree. No more affairs," I said succinctly. Sally blushed and nodded in agreement.

"We have to be careful with the children. I don't want this new life style to affect them at all," Sally put in.

"Agreed."

"Can you think of anything else?" Sally asked. I grinned.

"Well, there is still the matter of your punishment."

"Punishment?" Sally asked, her eyes sparkling.

"Well, now that I know you like a little pain, I think we should go back to the bedroom. After all, the kids aren't home."

"What are you planning?" Sally asked nervously. I just smiled.

We spent the next few hours pleasuring each other in all kinds of new ways. Not everything we tried worked out, but when it didn't we just laughed and moved on to the next thing. Sally and I shared all of our fantasies for the first time in our twenty years of marriage. We obviously couldn't fulfill them all that night, but we made a good start.

The sun was only an hour or two from rising when we were finally too exhausted to try anything else, but neither of us were ready for sleep. We took a shower one more time and moved to the guest bedroom. It had clean sheets and a beautiful view of the east. 

We lay together talking like we hadn't done in years. I'm not even sure what we discussed, but in the end I felt closer to my wife then ever before. The rising sun found us asleep in each others arms. 



Cheating Wife - Spying Husband



This is an original work of erotic fiction. It employs intensely graphic sexual descriptions and explicit sexual language, and is intended only for an adult audience. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by sexually explicit situations, then please do not read this story.

If you agree to and comply with these terms, then scroll down to begin the story.

@Copyright 2009 by Don.Key12

Unlimited redistribution permitted, as long as this original author copyright notice remains attached.


Chapter One – The Suspicions

I could sense that something was different; something was not quite right between us. After two years of marriage, the newness of our relationship had worn off, and the excitement of being together had turned into more of an obligation. There was now a feeling of distance, a gap that had somehow grown noticeably greater just in the last few days. 

Michele and I were both working long hours at our jobs, trying to stand out as high performers, and hoping for quick career advancement. The strain of this sustained effort took its toll on our relationship, and we were most often too tired to do much more than say goodnight when it was time for bed.

But all that changed for Michele. One night, not long ago, she came home from work much later than usual. She didn't call, as she often did, to say she was running late. The noticeable difference that night was her energy level. Instead of dragging herself into the bathroom and then flopping into bed, she almost flew through the house, with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. 

I got up from the couch and headed to bed, and I heard the shower running. She usually just pees and puts on her cotton nightshirt before crashing, but here she was, in the shower. I heard her say, "I'll just be a minute. I need to wash off a layer of this work stress." She never showered before bed before, except when coming home from volleyball. Why tonight, then? Something felt not quite right.

She bounced out of the shower in her robe, and went into her walk-in closet, emerging in her cotton nightshirt. Things were looking more like normal again. She went off to the kitchen for a glass of water before bed. I was already in bed, but decided to take a quick leak before sleep. I got up and went into the bathroom, which also contained the tub/shower. I closed the door, lifted the seat, and started to pee. I looked up and saw something that made me do a double-take. There was a very sexy pair of panties and a sexy bra hanging from the hook on the back of the door. "Whose were these?" I thought to myself. 

Michele has never been very feminine when it comes to her underwear. It's always been cotton full briefs and plain white cotton bras. I have purchased a couple of sexy things for her to wear in the past, but she was not excited by them in the least. She said that she wouldn't even try them on, that they would make her look cheap, and asked me to return them. "What were you thinking about when you bought this?" she had asked, sarcastically. Clearly, I was thinking about sex. I guessed that she just wasn't in the right mood for any romantic overtures. Lately, she's never been in the right mood. That's why these sexy undies were a curious sight.

Well, my attention was now on these items, hanging there, a foot from my face. I saw a lacy white underwire bra, front hook, with push up pads. Hanging in front of it was a pair of white silk panties with a lace trim. I touched the bra, and felt the push up pad. Yes, it was not my imagination; there it was, really there. I felt the silk on the panties, and admired the high cut legs and their shiny texture. Then, my eye caught a glimpse of something else. I looked more closely at the crotch of the panty, where there was a cotton shield sewn into the silky panty bottom. There was something there, not quite the same color as the cotton, and it seemed to have some sort of texture to it. I felt the crotch with my thumb, and it felt a little wet and sticky. If I didn't know better, I would have thought that it was a dab of cum. I gave it a sniff, and smelled a musky odor that could have been just the residual perspiration from a long day of wearing the panties, but I wasn't sure what this sticky spot was all about. Was she getting another yeast infection? I flinched at the thought of that, since that would put yet another damper and time-out on our already too-infrequent sex life.

I got back into bed, and debated whether or not to ask her about the lingerie in the bathroom. She came back from the kitchen, now yawning and dragging her feet, and flopped into bed. She was putting on her usual performance, clearly showing me that she was tired. When she does that, there is no room for

conversation, especially of a possible sexual nature. I let it go for now as she pulled the covers over herself and rolled over, away from me, mumbling "G'nite, honey". That was a clear signal to me to leave her alone and let her get to sleep.

When I got up the next morning, I went to take a leak, and noticed that the bra and panties were no longer hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Sometime during the night, she must have remembered them, and slipped out of bed to put them away. Or did I just imagine them there, or see it in a dream? Who knows?

Nothing else unusual happened along these lines for the next week. I made an effort to try and watch her undress after she got home from work. She has always been a bit shy about that, and when she caught me looking at her undressing, she shut the closet door tight and said, "I need my privacy, you know." I saw only the outline of her regular cotton bra under her top, and there were only her cotton panties in the hamper when I did the wash later that week.

Chapter Two: The Suitcase

The next week, she had to go out of town on business. On the day she left, I went to work at my regular time, while she stayed home and finished packing, since she was headed directly to the airport from home. 

We talked on the phone for a few minutes each day while she was gone, and everything sounded all right. She had an evening flight back, but the connection into Dallas was late. She made the plane for home just in time, but her suitcase didn't make that last connection. When she got home, she said that the airline would deliver her suitcase to the house tomorrow. We went to right to bed and to sleep, both of us again tired from a long day.

The next day, things at work went well for me, and I came home a little early to catch up on chores. I wasn't expecting Michele home for at least a couple of hours. After I parked the car in the garage, I saw that, next to the back door, was her suitcase, where the airline had dropped it off earlier that day.

I brought the suitcase in and set it on the bed. Something in my brain rang a little bell, and my intuition said that I needed to see exactly what was in this suitcase, based on the little incident with the lingerie in the bathroom last week.

I opened the suitcase locks with the spare key, and popped the levers to open the suitcase. Inside, there were her business suits, but under them, there was something I hadn't seen before. It was a short, black

cocktail dress. I took it out and held it up, and couldn't believe my eyes. The Michele that I know would never even consider wearing something like this! It was very low cut, with a built-in bra and a flirty chiffon skirt. Next to it in the suitcase were a pair of three inch black patent leather heels, and

inside one shoe was a pair of black pantyhose. It certainly looked like she dressed up for some occasion that she didn't mention. She had never dressed like that for me, though. It's almost always pantsuits. I can't even get her to wear a skirt and heels when we go out, much less a sexy short dress like this one.

I looked a bit further into the suitcase, and found three bra and panty sets, all of them lacy and sexy. I'd never seen those before either, nor had I ever seen her wear anything feminine and sexy like that. She has always been comfortable in that boring cotton granny underwear of hers that she has worn since before we were married. All three sets looked like they had been worn. I imagined what she must have looked like wearing them, and felt my tummy flip and my cock start to stiffen. But the most surprising discovery was a cream-colored silk and lace teddy. I looked at it closely, and the silk was all wrinkled, as if it had been slept in. There was a sizable stain about mid-way down the front. If I didn't

know better, it looked as though there might have been some sex involved with this teddy.

I felt confused and suspicious by these discoveries, but I knew that I just needed to put things back like they were, re-lock the suitcase and pretend like I had no knowledge of any of this possibly incriminating evidence. So, I replaced the items, and left the locked suitcase on the bed for her to unpack when she got home.

I figured that I would hang around the bedroom once she got home, and see how she was going to handle the unpacking. I wanted to act surprised at her wardrobe, and maybe ask if she would try in on for me. No such luck. When she got home an hour later, she saw the suitcase on the bed, but she said that she was too worn out from yesterday's trip and a long day today to feel like unpacking tonight. She set the suitcase in the corner by the bed, and got ready for bed. I watched her through the gap in the partially closed door to her walk-in closet, and saw that when she took off her pantsuit, she had on the same old cotton underwear that she always wore. So, something certainly was different about what was going on today compared to what went on during her trip. It certainly increased my level of suspicion.

Chapter Three - The Stash

She slept in late the next morning. I had to get to work, so I missed out on the suitcase unpacking. That afternoon, she called me at work and said she needed to stay an hour or two extra, and asked me to hold up making dinner until she got home. I left work at my usual time, and got home to find my curiosity still aroused by the suitcase contents. 

