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Roman Holiday Ch. 01

By: Miguel59



Married five years I believed I was meeting all his needs. Wrong I discovered after stumbling onto his large collection of porn. I thought we communicated. We had what I thought was a good sex life. Intercourse didn't provide me a lot of stimulation, but I enjoyed having him in me and the closeness. A finger, mine or his, on my clit did the trick to get me the big O when we fucked. What I really liked was being eaten. Best feeling in the world, even better because he both loved it and he was good at it.

I had handled a few penises; his was smaller than average, a little over four inches definitely not more than five. I didn't care. I loved him. He loved me. It was I thought all good.

Then I found his porn. He was into sharing, that is sharing his wife, me, sexually. With friends, strangers, and even relatives. The men all had big cocks. He even fantasized about me having sex with black men. He wasn't sharing his fantasies with me, but with other men. They were very graphic as were the magazines I found. I never knew cocks could be so big. I had heard black men were bigger, but the black men fucking the pretty white women in his magazines were huge. Those women looked like they were being skewered. Their mouths were open, obviously breathing hard, but they weren't in pain. He even fantasized about me getting pregnant by one of these men sporting a big black cock. 

He really obsessed about penis size, thought he was cheating me because he was too small, that I didn't orgasm from just intercourse but needed help, thought he came too quick. He shared with some man how aroused he would get over being humiliated by his wife about his shortcomings in bed, how she would deny him intercourse, openly date, brag about her lover's size and stamina, lock his penis up, and make him eat me after my lover had climaxed inside of me. The men he was corresponding with agreed.

My reaction to everything I read was not good. I was as mad as a nest of hornets after being disturbed. It was a good thing he was out of town because I would have physically attacked him. I would have demanded to know why he didn't share this with me and to know if there was anything else he wasn't sharing. I was mad about the way his fantasies objectified me. I was just a receptacle for other men's cocks. I was mad because I thought the reason people married was because they wanted sexual exclusivity.

I wasn't just mad, but hurt by his secretiveness. Who were all these people he was corresponding with? Where did he get these magazines? He traveled a lot. Is this what he did when he was on the road? I also felt inadequate. Wasn't what we had enough? I thought we had a great sex life. He was a very gentle, selfless lover. He always made sure I orgasmed, usually several times.

I did what I shouldn't have done. I had no woman friend I could confide in about my discovery so I got dressed, called a taxi, and had the driver drop me off at a restaurant which had a big bar. Roland and I went there for the food, but I didn't feel like eating so I headed to the bar. 

I didn't intend to get drunk, but I did. I didn't intend to let another man pick me up, but I did. I didn't intend for him to be married, but he was. I even let him drive me home. Against my better judgement I invited him inside. We ended up in Roland's and mine bed.

Mr. Married Man was a smooth talker, very confident, aggressive, handsome, and a good kisser. In no time we were naked and in bed. He didn't possess a monster sized cock, but it was much bigger than Roland's. He also possessed a lot of stamina, something Roland lacked, but which had never been an issue. With his finger petting me Roland lasted long enough for me to have an orgasm before having one of his own.

It was weird having sex in my bed with someone I just met, but it also felt very comforting. I was giving Roland, the little turd, what he wanted. Mr. Married Man fucked me to orgasm several times without needing the assistance of his finger or mine on my clit.

What made the sex so good had less to do with his penis size and stamina and more to do with the conversation. As he fucked me we talked about Roland.

He told me between thrusts he couldn't imagine for even a second letting his wife sleep with another man. He would he vowed, "kill the s.o.b.".

I was breathing fast and shallow by then and pointed out, "But, you're a married man."

"It's different. Men fuck around. I'm just doing what comes naturally. We have higher sex drives. Your husband is sick. Normal men don't want what he wants."

I loved the way he was characterizing my husband, a man he didn't know.

I was getting closer and closer to the big O. He did have a nice cock and lots stamina and I told him so. I should have felt bad for his wife, but didn't as my pity party was all about me.