I went to her walk-in closet and began poking around in the mess of boxes, plastic storage bins and gym bags that were in there. She was an athlete, and had several gym bags for her volleyball, running, softball, tennis, etc. I looked in a few storage boxes with no success, and then thought to look in a gym bag that I hadn't seen her use in a while. I pulled it out from under a pile of folded sweat pants, and unzipped the top. I lifted up the grey sweat pants that were on the very top of its contents. What I uncovered was difficult to comprehend at first, but then it hit me: here was her stash! 

There were several sets of bras and panties all neatly folded on one side of the bag. I pulled out a bra, and saw that it was a pink demi-cup push-up that must have barely covered her nipples. The matching panties were French cut, and were made of Lycra with a lace trim. Under this set I had just removed was the white bra/panty set that I saw hanging on the back of the bathroom door a week ago, judging by my recollection of its color and style. Wow! I would have never thought that she would ever

own this sort of sexy lingerie. Of course, my suspicions were raised even further now, since now I knew that she was clearly hiding this stuff from me. I knew there must be a reason for this sort of deception, and it must be about some wilder side of her that she was concealing. 

The rest of the contents of the bag were along the same lines: two lacy teddies (neither one was the cream color that I had seen in the suitcase the day before) and several pairs of expensive pantyhose (Hanes Ultra Sheer), still in their store boxes. Also in the bag was one pair of black three inch heels with ankle straps, and the same black pumps I saw in the suitcase the day before. No sign of the short black dress or lingerie from the suitcase, though. 

I continued the search. I opened a plastic keeper in the corner, removed a layer of bed sheets lying on the top of its contents, and there I found the rest of it. I saw the black dress, the black hose, the cream color teddy and three bra/panty sets. This must be the dirty laundry stash. I'll bet she runs this over to the cleaners or does some wash while I'm not around. Quite a little scam she has going here, I thought. I put everything back in its place and went to the kitchen to get a beer, and to sit and think about what all of this might mean, and what to do next. 

My jealous thoughts turned to spying on her. While she worked late at least one day a week, she also played sports on other nights. I imagined that her regular sports schedule would allow her time to do things other than sports, if she chose to use it as a cover. Her regular volleyball night was on Thursday, so I had an idea.

I'm a pretty sharp technical person with electronics, so I went out and bought a miniature wireless microphone and a hand-held scanner. I tried it out, and found, as I suspected, that the scanner's superior sensitivity allowed me to hear the wireless microphone clearly at a range of over a block. I thought that the two small hearing aid batteries should power the microphone for at least one day's worth of monitoring. 

I got up early on Thursday morning, and went to the kitchen to perform my task. I took an Exacto knife, and carefully slit the lining of her purse. I turned the microphone on, and inserted it into the gap in the lining. I used a small dot of glue to hold it firmly in place, and a piece of double faced tape to close up the small slit that I had made in the lining. My patch job was neat, and it was impossible to tell that the purse had been tampered with. I turned on the scanner, and tested the channel. It was working fine. The microphone was placed high enough in the purse to pick up the slightest sound I made. I was ready to do some spy work now.

Chapter Four – The Spying Begins

That afternoon, I came home from work as usual. I called her at work, like I usually do. She said that volleyball was still on for tonight, and that she would be going out for a beer or two afterwards, so don't wait up. I told her to have fun, and that I was going to run to the grocery store for a few things, then come home and watch some TV. She said goodbye and we hung up. Then I got into action. 

I drove to her work, and parked near her office building. I was still a few blocks away, but close enough to where I could still see her car. I waited until she came out. She walked to her car, got in, but did not head toward the Rec Center, where the volleyball games were held. Instead, she drove off in the opposite direction, leaving the office complex and heading into a residential area.

I followed at some distance, and at one point lost sight of her. I thought I saw her car turn into a side street several blocks up, and I took a chance that it was her. I passed by the street and turned at the

next block. I pulled over and switched on the scanner. The signal was strong, so I knew I was close by. Over the scanner, I heard her car door slam, and I also heard the unusual sound (for her) of high heels clicking on the concrete. Shrubbery had obscured my view of her in the office parking lot. I couldn't see her closely as she left the office, so I didn't notice if she had changed clothes there before leaving. I

suspected that she did, now.

She continued walking for another minute or so. It appeared that she had parked intentionally a distance away from her destination to avoid any association if she were to be spotted by someone. Then I saw her, a block away, walking up the same side of street that I was parked on now! I panicked, and wondered what to do next. If she got much closer, she would likely spot my car, even though it was a common make and color. But just then, she turned and walked up a driveway, towards the back of a house at the far end of the block. I could see her clearly enough now to tell that she was NOT wearing what she wore to work today (an ugly brown pantsuit), but instead was wearing something I hadn't seen on her before: a short, tight black skirt, with a dark blouse and a suit jacket to match the skirt. She also had on black hose and those strappy heels that I had discovered earlier in the week.

On the scanner, I heard a door open and close, and heard a kiss, then another, then a moan, almost like purring. A man's voice appeared. He said that she looked great tonight, and she replied that she didn't have a lot of time, so could he just pour some wine and we'll sit. There was no conversation after that, and she didn't say his name, so I had no clue as to who he was. There was something that sounded like more kissing and some heavy breathing. Then I heard them walk across what sounded like a wood floor and heard a door squeak open. It was clear that she had carried her purse with her into what I assumed was the bedroom, since the noise of their movements over the wireless microphone was still loud and clear.

It sounded like they almost broke the bed when they fell onto it, and I heard her start to moan and breath in heavy gasps. She said, "Oh, touch me, touch me, baby!" and he replied, "I love it when you wear stockings for me." "That's not all I wore for you tonight," she responded. There were more

kissing sounds and heavy breathing noises, combined with the rustling of clothes coming off. He must have been impressed by whatever she had on, since he said next, "Oh, baby, you look so hot in that!" The bed creaked a little more, and then he said "God, you're so wet!" She was breathing hard now, and she said, in a breathless voice, "Fuck me, fuck me now!" 

There was no more talking after that. The bed was creaking, and she was moaning in a repetitive "Oh! Oh! Oh!", keeping time with his every stroke. After about ten solid minutes of hearing his balls slap, slap, slap against her pussy, I heard her begin that little grunting, mewing, choking sound she makes when she comes. Then, she surprised the hell out of me by vocalizing her orgasm. She never has said a word with me, just a few grunts and she was done. But with this guy, she was uninhibited and

cried out over and over again, "Oh, Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! You're so big in me! You're so big! Oh, God! Oh, God!"

I was flushed, and I found myself with a stiff cock in my pants from listening to my otherwise not very sensual wife lose herself to this guy's cock. I was breathing hard and a little dizzy, and I had what I

think was a panic attack. I shut off the scanner, started the car, and drove home, shaking from the shock. 

Chapter Five - The Evidence

I got home somehow without getting into a traffic accident. I went to the bar, got a lowball glass and poured about three fingers of Jack Daniels. I sat in my chair, stunned. I sipped the bourbon, and wondered what to do when she came home. Confrontation wasn't my style. I found I had finished the drink. Unable to cope with this anymore, I just went into the bedroom, got out of my clothes and went to bed.

I was awakened some time later by her arrival at home. She was trying to be quiet, but I was a light sleeper. She entered the bedroom, wearing her volleyball uniform and carrying her gym bag. Obviously part of the deception, I thought to myself. What a liar! I knew where she really was. I stirred and sat up when she turned on the closet light. I asked, "How was volleyball?" She replied, with her obviously well rehearsed story, "Oh, we lost, and we went out for a beer afterwards. I need a shower." She put the gym bag away and went into the bathroom. I watched the door close, then heard the water start. I jumped out of bed, and went to the closet. Her gym bag was there, near the rear of the closet, beneath her shoe shelves. I pulled the bag out and undid the zipper. 




Cheating Wife - Spying Husband



Her brown pantsuit was on top in the bag. I removed it, and there was the black skirt, blouse and jacket that I saw her wearing on the street. I pushed that aside, and underneath it I discovered a long black bustier, complete with garters. It was a front zip, with stays all around and underwire push-up bra cups. I picked it up, and immediately smelled the perspiration from it. My hand went inside it, and I could feel the dampness in the fabric from her sweat. She must have gotten quite a workout, judging by how wet and smelly it was. Then I saw the black nylon stockings. I remembered her lover commenting about the stockings, and I guess the bustier was her little surprise for him. The black stockings were made of very sheer nylon, and I noticed some darkness around the thicker stocking tops where the garters attached. I felt the dark area, and it was wet and sticky. I brought it up to my nose, and

recognized the unmistakable smell of a man's cum. His juices must have run down her legs and onto the stocking tops. 

Here I sat, in her closet, stunned, confronted by the undeniable physical evidence of her infidelity. I quickly regained my senses, realizing that she would be out of the shower very soon. I carefully put the items back in the bag, placed it back under the shoe shelf, and exited the closet. I just got back under the covers when I heard the water shut off.

I tried hard to get my pulse and respiration back to normal before she came out of the bathroom. Thank goodness that only the closet light was on, and not a bed lamp, or my flushed condition might have given me away. Anyway, she opened the bathroom door and walked back into her closet, wearing a towel. She changed into her cotton nightshirt, turned out the closet light and climbed into bed. 

"Long day, good night, honey," she whispered as she rolled over and fluffed her pillow for sleep. I pretended to be asleep and said nothing in reply.

I felt sorry for myself. We hadn't had sex in two months, and when we did, it wasn't all that good. She wasn't much into foreplay, so she never really allowed herself to get her motor going. She wouldn't let me eat her (she said that was nasty) and wouldn't let me pet her or finger her until she was wet. Instead, she had me use lubricated condoms (I guess because she never did get very wet) and then just sort of laid there and allowed me to pump her until I came. The last few times, I even had to fake that, since it just wasn't working for me either. Yet, I had heard this same woman, not three hours ago, slamming her pussy up against a pair of pounding balls, and crying out with a crushing orgasm. 

Where had we gone wrong? What have I failed to do to keep her? My overloaded brain forced me into a fitful night's sleep.

Chapter Six - The Interest Aroused

The next morning, it was as if nothing unusual had happened. I showered, dressed and left for work, leaving her still in bed. I was lucky to have another easy day at work, because I was totally distracted by the events of last night. When she called in mid-afternoon to say she would be working late again, I just said OK and see you later, like some sort of zombie. I left work early, since I wasn't getting anything done, and headed for home.

I got in the door, poured myself a drink, and sat down. After a few minutes, my curiosity got going again. I was wondering what she did with last night's clothes, and if there was any other evidence that I had yet to discover. 

I headed to the closet, now more confident in what I might find there. I looked for the gym bag under the pile of sweats, and, yes, it was still there. I got it out, and opened it up. Inside, I found both pairs of high heels, and all of the lacy underwear that I had previously seen. All three teddies were now in there as well, so it looked as if she had time to do her wash since her trip. I looked up at her rack of suits, and pawed through her dry cleaning bagged items. There, carefully tucked away under a raincoat, was the little black dress, now cleaned and hung up. The short black skirt and coat she wore last night was also hung up there, mixed in with her other work clothes. Since all of the items seemed to be accounted for, I was assuming that tonight she really was working late tonight, and not off somewhere with "him".

I poked around a bit more, but did not find any other hiding places or unusual items. Finally, I turned toward the plastic storage keeper, where I knew her soiled clothes were hidden. I pulled it out, took a big breath and let out a sigh, knowing what I would find. I popped the cover and removed the bed sheets from the top of the pile again. There it was, the black bustier that I saw briefly last night when she got home. Next to it were the black nylon stockings as well. I took the bustier and stockings out, and brought them out, onto the bed, where I could see them better in the light from the window.

I examined the bustier, taking my time now, since Michele wasn't due home for several hours. It still smelled strongly of perspiration, and it was still damp on the inside. On the outside, in front, a few inches from the bottom, there was a large dark area. I felt it, and smelled it, and I knew at once that it was a cum stain. Up near the space right between the bra cups, there was yet another spot, and it, too, was easily identified as another cum stain. That bitch! She would never, EVER let

me cum on her when we made love! She said it was gross and nasty. Now, here was the proof that she not only permitted it, but must have encouraged it. 

I looked next at the stockings, and spread them out across the bedspread. I could see the drip lines down the stockings, how his cum must have run down her legs as she stood up to take off the stockings and bustier. I had a sudden flash, and I went back in her closet to the hamper. Her volleyball uniform was there near the top, and right under it was a Lycra sports brief that she usually wore under the tight fitting volleyball shorts to firm up her tummy a little and look good in the shorts. I lifted the sports brief up and out of the hamper, and returned to the bed. 

In the strong sunlight, I could see what I had feared I would find. In the crotch of the brief, which she wore home as a part of her volleyball uniform disguise after her tryst, was a large, sticky mass of cum. 

Judging by the amount, the guy must have pumped her full of his seed more than once, and then it flowed out as she was driving home. I guess she didn't think to hide this brief, since she probably figured that any wetness might have dried up long before wash day, which was several days

away. 

Looking at this cum-strewn mess, I found myself getting very aroused. I have always been interested in women's underwear. I follow the sales circulars in the Sunday paper to see the newest styles. I find myself sneaking a peek at a bra whenever I see a blouse gapping open at the buttons. I look at visible outlines of bras and panties through clothes and try to guess at the style and brand. I sometimes cruise through the lingerie section of a big department store and touch the fine fabric of lacy bras 

and panties. In short, I have always had a "thing" for lingerie. And now, I was looking down at a provocative bustier and the matching stockings that clearly had been involved in a recent, very strong sexual encounter. I touched my hard cock through the fabric of my pants, and I felt a rush of hormones flood through my blood. What came over me next is something that I can't explain, but something that I suppose made sense, given these energy-charged circumstances, my extended period of Michele-imposed celibacy, and my fondness for fine lingerie. 

I found myself getting out of my clothes, and standing next to the bed, naked. I need to add that Michele was a rather large and big-boned woman, and in many ways about the same size as me. I took the bustier and wrapped it around my chest. I started the zipper at the bottom, sucked in my tummy and chest, and pulled it up tight. I could feel the stays in the bustier holding tightly to my sides, chest and tummy. I could feel a little clammy chill from the dampness still inside the garment, and I could smell the strong, musky odor of her sweat (and his cum, I suppose) rising from the fabric. 

Then, I sat down on the bed, and took up a stocking. Having had some experience with stockings and garters from previous girlfriends before I was married, I knew how to roll up the stocking until I could just get my toes into it, and then gently roll it all the way up my leg and thigh. It fit surprisingly well. After doing the same with the other stocking, I stood up, bent over as much as I could, and attached the garters. My cock at this point felt like it was made out of wood and standing straight up. 

To complete the effect, I picked up the sports brief, bent over to slip it over my stocking-covered feet (not an easy thing to do in the bustier) and stepped into it. I pulled it up over the stockings, all the way up tight to my waist, and I could feel the wetness of "his" cum on the bottom of my balls. 

I fell back onto the bed, on my back. I pushed the sports brief to one side and extracted my hard cock. All I could imagine at that point was how she must have felt, with him mounted on her, deep in her, pumping her pussy and slapping his groin into her hot clit. In my mind, I could still hear her crying out again, saying, "Oh! Oh! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" I had my cock firmly in my hands now, and I was stroking it like the madman I was. The sensory overload from the bustier and its stays, the nylon

stockings, the Lycra panty and the wet cum at the base of my balls drove me into a frenzy. I was breathing hard, getting dizzy. Then I exploded into my hand, and the cum shot out and over, onto the stockings. It was by far the most powerful orgasm that I had ever experienced in my life. I felt completely spent, and I just lay there, with my cum-covered hands still gripping my cock.

I came back to reality eventually, and looked over what I had just done. Instead of feeling guilty about wearing her clothes and using her infidelity as a stimulant, I felt like it was a payback for what she had

done to me, and I deserved the pleasure I got from it. I got up, went to the sink, and began to clean up after myself. I took off the sports brief, then the stockings, and then unzipped the bustier. I gathered it

all up and replaced it back in the plastic storage container where it belonged, except for the sports brief, which I returned to its place the hamper. Then, I took a long, hot shower and scrubbed myself all over in an attempt to cleanse myself of the pain of her cheating and her/his scent of sex.

Chapter Seven – The Observation Post

Afterwards, I was consumed with jealously and curiosity. I decided that I needed to learn more about what was going on, including the guy's name and the true extent of their relationship. I bought a telephone call recording device that activated every time the phone was off the hook. I also found the radio frequency for our cordless phone, so I could monitor her conversations in real time using my scanner. With this equipment in place, I was now ready to find out what I needed to know.

There were a few short calls, nothing of any substance, during the following week. I found out that he had a wife, so Michele couldn't call him and he could only call when he knew, from her intelligence info, when I wasn't home. Apparently, their last encounter was at his house when his wife was out of town. They weren't comfortable with just getting a room on the other side of town as an alternate location. That thought gave me an idea.

I inspected our house layout, and found that the storage closet in the back hall that backed up to the master bedroom could be turned into an excellent observation post with just a little handiwork. Since I was also competent in general home repair, it was not difficult for me to carefully remove a small section of the drywall in the storage closet, then locate a spot on the corresponding bedroom wall to create a small, hardly noticeable hole using the wallpaper pattern as camouflage. I

tested my modification, and found that I could see clearly all the way from the vanity to the bed and a bit beyond. The hole was in the shadows, sandwiched between two shelves of a large entertainment center that held the bedroom TV and stereo, plus a lot of miscellaneous decorating objects and mementos. Within the closet, I moved things around a bit to make a space big enough to sit comfortably on some of the storage containers. My observation post was ready, so now it was time to

start things into action. 