I gasped, "You're right. He's not normal, but it doesn't seem to bother you to fuck another man's wife."

"Because that's normal. I'm always looking but that doesn't mean I want to leave my wife."

"Oh, I get it," not really understanding his logic. I just accepted it because my husband was the villain, on my shit list. I decided not to pursue the conversation any further because what I really wanted to do was to orgasm.

And what an orgasm it was. We fucked several more times that night. He was like Roland a businessman from out of town. 

The best fuck was in the morning after we had gotten out, peed, and gotten back in bed. He lavished a lot of praise on me which I needed telling me how good looking I was, how much he liked by body, especially my tits and ass. He liked how I didn't lay there but moved my pelvis to meet his thrusts. 

We exchanged a few kisses. He told me he wanted to take me doggy style, something I had never done with Roland because he had never asked. 

He's soon fucking me and it's feeling great but what makes it feel even better is the picture of Roland and I on our nightstand. I'm still furious with him. Mr. Married Man sees the photo and asks if that is my husband.

"Yeah, it is," I answer.

"He's a dweeb. I can't believe he wants to share you."

"Me either," I grunt back.

I laugh out loud. I can't believe I didn't defend my husband when another man called him a dweeb.

He asked what was so funny. I tell him. He starts laughing. I keep laughing. He's pumping in and out of me saying dweeb again and again. I start saying dweeb. We fuck for what seems like another five minutes saying dweeb with each thrust. We have this great rhythm going. My breasts are jiggling like crazy as he's really driving in and out of me. The box springs are squeaking and the headboard is hitting the wall which would normally be a distraction, but isn't. His lower torso makes a slapping sound against my ass with every thrust. He's massaging my shoulders. It's just a great feeling, the best intercourse of my life. I come so hard hating Roland so much. I feel him swell, get harder, and ejaculate.

He's not wearing a condom and I'm not using any protection, but I just don't care.

I hear myself beg him to cum in me.

We cuddle for a few minutes, but he is in town on business, not just to fuck married women. He does let me make him breakfast. While he showers I cook. He comes down looking all fresh. He smells good. He's wearing Roland's cologne. We both have big appetites from all the sex.

He thanks me for the evening, looks at his watch, says he needs to get going. I walk him to the door and with it fully open we embrace one last time and share a very wet kiss. He tells me after his meetings he's headed back home, but that he's in town every few weeks on business.

I tell him, "I'd like to see you again too."

He answers, "You know where to find me."

"I do. Bye. Drive or fly safe," having no idea how gets to my town.

He's gone and I'm left alone. In the kitchen I do the dishes and reflect on the night I'm still mad at Roland, but my anger is waning. I have a smile on my face from all the good sex I had with a man I just met. My body is a bit sore, especially my vagina. Last night's sex was more physically demanding than the lovemaking I receive from Roland. With Roland I just lay there, my legs open wide, as he goes down on me. The intercourse afterwards is always missionary and doesn't last more than two minutes. Afterwards, we get up. He goes to the sink and washes his penis off while I sit on the toilet, urinate and push his sperm out. We get back in bed, cuddle, and go to sleep. 

We've never done it doggy style and never so many times in one night, not even when we dated. Roland is one and done and always has been. He'll get me off several times but after he's climaxed he's done for the night. So different from Mr. Married Man.

I pour myself a cup of coffee and head towards Roland's collection of porn. I'm less angry now, thinking with a clearer head. Yesterday I let my emotions get the best of me. Roland teased me about my temper pointing out I was half Irish, half Mexican. I rarely did get mad, but when I did he avoided me. I was no match for him physically, but I would get in his face and let him have it verbally.

I sat on the couch and went through Roland's collection of porn. Now that I had something to compare him against I still didn't understand it. Mr. Married Man was the type of sex you had if you were cheating. Roland and I didn't have sex, but made love. So why was I smiling so much and feeling so content after sex with Mr. Married Man? I was still too angry to feel the least bit of guilt. What happened was one hundred percent Roland's fault.