When Michele came home that night , I announced that I had to go out of town next Wednesday for a short technical seminar. It was for two days, with an overnight stay. She said that the seminar sounded interesting, and hoped that I would have fun. I secretly hoped that she was thinking about her own fun instead.

Sure enough, on their next phone call, Jim (I now knew at least a first name) was told about my upcoming trip, and he jumped at the chance to come over and keep her company in my absence. They began to make their plans. While there were several calls over the next few days, it was a little hard to figure out their plan. I could almost follow the flow of their communication, but it was clear from the large gaps in information over the phone that they saw each other in person every day, most likely at work, where the real details were being worked out. 

He did confirm that he was successful in getting a kitchen pass for next Wednesday night, and that he was excited about coming to her house and spending some extended quality time with her. He asked a couple of times if she was able to find any of the things he wanted, and she told him yes, but it would be a surprise, so she wouldn't disclose any more details. I wondered what that was all about, but I supposed I was going to find out soon enough.

I had placed some small tell-tales on the gym bag and plastic storage keeper, but neither was disturbed. This could only mean that they had not had a chance to get together since the last meeting, so they must

both be anxious, horny and ready for more. I requested the two days off to go to the seminar on my own time, and prepared a small travel bag to take on my "trip". It was now early Wednesday morning, and I headed out for the drive to the seminar, about five hours away. I woke her and gave her a kiss goodbye on the cheek, and told her I would see her Thursday night. She wished me a safe trip and went back to sleep. 

Instead, I found a donut shop, got some coffee and rolls, then found a good safe spot on her way to work to stake out and watch for her passing car. Right on schedule, I saw her drive past, and I felt the plan was now in motion. I called her at work around mid-morning, and let her know that I "arrived" safely and was about to go into the first seminar session. This news should have put her mind at ease, and it did. I then went back to the house, and got set up for what was to come. I knew they had

planned for an afternoon rendezvous, so they could spend more than just the evening with each other. He was to park a few blocks from our home, in a nearby strip mall, and she was to drive by and pick him up. He would duck down below the dashboard so no neighbors would notice a passenger in the car and possibly say something to me later. 

Their plan was to meet at 1 PM. It was now nearly noon. I had also parked my car several blocks away and walked home. I was in some comfortable clothes, and was well-hidden inside the storage closet, which was near the back door, which would allow for my silent escape afterwards. I had a drink of water available in case things went long, and I had just gone to the bathroom. I was ready. 

Chapter Eight – The Preparations for Performance

About 12:10 PM, I heard the garage door open, and her car pull in. She was early for some reason. The car door shut, and I heard the kitchen door open and close. I heard her walk through the living room, on her way to the bedroom. I spotted her at once, and she was carrying a large shopping bag and a dress on a hanger. I put two and two together and assumed that she was going to change out of her boring, shapeless pantsuit and dress up for him again. She went to her closet and came out naked to the shower. I heard the water start, and it ran for a few minutes before it ended. She must have wanted to freshen up for their afternoon. After drying off and drying her hair, she did something I had never seen her do before. She sat down on her vanity chair and applied makeup. Normally, she wore no makeup, not even lipstick, to work or in general. Now, here she was putting on mascara, eye shadow, foundation, blush and lipstick, not for me, but for this "Jim" fellow. I was upset by this, but it helped me to understand where her brain was at. 

Next she walked over to the bed and took some items out of the large bag The first item made my eyes pop out. It was a white, high-waisted, long-leg panty girdle. It had a side zipper and looked like it was pretty heavy duty and firm control. The amazing thing about this was that she had never worn a control foundation before (she said it was old-fashioned and dated), and even expressed her dislike of the sport brief she wore under her volleyball shorts. Clearly this was Jim's idea, his fantasy, and she was going to satisfy it regardless of her preference. She kneeled over and stepped into the girdle, struggling to pull it over her backside and all the way up to her waist. She did up a series of hooks on the side, then grasped the zipper firmly, let out a big breath, and pulled it up. It really fit tightly, and she now had

something of a waist curve where her big-boned body had previously been fairly straight up and down. 

She gave out a "Whew!", and reached into the bag again. She pulled out a stocking package and opened it. She took out a pair of white thigh high stockings, and rolled one onto her foot and pulled it up. She folded the long leg cuff of the panty girdle up and back, and finished pulling the stocking all the way up her thigh. Then she rolled the panty girdle leg back down over the stocking top to hold it in place. She did the same with the other leg, and she was now partly dressed. Next out of the bag

was a lacy, long line strapless bra. She sat down on the bed, leaned forward, placed her breasts into it, then reached around back and started doing up the several hooks in back. It took her a minute or so to

complete this task, and then she lay back on the bed to rest a minute. It was about 12:30 now, as she glanced at the clock on the night stand. 

She lay there for another minute, then cupped her breasts and felt along the smooth, curvy front that the combination of the long line bra and tight girdle had made. Then, her hands wandered down to her crotch. She fiddled there for a few seconds, fingering herself, and I could see (what

a view I had!) that the girdle had a split crotch, with two overlapping flaps that could be opened by hand. I suppose that was to allow a woman to pee without the chore of undressing. Anyway, she kept on fingering herself through the opening, and let out a little moan. Suddenly, she stopped and stood up, then kneeled over her side of the bed and reached underneath. She took out a plastic storage box, opened it, and pushed aside some winter clothes that were on top. She took out a long, medium thickness chrome vibrator and a tube of what looked like K-Y jelly. She put a little lubricant on the vibrator tip, lay back down on the bed, and turned it on. I could hear the gentle humming as she worked it around the outside of her vagina, then slid it in. Clearly, the crotch opening was big enough to allow a vibrator, or a hard cock, to penetrate her. I suppose this was a trial run, a little warm up. She worked it in and out for a few more seconds, then withdrew it and sat up. She was flushed and her breath was a little heavy. Using a tissue from the night stand, she wiped off the vibrator and put it back under the bed. I made a mental note to check out this new stash location later. 




Cheating Wife - Spying Husband



Now, she grabbed the dress bag and took the dress off of the hanger. It was a white coatdress, linen, with red buttons all the way up and down the front, and a wide red belt. She took off the tags, unbuttoned it and slipped it on. She started buttoning it up, leaving quite a few buttons at the top and bottom undone. Then she buckled the belt, and I could see the probable reason for the high waist girdle. The tightened belt gave the dress its curvy shape, and Michele now had the waist curve required

to make it look like it fit properly. She added some white two inch heels that she never wore from the closet, and her outfit was complete. I had to admit that she did look more feminine than I had ever seen her look before. 

Chapter Nine – The Witness to the Deed

She walked out of the room and out the kitchen door. I heard the garage door and the car again, and checked my watch. It was almost 1 PM. I slipped off for another quick bathroom break, just to be sure I could last for a while without getting uncomfortable. Then I settled back into my spot, and waited. The garage door started moving again, and I heard the car again, then silence. The kitchen door opened, and they were inside. There was some small talk about "Nice house" and "Want some wine?" It was pretty quiet, and I guessed they had made it to the couch. I heard some intermittent kissing, then a moan or two from Michele. I heard her say, "It's so big!" I guessed that she was on her knees,

giving him a blow job. In the three years we had been together, she had taken my cock into her mouth only a few times, and then only at my persistent urging. She said that she didn't like the whole idea of

putting anything like that in her mouth, but then again, she also didn't like me to give her oral sex either, so I guess it was a mouth aversion thing for her. Anyway, my suspicion was confirmed when I heard Jim call out, "Oh, baby,! That feels so good, baby! Your tongue is so good to me!" I was

worried that they would never make it to the bedroom, but Jim must have been ready for more. I heard them get up, kiss, then walk across the living room to the bedroom hallway. They came into view, and I saw him with his arms around her waist, then touching her sides and her breasts through the dress fabric. 

He asked, "What's that you have on under there, baby?" She replied, "It's your surprise. Unwrap your present - me!" He started at the bottom, and worked his way up. He saw the stocking tops and the panty girdle bottom, then the high waist of the girdle and then the strapless long line bra. She slipped the unbuttoned dress off, and it fell to the floor. He seemed to be in a trance, feeling her all over, shaping her slimmed waist, and cupping her breasts through the bra. Then he held her close and tight,

crushing her breasts into his chest. They locked in a passionate kiss, their mouths wide open and exchanging tongues. Her hand went down, and felt his hard cock through his pants. "Oh, baby, you're ready for me!" she moaned in a low, gravelly voice. He reciprocated, putting his hand between her legs and parting the split crotch, slipping his fingers into her. She gasped a little, then relaxed. He said softly, "Baby, you're so wet and ready that I need you right now!"

She fell back on the bed, and he was out of his clothes in a few seconds. As he removed his shorts, I could see why she was so taken by him. He was hard, of course, but also he was about three inches longer than me, and about as thick. Now, I'm an average size guy, but I have never had any trouble satisfying a woman before. But he really had what I would call a big woody, and here I was about to watch him put it in her. I was excited and hard myself, but I kept still, to avoid making any noise. 

She was on her back, and she raised up her legs and offered herself to him. He took his cock in his hand, and guided it through the maze of the split crotch of the girdle. Once through, he slowly pushed himself in all the way to the base of his cock, and she cried out, "Oh, God, you're deep in me!" That started him stroking, faster and faster. After only about 60 seconds, she started her little grunt and moan thing, and then cramped up, sitting up to grasp him in an intense orgasm. She stayed cramped for about ten seconds, then fell back to the bed and collapsed. He seemed upset. "I'm nowhere near done yet!" he said in a loud and arrogant voice. "On your hands and knees, bitch, right now!" he yelled

out at her. She looked surprised at his attitude, and she just laid there and looked at him. He took her by the shoulders and rolled her over, then grabbed her waist and pulled her up to a kneeling position. 

She looked back at him over her shoulder, and he was there, grabbing his hard cock and aiming for her cunt. He worked the head through the girdle opening again, then grabbed onto the top of the girdle and pulled her back onto him. She cried out, maybe in pain, and stuck her head down into the bed. He grabbed her by the bottom of the sides of her bra and pounded her for what seemed to be a long time (boy, could this guy last or what?), and she came again, this time screaming out at the top of her lungs, "Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh, God! Oh, God! I'm cumming! I'm rrrrrrrrr aaahhhhhhh!"

She collapsed, stretching out her legs and laying flat on her tummy, panting hard and squirming. He said in a demanding voice, "I'm still not done with you yet, bitch! Roll over!" She just laid there, panting hard and looking back at him. Her eyes looked glazed over. He took her by the thigh and rolled her onto her side. He lifted one leg high in the air, flipped it over his shoulder, and got himself close up behind her. He sat on the other leg, straddling her and holding her wide open. She

protested his action, pleading, "No! No more! I need a break! Stop! Oh, God, I can't take any more! Please, oh please, no!" He was still fully aroused, and was not going to take no for an answer. He guided his cock into her one more time, and, holding her legs spread wide open with one arm, he entered her deeply and started pounding away again. She cried out, "No, no, please, no, please, no, stop, no please stop! Too deep! Too deep! Ow! Ow! You're hurting me! It hurts! It hurts!" 

He just kept slamming her, holding her open for maximum penetration. This went on and on, for several minutes. She eventually stopped crying out for him to stop, and started to get back into it. She

began a low moan, and then came again in a loud, grunting orgasm that sounded almost animal-like. He also grunted a few times, and then stopped moving and held his cock in her, deep, all the way in. I

supposed he was shooting his load deep into her now, since I could see him holding still, but his hips and tummy were twitching in a spasmodic rhythm. With one hand, he reached behind his balls and began to masturbate the spot right behind them, just in front of his asshole. I had heard that this

technique stimulated the prostate, and made a guy just cum and cum and cum. He kept cramping up over and over again, and I could see white cream start to flow down over Michele's exposed crotch. Eventually his spasms stopped.

He pulled out of her, and lay down beside her. After a minute, he reached over and touched her breast and then her face. She reacted, but not like he expected. She yelled, "You bastard! You selfish pig! You hurt me! I told you to stop! I told you that you were hurting me! Get out! Get out of here now! Don't touch me!" He tried to speak, but she wouldn't hear of it. She got up, ran to the bathroom, and slammed and locked the door. He figured things were done, so he put on his clothes. He called out, "I'm going!" with no response from her, and he left. I suppose he walked back to his car. 

She came out of the bathroom in a few minutes. She sat on the bed, undid the bra, rolled the stockings off, unzipped the girdle and tugged at it until it fell away. She curled up in a ball and hugged a pillow, and was asleep in a minute. I watched to make sure she was sound asleep, then quietly slipped out the back door. I then drove to a nearby motel and got a room for the night, since I was supposed to be out of town. 

I called her that evening and asked if everything was OK, and she said yes. She sounded tired, and a little depressed. I wished her a good night and hung up the phone. I fell asleep early that night, since with all of the excitement, I was also worn out.

Chapter Ten - The Morning After

The next morning, I woke up, showered and dressed, then checked out. I grabbed breakfast and headed for her work. It was about nine in the morning, and her car was in its usual spot, which means she was probably safe at work for the day. I left for the house, the scene of the crime. 

I got home, and went to where I had hidden the phone recorder. There was something on the tape, and I rewound it and hit play. He was talking sweet to her, telling her how much he had enjoyed their afternoon. She was harsh in reply, and told him that she didn't enjoy it at all. He argued with

her, reminding her that she had multiple, strong orgasms and seemed very satisfied. She yelled back that he was a selfish bastard, and they she was still hurting and in pain from his attack. "What attack? he replied. "I told you to stop! I told you that you were hurting me! You just kept on hurting me, and that's rape, buster!" He tried to calm her down, but she kept on ranting at him. "I never want to see you again, you pig, you bastard, you rapist!" Then she hung up on him. There were no other

calls. 

I felt a little sorry for her, since I did agree that he did treat her roughly, but she was playing with fire and wound up getting burned. I replaced the recorder, and headed to the bedroom. My first stop was to check out the stash under the bed. I dug underneath, and found the box she had pulled out the day before. Inside, under the winter clothes, were a small, thin white vibrator, a larger soft plastic dildo, and the long silver vibrator I saw her with yesterday. The tube of K-Y was there, about half used, so I figured out that this is what she must have been doing for sex, once she cut me off from herself. I picked up the silver vibe and KY, and thought about what I might have done with her had she chosen to share it. No such luck there, either. I dropped them on the bedspread and moved on.

I went next into the closet, and found that the tell-tale I had placed on the plastic storage box was disturbed. I pulled the box out, and looked inside. There, under the bed sheets, was the white linen dress. I pulled it out and saw the bra, girdle and stockings on the container bottom. I took them out and brought them back to the bed, where the light was better. The foam bra cups and the places under the armpits were still damp from the sweat of her sex. I could smell the perspiration, and knew from an eyewitness perspective that she had gotten a hard workout from this guy, Jim. 

Next, I inspected the girdle. It, too, smelled of perspiration. I turned it partially inside out, and

took a look at the split crotch area. It was plastered with cum! There was more than a tablespoon of it! It was even still sticky! He must have given her a huge load when he stimulated himself as he came. The folds of the split crotch must have held it all inside the girdle when it leaked out of her as she ran to the bathroom. 

I started to feel a little anxious and panicky next. I was breathing heavily, and my cock was stiff with excitement. It was as if I was somehow out of my body, watching myself. The feelings from the other day were coming over me again: a feeling of need, of desire to be something I wished I could be. I was in some sort of trance state, and I saw myself take off my clothes and start to pull on the girdle. I was acting out, repeating her command performance in my mind. I pulled the girdle up over my butt and snugged it up around my thighs. I gave it a final tug, sucked in my tummy, did up the hooks and pulled the zipper up. Boy, was this a tight fit! My cock and balls were trapped, pressed hard against me, and I could feel his wet cum press against my crotch behind my balls. I rolled the stockings on and tucked them under the girdle legs as I saw her do. Then, I placed the bra backwards around me, and did the hooks. Then I spun it around on me, and centered it on my front and tummy. I felt so tightly bound, I could hardly breathe. 

I walked back into the closet and picked up the dress. This was the first time I had ever gone this far in play acting a role like this. I slipped into the arm holes and wrapped the dress around me. I did up the

buttons, buckled the belt, and walked back out to the bedroom. I started feeling myself through the dress, like he did to her. I watched myself in the mirror, and imagined being ravished. My hands felt the stiffness of the bra stays. The curve of my waist was molded by the tight, high waist control top of the girdle. I felt the smoothness of my butt, and the silkiness of my legs in the stockings against the linen dress. I caressed my crotch through the dress, and then pulled up the hem of the dress and touched myself behind my balls, through the split crotch. 

Then I unbuttoned the dress, imagining that it was him doing it. The dress fell away, onto the floor, just like it did yesterday. I fell back on the bed, raised up my knees, and started stroking my cock through the girdle and moving my hips in a rhythm. I was getting really excited, really into the role I was playing. I imagined him in me, deep in me, pounding away at my pussy. Then, I turned over on my

hands and knees and raised my butt up in the air, just like she did. I imagined that I was getting hammered from behind, and I moved back and forth in a rhythm while I pressed and masturbated the prostate "hot spot" just behind my balls. I was approaching a really intense orgasm.