I smiled and read, but what I was really drawn to were the magazines. Those cocks were so big and those women looked so happy. Mr. Married Man was big, but the men in those magazines were huge. Would their cocks even fit in me? I found myself squirming admitting aloud to my empty house, "I don't know, but I'd like to find out."

I thought about putting the porn back where I found it and pretending I had never discovered it and last night had never happened. I also knew that wasn't going to happen. I wasn't one to shy away from conflict. I didn't know when I would deal with it, but I knew I would. Besides, it wasn't healthy for our marriage for him to keep secrets away from me. He should be confiding in, not heading from, me.

I went into the kitchen and found one of the giant cucumbers I liked to make salad with. I took it and the magazine upstairs. I got in bed and began to experiment with the cucumber, placing it just between my labia, running it up and down my slit, pressing it against my clitoris. It was so hard. The pictures were making me wetter. I used my juices to lubricate the tip of my fresh from the grocer dildo and pushed it in just a bit, then back out, then back in. I slowly worked more of it into me. I liked the fullness, but wished it was more like a cock and not so firm and unyielding. I felt really stretched and open. I even took a mirror and examined my vagina. It looked like an open mouth. I went back to fucking myself while looking at the magazines.

It was feeling better, but still too hard. The squishing noise it made and the air escaping from my vagina, sounding very much like a series of farts, were definitely turning me on. I hadn't worked much of it into me as it was so wide and hard but I was definitely thinking bigger might be better, depending on the man. If he wasn't patient it would feel really bad.

I had all the time in the world as I didn't have anything to do that day.

I just kept at it, letting my mind wander, imagining what it would feel like to have a cock the size of this cucumber in me. I wished I didn't have to do all the work as it was distracting, but I really didn't have a choice. Like Mr. Married Man's cock the each movement of the cucumber stimulated my clitoris. I just wished it was less firm. Believing in the philosophy of no pain no gain I ignored the discomfort and focused on the pleasure. I got most of it in me. I wasn't going fast but slow as I was afraid of hurting myself. I was concentrating more on the activity and less on the sensation when I detected the signs of an orgasm approaching. I was quiet except for the occasional groan that just popped out of nowhere. 

I picked up the speed of my thrusts just a notch and I went from very quiet to talkative.

"That's it Mr. Cucumber, fuck me. I'm almost there. Just a little while longer. Oh yeah, that feels so good. Don't stop. Huh huh huh huh, that's the way I like it. I'm coming!"

My body went completely rigid. It was too hard to keep fucking myself through my orgasm. I just lay there with three fourths of the cucumber shoved up my vagina, my eyes closed, and reflected on how good my orgasm had been. Not as good as Mr. Married Man's cock or Roland's tongue but damn good for a solo experience.

I rarely masturbated and until that day had never used a dildo. I didn't need to masturbate as Roland's tongue was always willing. Then again I had never cheated on my husband until that day. Two firsts I thought in less than 24 hours.

I was liking the illicitness of it all, how raunchy and physical the sex had been. This was what sex was supposed to feel like, nasty, uninhibited. Roland made love to me whereas Mr. Married Man and Mr. Cucumber fucked me.

My post orgasmic glow was short lived replaced by a funk. I had no idea how to proceed with Roland but I was determined to face the issue head on.

Roman Holiday Ch. 02



Going back through his papers I wondered who these men were he was corresponding with. They all seemed like minded sharing some version of the same fantasy. There were even a couple of swinger magazines. I looked through the pictures. There were lots of couples I discovered who were looking for a single man to satisfy the wife. I was relieved to see there was no picture of Roland and I. I would have been furious if there had been because it would have been one more thing he was keeping from me.