I rolled over onto my side, again like he forced her to do, and I saw the silver vibrator that I had left there on the bed. An incredible idea popped into my brain. I grasped the vibe and the KY, and gave it a quick coating. I the knob on the base to start it up. I raise one leg up in the air, spreading myself wide, ready for the imagined deep penetration. I moved the vibrator to the opening in the girdle bottom. I started to probe the entrance to my asshole, and found that there was so much of Jim's cum still in the girdle that it was making the vibrator tip wet and slippery. I decided it was now or never, so I pushed the vibrator up and in. I felt it penetrate me, and then I knew just how she must have felt with his cock in her.

I could feel an intense fullness in my abdomen, and my breath started to come short and shallow. Then,

I moved the vibrator in and out a little, then more and more until I was stroking it in and out, in and out. I could feel my tummy cramping and my balls contracting. I felt the prickly release of the hormones flow like a river over me. I came hard, pulsing my hips over and over again, just like what Jim did when he was filling her with his cum. I pulled out the vibrator and it rolled away, with it still

humming. I laid there for a few minutes, catching my breath and trying to clear my head. I looked down, and there was a large amount of cum trapped in the girdle. What a mess! I had come back down now, from the high of the orgasm and the excitement of the fantasy, and felt it was time to get back to reality..

I went to the sink and got myself cleaned up, then went back to the bed and removed my costume. I cleaned up the mess I made inside the girdle and all over my tummy. The I carefully placed the lingerie and dress back where I found them, and put the toy box back under the bed. Wow! I was still shaking a bit from all that, but I felt really satisfied. She had cheated on me with him, and so I felt that violating her privacy, wearing her clothes and acting out her sex scene was justified as compensation

for the wrong she had done to me. 

That night, she came home and I was there, waiting. I told her that the last conference session was cancelled, so I came home early. I made us a nice dinner, and she was friendly, but distant. I wanted so much to talk to her about what had happened to her, what had happened with me that morning, and how

I would have never hurt her the way that he did. But, it had to remain my secret, since I knew that if she found out that I had spied on her having sex, worn her clothes, and used her vibrator, that she would order me out of the house and never let me back in again. We got ready for bed, and I offered to give her back rub, but she turned me down, begging off and saying she was just too tired to stay awake much longer. I watched her fall asleep quickly, then I, too, went off to sleep, but I didn't recall

dreaming.

Over the next weeks and months, there was no activity in the closet. I checked from time to time, and everything was still in its place and undisturbed. The toy box under the bed seemed to be getting some use, but that was understandable, considering she dumped her new lover, but still didn't want me, even though I made several attempts at romantic overtures. We were in some sort of sexual limbo, a place where nothing was happening and there was nothing I could do to change that condition. But, I knew that sooner or later there would be some sort of break-out, so I kept a close watch and waited for a change in the weather. Little did I know that she had somehow detected my transgressions, and had a concocted an evil plan to make me pay.

Next story: The Halloween from Hell.



Cheating Wife: The Game



++++++++++++++

This is a stand-alone story. You do not need to read any other 'Cheating Wife' story of mine to understand this one. 

++++++++++++++

I hated that Tom loved this game. Sure, the lovemaking was usually great afterward. That part I liked. And getting dressed up is always fun: I love the attention. It was the deception that I hated. I know what it is like to be led on and I didn't like doing it to others. Still, you do crazy things for love. And so for Tom I played this game.

The game itself is pretty standard. The couple arrives to a bar separately, one partner (usually the woman) flirts with some of the patrons, and then the other partner (usually the husband) comes over and sweeps this 'stranger' off of her feet. Then the husband and wife leave together, both with hugely boosted egos.

Tom and I have played this game often over the last few years. Lately, though, I have been feeling like it is a little unfair to the guys I've flirted with. They don't even know the role they play, or that the outcome is determined for them before the night even starts. I felt it was time to put an end to this.

I devised a plan that would leave no one hurt but would also make Tom a little less excited to play. To make sure no one was hurt, I'd arrive early and confess to a man that my husband liked to play this game, and that I wanted to put an end to it. That way the person would not feel led on. To make Tom less likely to want to play in the future, I'd pick a tall and athletic person to flirt with. Tom has insecurities, and I know his height bothers him. 



Preparing to go out has always been my favorite part of the game. Tom is a visual beast, and thrives on diversity, so I've developed a large wardrobe. Tonight had to be special. 

++++++++++++++

 "What should I wear?" I pondered, as I stood, naked, in front of the mirror. I considered, and dismissed, many outfits prior to deciding on a tight-fitting black jersey fabric dress. The dress hugged my body perfectly, and showed off all 5'6" and 120 pounds of me. The horizontal halter-like strap crisscrossed around my shoulders and accentuated my 36C breasts, and the asymmetrical skirt showed off my long legs. In it, I felt beautiful.

After showering, shaving, and dressing, I applied my make-up. I decided to go with smoky black eye shadow and crimson lipstick. Looking one last time in the mirror, I recognized that my Louboutin pumps matched my dress, the sole matched my lipstick, and the 4" heel matched my mood. Now all I needed was a compassionate stranger to bring my plan to completion. I grabbed my keys, my purse, and left the house.

I arrived at the bar, parked out back, and walked around to the front door. Tom had selected the bar from the yellow pages, and it was pretty unremarkable. As I walked in I noticed a lot of young men, so I guessed there must be a college near by. I missed college, so it was fun to be back in that environment. 

And I loved walking in. I felt that every man's eyes were on me. My scanning was subtle, but still it took me only about a minute to pick out the perfect man. And I mean perfect. After seeing him, Tom would never want to play this game again. My hopeful collaborator must have been 6'4" or 6'5" and about 250 lbs. He looked like a cartoon of what a football player should look like: tall, muscular, and very handsome. More than just that, he was black. I knew that would drive my husband nuts. 

I walked directly up to him and introduced myself. "Hi, I'm Janet."

He smiled back, looked me deep in the eye, and with a stunningly deep voice asked, "What can I do for you, Janet?" 

"You could do me a huge favor, if you're up for it."

"Come on, girl, do I look like a man that would have a hard time getting up for you?" 

I laughed at his statement, placed my hand on his forearm, and explained my situation. He seemed disappointed at first, but agreed to flirt with me for about an hour until my husband arrived. He understood that this was a game, and that I didn't want to lead him on. After a bit, we kind of laughed about it all and started to have a really nice time.

His name was John; he played football, and majored in English. His opening line aside, I found him to be intelligent, polite, and respectful. He was also very graceful on the dance floor, which I was most thankful for! 

While we danced, I thanked him and told him that he'd be a great catch for a single girl. That made him laugh, and in return he thanked me. "Seriously", he said, "having everyone here see me dancing with such a beautiful woman works in my favor." He was a sweet man.

My plan was working perfectly, but Tom didn't arrive on time. When he was about an hour late I went outside and checked my messages. There was one from him - he needed to work late and had swung by the bar but didn't see my car. He apologized and said he'd be home by midnight. It was 10 now so I should have just left. But not to be rude I went in, told John what had happened, thanked him, and told him I was leaving.

Being protective by nature, John walked me out back to my car and gave me a little hug. 

"I'm sorry your plan didn't work, but I liked spending time with you." 

"I liked it too, John. Thanks for being such a good sport." And with that I gave him another little hug. He held on this time, just a bit longer than he should have and I pulled away - but just a little. 



"You know I'm married." I reminded him as I kissed him gently on his cheek. 

I heard him whisper, "I know." But he held my head, moved his closer, and kissed me. I didn't intend to cheat on my husband, but I enjoyed the kiss. As our embrace became more passionate, I felt his huge hand envelope my breast. My nipple, positioned perfectly between his thumb and finger, responded quickly. 

I tried to stop him, but my effort was feeble. I was awash in unplanned excitement, and I simply reacted to his movements. I was pushed against the hood of my car by a passionate monster of a man. 



"Don't leave me like this baby," he whispered in my ear as he positioned my hand on his crotch. With my hand on the front of his pants, I could feel him straining to get out. "Don't leave me like this." This was clearly out of control, and it was wrong, but I pulled him out of his pants.

His penis was so hot in my hand! I stroked his long, fat shaft as he kissed me deeply. I felt incredibly sexy when I heard him moan. I was pretty sure, given his age, that I could make him cum with my hand. I loved doing that in high school, and the thought drove me wild now. 

But this was his game, and he was in charge. He pulled his lips from mine. "I need that mouth, baby." His intent was clear. The passion of the moment was sufficient – I would not turn him down – but he was also demanding something of me that I loved doing. I love the look of a glistening cock, the feel of the head pushing to the back of my throat, and the look of a man as he stares down into my eyes. I needed to make him cum in my mouth.