He didn't call every day he was gone but he did call several times a week. We had never had phone sex, but we had sexual conversations about what he was going to do to me when he got home. Mainly we talked about our days, our jobs, the weather, t.v. shows, sports, family, sometimes politics and religion.

He called that night. I was in bed watching a crime documentary about a man who led a secret life. He was a loving husband and a serial killer. I didn't think Roland was a serial killer, but I did wonder if he was living a secret life. What else was he keeping from me? Had he explored his fantasies with other couples? Had he cheated on me? 

He sounded the same as always. It didn't take him long to sense I was a bit distant. He asked if he should call back. I told him no, that I was glad he called. I then told him about the show I was watching. He had seen it before months earlier with me. He didn't really like real life crime dramas. He said they depressed him, but I found them exciting. People amazed me, especially their duplicity.

We chatted. He sounded relaxed. I sounded like my old self. I had thought about waiting until after his trip, but he was going to be gone another week, maybe two.

"Roland, I found your collection."

Dead silence followed by an oh and an apology.

"Jeanette, I'm so sorry."

I cut him off, "You can make it up to me later. I just want to know why. I thought I was your best friend, that we shared things, that we communicated. Now I discover you don't share a lot. How long have you had these fantasies? Who are these people you correspond with? Where did you get those magazines? Are you unhappy with me?" 

I probably asked him fifty questions, my voice getting higher and louder. I had told myself I wouldn't cry, but I did. He had hurt my feelings which was the worst feeling in the world. He hadn't trusted me enough to share. I had shared my fantasies with him. They were I know tame compared to his, but they were fantasies. He knew I liked romance novels, especially where the beautiful maiden gets swept off her feet by a man everyone thinks is bad, but who is really good, the strong, silent type, a man of action, who can be a savage one minute killing people left and right and the next be a gentleman seducing the woman with his control.

He thankfully let me finish. Roland had his flaws, but being a poor listener wasn't one of them. 

He said, "I can explain."

I sniffled, put the phone down, blew my nose several times, before picking it back up.

"I really am sorry I kept my fantasies from you. I didn't want you to think less of me. I would never ask you to do the things I fantasize about. I love you too much. I've had these fantasies a long time, even when we were dating. I just feel so inadequate thinking you deserve someone better. I feel blessed to have you. You are clearly out of my league. I wondered what you saw in me. I feel like I disappoint you. I bought those magazines at an adult bookstore on one of my trips. The letters are from men I met who have the same fantasies. The men I met at the bookstore. I rented a post office box so we can send each other letters."

He continued talking, but he was starting to irritate me with his apologies and how they were just fantasies that he would never ask me to do what he fantasized about. He was sorry, sorry he had been busted.

"Roland, quit telling me you're sorry! I get it. You have fantasies. I'm just pissed you didn't share. How do you know I wouldn't have done them. You never even asked me," I spat back.

Silence on his end. 

"Jeanette, how could I ask you knowing what I wanted might really freak you out.?"

"You should have at least tried. We could have at least role played. I did drama in high school. I know how to give a convincing performance. Roland, I love you. Are you happy with me?"

"I am."

"You may be happy, but you're not satisfied. Something's missing. I thought we had a great sex life, but evidently we don't. I don't know if I can do the things you want, but I can try. Why don't we start by role playing?"

He sounded relieved and excited, "You would do this for me?"

"For us. I like being your wife. I want you to be happy. I can't make you happy if you keep things from me. You need to start telling me everything. No more secrets."

He quickly answered, "You're right. No more secrets."

"No more trips to adult bookstores unless I'm with you. You must think about sex a lot because you have done a lot of writing. You should be using all that energy and creative juices on me."

"You'd go to an adult bookstore?"

"Of course, but with you. I don't know where any are, but we live in a big city. I'm sure we can find one."

I didn't think Roland was gay, but I wondered if he was bisexual. Hanging out in adult bookstores with other men didn't strike me as something heterosexual men would do. 

I had to ask. Fantasies are one thing, he having sex with other men another.

"Roland, what do you do in those bookstores? I can't believe you just look at magazines and suddenly you're corresponding with other men having the same fantasies as you. Are you having sex with them?"

"Oh God no. I promise I'm not. I'm not gay Jeanette or even bisexual."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"I'm not so sure. It sounds gay what you're doing."

"Jeanette, it's not like that at all. We're all married. We don't touch each other."

"So what do you do?"

"We watch,".

"Watch what? I thought it was a bookstore."

"It is, but this bookstore has theaters."

"So they show movies. And you watch the movies with other men. Then you talk about what you've seen?"

"We don't watch the movies. We watch couples who are in the theater."

"Are the couples having sex in front of everyone?"

"Yes."

I noticed Roland's breathing was a little faster.

"Roland, are you excited telling me this?" 

"Yes," he sounded somewhat embarrassed.

"That's okay. Are you playing with yourself?" What he was doing sounded so juvenile I decided to treat him like a little boy.

"I am."

I used a gentle, but firm tone to tell him, "I want you to stop. Not unless you're with me. I get to tell you when you can cum."

"Okay," he reluctantly agreed.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Good. Now go on. These couples have sex in front of everyone and you watch, but you don't participate?"

"I swear we don't participate. We just watch and we, uhm, masturbate."

I couldn't help but laugh. I didn't mean to. I just couldn't help it. I just pictured all these men standing around in a movie theater jacking off while watching complete strangers fuck.

It sounded so ludicrous and juvenile.

"I'm sorry for laughing. I just had this mental image of a bunch of men with small penises masturbating as they watched a man with a big cock fuck his wife in front of them."

"Jeanette, now you know why I never told you. You don't find this at all arousing. It disgusts you."

"Roland, I didn't say that. These men who are masturbating. Do they all have small penises or just you?"

"Small," but what he said next sounded boastful, "But, I'm bigger than most."

I felt bad for him feeling so inadequate but he fantasized about being humiliated, "So, you're the king of the midgets?" 

Silence on the other end, Speared him right through his secret keeping heart.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I don't guess so. I know so. Go on. You're watching this couple fuck. Is his dick big?"

"Huge."

"That sounds exciting. Is his wife pretty?"

"It's not his wife, but yes they've all been pretty."

"Whose wife is she?"

"She's married to one of the men watching."

"He's jacking off instead of fucking his own wife. Now, that's crazy."

"I know it sounds crazy, Jeanette, but it's hot."

"How so?"

"Because she is having the best orgasms of her life. She's got her wedding ring on. Sometimes they stare at their husbands or their husbands hold their hand while she's having sex."

"That sounds very kinky. What happens afterwards?"

"That's the best part," he sounded so excited, "The man fucking her finishes and the husband goes down on her."

I felt cheated, "Another man fucks her in front of strangers. Does he use a condom? You never eat me after we've made love. I wouldn't mind you eating me after you cum."

"Really? It wouldn't gross you out?"

"I'm not tasting your cum, you are. You know how I don't like the taste. Sucking you is one thing, but swallowing, yuck. Anyway, then what happens after he eats her."

"We masturbate some more. She tells him to clean her out, to get all of her lover's sperm out. Sometimes she makes him clean her lover's cock with his mouth after he eats her, to get him hard, so he can fuck her."

"Two climaxes in one night? That never happens when you're with me. You're usually snoring within a few minutes."

"I know. It's just different. I don't relax after I've cum watching them." 

His next statement sounded a bit boastful, "Sometimes I've cum five times while watching."

"Five?" I asked in disbelief. "Your little penis must be raw."

"It can be pretty sore, but it's worth it."

"After everyone is finished you talk about it."

"Yeah. There's usually time to kill before the next couple comes in."

"Where did you tell me you were going?"

"Rome, New York."