"Touch yourself, woman, make us cum at the same time." That took no convincing at all. I was so excited I couldn't wait to touch myself. I continued to stroke him as I wiggled out of my panties. Once free I began rubbing myself in unison with my stroking. The moment was impossibly erotic and dangerous, and I loved the feel of his hand on the back of m y head. I loved feeling him thrust in and out of my mouth. That alone may have been enough, but rubbing myself simultaneously was almost too much. 



He read my body perfectly, and just as I was almost there he pulled away. "I want your hand again. I need to kiss you." He moved in quickly, and his mouth tasted perfect. My hand found his shaft, and I began to stroke him as we kissed. 

"Pull it close, girl, use my dick to make yourself cum." We continued kissing while I pulled his shaft along my swollen lips and ran his head around my clit. I was in heaven before my orgasm hit, and when it did I went to a new place – unnamed and uncharted in my previous experience.

While a second orgasm was mounting, he pulled me closer, kissed me deeper, and pushed his body into mine. I was completely under his power, he was much larger than me, and held my mouth quiet with his. He entered me quickly, and thrust in and out of me with shocking confidence. 



Between orgasms, I had a moment of clarity: I was being fucked by a stranger on the hood of my car. A large, passionate black man was fucking me like my husband only thinks he can, and I was doing nothing to stop it. Worse - I was thrusting my hips to meet his - my body was begging him now. 

If I could speak I'd say, "Fuck me, fuck me like you own me."
But 
I couldn't speak. I communicated my desire only with moans and by wrapping my legs tightly around his body. His last thrust almost made me pass out. He held my face close to his, held eye contact, and came deeply into me.



Cheating Wife's Revenge



It was about 4:30 in the afternoon before she could get started. She had planned to get there by 4:00 and surprise him when he got back to the hotel from his day's business appointments. But last minute business calls she had to take had run on and on seriously delaying her timetable. He had told her he'd leave a key for her at the front desk and when he registered had told the front desk that the Mrs. would be arriving late in the afternoon. They had done this before when they had met out of town. She had packed her massage kit and her most risqué teddy, a baby doll number. The store clerk told her it was inspired by the design of a dress worn by Marilyn Monroe in one of her movies. She had bought it but not because it was inspired by a famous person's dress. She bought it because it hid absolutely nothing! Anyway, she didn't understand how it could have been based on any dress design. It revealed too much.

The massage was something she could do to please him; something his wife didn't do, had never done, and undoubtedly, would never do. His wife just wasn't the type. He loved getting a massage from her after a hard days work, before they made love. It had sort of become a ritual when they met out of town for one of these nights together.

Rehashing in her mind the story she had made up in order to get away overnight, about her old college roommate visiting friends in their old college town and wanting her to join them, and not paying much attention to her speed while running late, she was driving much too fast for the speed limit on the expressway when she got pulled over. "Damn, more delay," was her thought as she watched the policeman slowly get out of his car in her rearview mirror! Putting on her most friendly demeanor, she readily admitted in her most apologetic tone to the Officer that, "Yes, she was going too fast. Yes, she knew the speed limit. Yes, she understands how long it takes a car to come to a stop." Yes! Yes! Yes to everything!

"Just, for Christ's sake, either write the ticket, or let me go," she thought to herself! "Either way, get me on my way!"

Lo and behold, he let her go! She had talked her way out of the ticket! It does pay to be nice! This was going to be her day!

"Just a warning this time," the Officer told her. "Now drive safely and have a nice day."

"Yes, Officer! I'll be more careful. And thanks! You have a nice day, too"

On her way again, this time setting the cruise control at about 74, which she knew most State Police would give her. It was four over the limit but she never knew of anyone getting stopped for a measly four over. The 70-mile distance passed slowly. Time dragged. It seemed as if the car was crawling along, even though in reality it took her less than 70 minutes to get to the turnoff. She could see the hotel as she came down the exit ramp. Her pulse quickened as she drove into the parking lot, her excitement increasing. Carrying her overnight bag over her shoulder and her massage kit in her other hand, she rushed through the hotel front door, introduced herself to the clerk as the Mrs., picked up the key that was waiting for her at the desk, and headed up to their room. It was now well after six but he was not there yet.

Turning down the bed she got the bath towels from the bathroom and laid them flat on the bed. This was to avoid getting massage oil on the sheets. She loved to use excessive amounts of oil with his massages. It was more erotic that way. She undressed, got into her teddy, opened her massage kit fumbling through it until she found one of the condoms she had put in it. She removed the condom from its wrapper placing it on the nightstand next to the bed, and found her tube of KY Jelly. Unscrewing the top she placed the opened tube next to the condom. She had started needing some lubrication help fairly early in her life. It had occurred back when she had her partial hysterectomy at age 40, thanks to a benign tumor, and she found that her natural lubrication was no longer reliable. Actually she never really knew what was going to happen each time she got sexually excited. Sometimes her wetness was still there and would literally stream down her inner thighs as it had always done when she was younger. Other times she stayed fairly dry and needed some help for easy, comfortable penetration. Penetration when she was too dry was painful. It ruined the event for her. So she kept her KY close at hand in the top drawer of her nightstand at home, ready for those dryness times. She had been part way out the door when she remembered it, rushing back into the house, retrieving the tube from her bed stand, and dropping it into her massage kit. Now finally completely ready, she surveyed the room once more and satisfied she settled back to wait his arrival.

It wasn't long before she heard his key in the lock. Standing seductively beside the bed, her teddy hiding nothing of her aerobics instructor figure, she waited as he came into the room closing the door behind him and set his briefcase on the floor.

"You look scrumptious!" he said, crossing the room to her. "Very sexy! I love that teddy. It must have been designed just for you."

That was the compliment she wanted. It made the money she spent on the teddy worthwhile. He took her in his arms and kissed her as he ran his hands all over her body through her teddy. Then he moved his hands up under the teddy to feel her naked breasts. Her nipples jumped at his touch and she could instantly feel the wetness between her legs. Probably wasn't going to need that KY tonight! She had felt herself get wet there, on and off, during her drive to meet him whenever she fantasized about what was going to happen this evening. She long ago had realized that the anticipation was more than half of the fun of having an affair. It made her feel like a high school kid again.

It had been a long time since the last time they had gotten together like this. Almost two months had gone by since the last time at his house. It had been a quickie! A very brief, frantic time of sex together that was ruined by both their cramped schedules. It hadn't been all that satisfactory to her and she had reasoned that it probably had not been all that satisfactory to him either. That was when they both had sworn off ever meeting again and had made a valiant effort to stay away from each other. But the excitement and naughtiness of an affair was simply too much for either of them to resist. Neither had any interest in breaking up their marriages! They had long ago agreed to that. Both had good marriages and family responsibilities. They had great marriages in fact! But these clandestine meetings created indescribable and erotic emotions in both of them. They had agreed it was the clandestine element. They were getting away with something naughty. There was something deliciously exciting about being naughty. The sex was more urgent! More animalistic! There was no deep emotional love and emotion involved. Just plain raw, fun, animal sex! The kind that characterizes most couples affairs!

Well, ok, they did have some strong feelings for each other. Something in their hearts for each other! Maybe like ex boyfriend and girlfriend from high school, meeting again many years later? But they both had agreed that they truly loved their spouses and had no intention of ending their marriages. They simply lusted for each other sexually. Pure animal lust! The best kind if you're going to cheat on your spouse! The kind you have got to have if you are going to bring that level of deceit into your marriage.

"Go take a hot shower," she suggested. "Soak at bit. Come down off your work day for a few moments and when you're done I'll do a massage for you. We can order dinner in later tonight if you like?"

It didn't take him long to finish a very hot shower, dry off, and paddle back out to the bed. Lying naked face down on his stomach, she began to expertly work over his muscles, starting with his back, neck, and shoulders. She had always taken a great interest in alternative forms of healing, and had eventually earned her certification as a Massage Therapist due to that interest. For about 10 minutes she worked on his back and shoulders. Finishing his back, she moved down to his feet she massaged upward from his feet to his legs, his calves, his thighs, and finally arriving at his buttocks. Massaging his butt muscles, Gluteus Maximus they are called, working on certain pressure points with the point of her elbow, she relaxed him more and more as she worked on him. Then moving up onto the bed, pushing his legs apart with her knees, she positioned herself between his legs. She now could see his fully exposed testicles. She could just see part of the head of his penis peeking out, the rest remaining hidden under his testicles. She worked on the insides of his thighs allowing her hand to occasionally teasingly lightly brush against his testicles. The sexual tease part of the massage had now started.