"I thought it was a small town. Surely, there can't be that many kinky people there." I almost said perverts, but that would have been judgemental. I wanted to keep the lines of communication between Roland and I open, not shut him down.

"It is, but the bookstore is popular. People come from all over."

"The women have unprotected sex? Don't they worry about getting pregnant or getting an STD?"

"The men are tested. They show their paperwork to the couple to prove they are clean."

"They may be clean, but how do they prevent pregnancy?"

He sounded excited again, "They don't. They want the man to get her pregnant."

I should have been dry, but I was just the opposite, soaking wet. It was very kinky. I just didn't know if I could do it in a roomful of strangers all masturbating while I got fucked. I thought about last night. I had taken a complete stranger home, had unprotected sex three or was it four times, I was pretty tipsy, in my marital bed, with Roland's photo displayed, made him breakfast. He even showered in our bathroom, used Roland's cologne. I wonder if he brushed his teeth with Roland's toothbrush. Later in the day I had used a cucumber to masturbate with as I looked at some of Roland's magazines.

His excitement was contagious. It was good to hear him happy. My anger with him was getting smaller, but I wasn't completely over all the deception.

"Okay. You go to bookstores, masturbate while people have sex, have a secret post office box. Is there anything else you're keeping from me?"

"I don't think so. Wait, I just thought of something. Under the bed on my side."

We had a platform bed with drawers underneath it. I got off the bed and went to his side of the bed and opened the drawers.

"Which one?" I asked.

"The one underneath the nightstand."

"All I see are your t-shirts."

"Underneath the t-shirts."

I pulled them out. Buried underneath was a dildo. A very big dildo. It even had a set of balls. It was black, very detailed to the veins running along the shaft. Next to it was what I thought was a watch case. I opened it.

"What was in the case?"

He sounded evasive, "A piece of jewelry."

Now I'm thinking he has been cheating because he hasn't given me any jewelry in a couple of years. It was a pearl necklace with matching pearl earrings. I remember how much I liked them and how much he liked them. He used to ask me to wear the necklace when we made love, said he liked the contrast with my skin.

"What kind of jewelry? It must be big." I was holding the dildo by the balls and smacking it against my hand. I was thinking how much I'd like to be hitting Roland with that dildo. I just knew he was going to tell me had a girlfriend.

"It's a cage."

"A what?" I asked not knowing what the hell he was talking about.

"A chastity cage. I take it when I travel. I don't wear it all the time. I like the way it makes me feel. It stops me from getting an erection."

"You wear it on your penis? How does it make you feel?"

"Yes. There's a tube that my penis goes in. Submissive."

"Won't it fall off?"

"No, the tube is connected to a ring that goes around my scrotum. It can't come off. Once it's on my penis is very secure."

"Do you like feeling submissive?"

"I do."

"Submissive to me or anyone?"

"To you. Jeanette I only fantasize about this with you. No one else."

I had a wickedly devilish idea. Where's the cage now?"

"In my suitcase."

"Go get it. I want you to put it on."

"I'm hard. It won't go on." 

Sounded to me like he was attempting to negotiate a climax before wearing it. Wasn't going to happen.

"Make it soft. Take a cold shower. Whatever you need to do without masturbating. I have an idea. Take your ice bucket. Pour the ice in a towel. Apply it to your erection. You'll get soft and small."

He did sounding very eager to comply.

"It's small," he assured me.

"Good, now put it on. What's to keep you from taking it off?"

"There's a lock with a key."

"Roland, I want you to lock it and to mail me the key."

"I've never worn it more than a few hours."

"So. Now you get to wear it until you get home."

He assured me it was locked and he would put it in the next day's mail.

What I did next really surprised, aroused, and tortured him.

"Now I'm going to try out this toy you've been hiding from me. When did you buy it? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Two years ago. I was afraid to. I thought it might upset you."

"Because it's black or because it's big. Why would a bigger cock upset me? You're the one who should be upset."



Roman Holiday Ch. 03



I rubbed the dildo against my lips using the head to separate them, to get at my wetness. It was bigger than the cucumber, but not as rigid. 

"Why black?" I gasped as I tried to insert the head, "You've only had one black friend in your life and he's dead. We don't even associate with any blacks socially."

"I know, but we used to, when we were dating."

"Are you thinking of Jan?" Jan was Roland's friend from college. They were very close. Jan's name was spelled like a girl but pronounced like a boy, John. He was quite a bit older than Roland. He was a Vietnam vet who went back to school after getting out of the Army. He had done three tours in Vietnam. Like he said, he had done and seen some fucked up shit.

He had swagger. He wore sweats, the kind you see athletes wearing, the top zipped up like a jacket. He wore it always three fourths zipped. He always had on a gold necklace. He said it brought him good luck. He drank a lot and he smoke a lot, both tobacco and weed. He was very smart, but you wouldn't think it based on the way he dressed, the big Afro he wore, or the way he talked. He had grown up on some very mean streets then gone over there to an even crueler place, not just once but three times.

Roland asked him why. He said it was for his friends, but we both thought it was because over there he never felt so alive. He was a soldier, not a black man. He loved and loathed the Army. He wasn't a bad influence on Roland, but he did bring out Roland's wild side.

He wasn't handsome. He looked rough. He had at least half a dozen half to one inch scars all over his face. He never did say how he got them, just that he got them before 'Nam. He didn't work out but was muscular and lean. He was 6 foot, maybe a little taller. He was a good dancer.

Jan's death from cancer hit us both hard, but Roland hardest. They were buddies. I remember seeing Jan without a shirt on. He had acne all over his back and chest. He saw me noticing and said, "Chloracne. From that Agent Orange shit." He didn't have it all the time, but he had flare ups. The sun he said helped. On his left shoulder blade he had a small circular scar from a gunshot wound. Like he said, "happened before Nam. Some motherfucker drove by and shot me as I was taking the trash out." He didn't seem too bitter about it, more incensed at how it happened, "taking out the motherfucking trash for my mama." Not during a fight, but taking the trash out.

Agent Orange, Kools, Jack Daniels, or the stress of three combat tours, gave him cancer. He was young so the doctors weren't looking for it and didn't see it until it was too late. Jan's dad was never in the picture and he wasn't particularly close to his mom. She had him when she was young, married later to a man she had two boys with. He kind of fell through the cracks.

We had just moved back home when we heard the news. By then Jan only had a few months to live. Doctors had given up and sent him home to die. He had just turned 30. His stepbrothers were busy. One was in the Army, the other on the road in a band. His mom and stepdad weren't overly interested. Roland would go over after work and take care of Jan, seven days a week. I supported him doing it and tagged along because he was my husband's friend.

"Yes,".

"So your fantasies do go way back. Did you used to fantasize about Jan fucking me?"

"Yes. You're not mad are you?"

"Shhh. No, I'm not mad. I'm not judging you, just trying to get in your head. It's just so damn big. I want it in me, but it's not cooperating."

I know I sounded frustrated.

"Maybe you're not wet enough."

"Roland, trust me. I'm very wet."

"I know you're wet, but maybe you need to be really, really wet. There's some lubricant in the drawer."

I was going to tell him I didn't need any lubricant, but figured what the hell.

I put the phone down, found the bottle, opened it and before I poured it on decided I had better get a towel as it could be messy.

I spread a towel underneath me folded i half and drizzled lubricant the length of the dildo. I then smeared it all over. I had no idea what was in the lubricant but it sure made that dildo super slick. The shaft was hard to hold onto so I grabbed it by the balls.

I picked up the phone and told him, "I'm back. Let's pick up where we left off. i remember. I was about to fuck myself with this huge dildo you bought."

The lubricant certainly made inserting it easier, but it didn't make that dildo smaller.

It was like I was having a baby, only the baby wasn't being delivered, but going back inside.