After a few such light brushes teasing his testicles she could see his erection starting. Now more of his penis became visible as it lengthened, but most still remained obscured by his testicles. He didn't have a long penis. He didn't have a fat penis. In fact it was really rather short. Maybe four inches in length; perhaps four and a half inches at most. And the shaft was quite thin. He was obviously very self-conscious about its size. From time to time he would apologize to her when they were together for not being larger. He said he had always heard that a large cock pleased a woman better. But the one asset that he did have was an overly large, bulbous head perched atop that short, thin shaft. It definitely was way out of proportion in size for either the length or diameter of its shaft. She used to smile to herself when she thought about it. It was as though God or Mother Nature or whomever you want to credit for these kinds of things had planned to equip him with a large penis, had given him the head first, and then had lost interest. Or maybe had just temporarily got busy elsewhere and had forgotten to come back and finish the job! The head obviously was sized to be perched atop a 8 or 9 inch shaft, not a 4 inch one! Shaped like a mushroom cap, the large, bulbous head perched atop the short thin shaft did give his cock a definite mushroom appearance. She had nicknamed him, "Mushroom Mike" one day as she lay there playing with his erection. It became a name she used often when teasing him over the phone. When they were together and he got off on one of his apology tangents about his size she used to remind him how good mushrooms were and would immediately cover it with her mouth, slurping loudly as she worked on it, making it sound as delicious as she could. His deficiency was soon forgotten.

Applying a large amount of massage oil to her hand, she reached up in the crack of his bottom and applied the oil directly to his anal opening, thoroughly soaking the opening. All the while her other hand continued to massage his butt muscles. He was fairly hairy there and the oil clung to the hairs, preventing most of it from running down the crack of his butt and onto his balls. Reaching over to the nightstand she squeezed a large amount of KY from the tube onto her finger. She applied it also to his anus, on top of the massage oil she had already smeared there. Retrieving the condom from the nightstand she slipped it over her index and middle fingers. She had long nails, professionally manicured, so the condom was necessary primarily to protect him from accidentally getting lanced. Rubbing her condom-covered fingers up and down his crack smeared much of the massage oil and KY all over the latex. Adding more KY directly to the condom she carefully positioned her condom covered fingers against his sphincter muscle and gently pressed against it. Taking the excess massage oil and the gob of KY Jelly with it, her condom covered fingers easily parted his sphincter muscle and slid slightly inside of him. Still massaging his butt muscles with her other hand, she worked her condom-covered fingers slowly and teasingly in and out of his anus, still penetrating only slightly inside him.

Her massage class had not covered sexual massage, as that was not considered professional, and her training had been professional in every respect. So when she had completed her course and earned her certification, she had purchased a book on sexual massage to add an extra element when she massaged her husband, and when he did her in return. Her massage training class had touched upon various Alternative Medicine Theories, getting into Pressure Points, Acupressure, Herbal Remedies, and other similar non-mainstream medical options. In fact class had strongly recommended serious consideration of some of them at a person's time of medical need. Studying the book on Sexual Massage she came upon Taoism. And, as part of Taoism's approach to maintaining good body energy, regular Prostate Massage was recommended. Not only did it feel good to the man receiving it, but Taoism believes that regular Prostate Massage will promote good overall health for the male and will go a long way toward eliminating future Prostate problems; problems traditionally experience by a large portion of the male population as they aged. So she had become an advocate of Prostrate Massage and had added it to her repertoire of sexual things she could do when she massaged her husband. And now she did it for him when they got together.

When she could feel that he was relaxed enough she pushed her fingers more deeply inside of him, eventually penetrating deep enough to locate the hard little walnut shaped organ that was his Prostate. He began to moan softly and his breathing increased as she moved her fingers up and down, massaging it gently at first and then slowly applying more pressure. His cock got harder because of her experienced touch, the head had become a deep red color and was now showing completely beneath his scrotum. He was unable to stifle his moans as she worked his marvelous little organ of immense male pleasure.

In a few moments he said, "You'd better stop or I'm going to shoot my load."

"Okay," she responded, withdrawing her fingers and discarding the condom. "Roll over."

Turning over on his back, his erection now pointed to the ceiling. Squirting oil in the palm of her hand, she rubbed her hands together to spread the oil evenly over them. She waited for his near climax to subside. Then grasping his erection with both of her well-oiled hands, she massaged the head with one hand while very slowly moving the skin up and down on his shaft with the other. Squeezing and teasing the bulbous head with her fingers she alternated by rubbing the tip with her thumb.

There was something extra fascinating about this man's erection. Maybe it was the unusual shape of the oversized head perched on the shorter, slim shaft? She didn't know! Could never figure it out! But anyway there was something about it. From that first time they saw each other nude, when she got her first really good look at him, it had grabbed her attention. No, it would be fairer to say that it grabbed her fascination! Maybe it was just the novelty of her access to her first different cock; a different cock to play with after having played only with the same one for over the past 25 years of her marriage? Whatever! It was certainly fascinating!

She lowered her head allowing her lips to touch his hardness. Then with her tongue she ran the full length of his shaft, bending his cock back slightly to get to the underside. Taking one of his balls into her mouth she sucked gently on it. He had told her he was very sensitive there so she had to be careful. Now, starting down at the base of his shaft, slowly moving up until her tongue reached the head, she licked him like she would a lollypop. She was a child again. Sucking and licking on a lollypop. Only this lollypop was warm. It twitched and throbbed at her mouth's touch. She liked treating his erect member as if it was a candy cane, or a lollypop, or some other sweet treat. She knew it pleased him to no end. It was something he had let slip in a careless moment. It was something he had said that his wife had always refused to do. Oral sex was not in his wife's sexual vocabulary! Sorry! Oh yes, the wife would do a perfunctory suck or two on it from time to time, but nothing like he liked to have done. Moments later her lips encircled the head and sliding her mouth down over it, her mouth stretching slightly to accommodate the head, she now had the complete head in her mouth. Moving down the shaft with her lips she started her rhythmic up and down movement. She had gagged the first few times because he liked to be deep throated and she wanted to accommodate him. But the largeness of the head took getting used to as it went deeper into her mouth and well back into her throat. But she had it now. She had trained herself to relax her throat sufficiently. She could do it for him. And she would get her payback later this evening. She could wait! If anything, he was fair. He received and enjoyed fully, and then he gave and she enjoyed the return favor. She loved the tease of having to wait. She loved the anticipation of what was to come.

Moving up and down she sucked gently on him, now and then allowing the head to slip out of her mouth so she could lick on it. Teasing him further! She could see he was working hard to hold back his climax. Finally, as she moved up and down on him rhythmically again, he gasped, "I'm coming."

Lifting her mouth up off his cock as he sat up somewhat to watch, using her hand she urged on his explosion. She had learned in college, the hard way, what happened when you didn't control a guy's ejaculation. After that mistake, she was always ready. Cupping her other hand she caught his discharges, filling her had to overflowing with his white liquid. Continuing to masturbate him she urged the last drops from his penis. When his pulsing subsided, she took a corner of one of the bath towels she had spread on the bed. Wiping him off, making sure that any last dribble was in the towel she wiped her hand clean.

The first couple of times he had asked her about swallowing, but she didn't swallow. She never could bring herself to do that. Didn't know why! Lots of girls did. She envied them and their ability to do so. Most of them reported how enjoyable it was. But she just couldn't! Maybe it was the appearance of the ejaculate? It seemed thick and somewhat stringy. Maybe it was just the fear of the unknown! Whatever it was, she just couldn't bring herself to do it. So he had agreed to warn her each time and had resigned himself to the fact that it would be her hand, not her mouth, that would finish him off. That was ok. Not as good as if she swallowed! But hell, it was better than he had at home! Beggars can't be choosers, he had decided! Besides, this woman had other assets.

Catching his breath, he lay back down allowing himself to come down from his high. Finally he rose up from the bed on his elbows and asked, "Where'd you like to go for dinner?"

She looked at the clock radio on the nightstand and was surprised at how much time had passed. They had been playing longer than she thought. She was suddenly hungry too.

"There's a Chinese Restaurant just down the road," he went on, "any interest in Chinese?"

"Sure, why not?" was her answer.

In 30 minutes they had showered, gotten dressed, and were on their way for Chinese food.   The Chinese restaurant was about a 3 minute drive from the hotel. Actually, had they looked out, they could've seen it from the window of their room. It was that close! They rode the short distance quietly. Parking the car near the door, it did not appear from the parking lot that the restaurant was going to be crowded. They walked through the entrance into a dimly lit, quiet dining room. A couple of tables near one end were occupied with couples talking to each other. The air had the usual smell of fried food and soy sauce, and the background music playing softly was oriental. The Chinese hostess, probably the daughter of the owner, started leading them toward a table somewhat centrally located in the room. Eying a large circular booth back in the corner, well away from the others in the room and with only a dimly lit swag lamp hanging above it for illumination, he asked, "Can we have that booth back there?" Cheerfully changing her direction, the hostess led them back to the booth.