"He's big. What should we name him?

"It's a dildo. I hadn't thought about naming it."

"It's my lover and he needs a name. How about Jan?'

"Okay. Let's call him Jan."

"Jan is huge." I worked more of him into me going very, very slow. I was so stretched I thought I might tear. Pushed in a quarter inch, then pulled out, pushed in a half inch, then pulled out. It took a lot of pushing before Jan was all the way in me. I was concentrating so hard I couldn't talk so Roland talked for me encouraging me, tellling me how sexy he imagined I looked.

"I am so full," I told him. 

"Does it hurt?"

"No. It feels really really good." I didn't get ten strokes in before orgasming. No scream, just a long, long groan and a lot of fuck, fuck, fuck. My skin and hair were damp with sweat.

Jan had given me one hell of an orgasm, the kind where your eyes roll itno the back of your head.

Roland commented, "That sounded intense."

"It was. I need to go. I'm too tired to talk. Now all I want to do is go to sleep."

"Good night. Thanks. I love you."

"I love you too. You're welcome."

I lay there with that big cock in me thinking a little about Jan, but more about his brother, Ricky, who was in the Army. I fucked myself to two more orgasms before calling it a night. 

I hadn't seen him since the funeral. He was built like Jan, but much more handsome. 

Roland wasn't the only with secrets. I had two of my own and after Mr. Married Man three. Mr. Married Man was the first man besides my husband who fucked me. My other two secrets occurred after marriage. One was very special while the other made me feel so guilty.

Roland thought the world of Jan, but my relationship with Jan was more complicated.

Jan was Roland's friend, not mine. When they were together they got wasted. Jan would say some pretty outrageous things to me. What he considered flirting I thought was crude. I knew it was the booze and the weed because when he was sober he was very respectful and he kept his distance.

I would show up at the bar where they hung out after classes ended. Fridays there was a band. I would dance with a lot of people, my friends and Roland's. We hadn't been dating long but everyone knew we were dating. Jan asked me to dance. It was a fast song, soul, not rock. I had been drinking, but not like Jan. We were both good dancers. I was riding up and down his thigh and then we were bumping and grinding crotches. It was erotic and scary. I wasn't attracted to him at all, but I was dancing like I was. I could tell he was hard.

The song ended. I went back to the table and told Roland it was time to go. He asked if I was upset and if Jan had done or said something. I lied and told him no. He told me, "Jan thinks you are a fox. I think he has a crush on you."

It wasn't what I wanted to hear, but the next words were. Roland kissed me and said, "But I have a bigger crush." I kissed him back. In the back seat of my car that night he petted me to orgasm and I jacked him off, rubbing him to climax through his pants.

We started doing things less as a group and more as a couple after that night. I still associated with Jan and Roland still did plenty of drinking with him, but it wasn't the same. Jan had wanted to get in my pants that night and I had certainly encouraged him. I had danced like a whore with him, grinding my pelvis against his, my crotch riding up and down his thigh.

After he was sick I went over to bring him food. He was skinny. I told him we needed to fatten him up. He had an oxygen bottle to help him breathe. He lay there in his recliner. The t.v. was on, but we weren't watching it. I sat by him and fed him his meal. 

He told me, "Jeanette, I'm so tired."

"You should be Jan. It's okay. Now eat."

He watched me as I fed him. I noticed he alternated between looking at my face and my boobs.

"Jeanette, you're so kind. Thank you. And pretty too. Roland's so lucky."

"I'm lucky to have Roland."

"He's my best friend, Jeanette. I wish I had what the two of you have. You're in love. I've never been in love. Never had much luck with the women. I think I scare them."

I lied telling him he wasn't scary at all once you got to know him. You've just seen and done so much. My friends and I were just out of high school. You had been to war."

"You know Jeanette. I did three tours there, killed a lot of them, but the only time I was shot was here by some punk motherfucker when I was taking out the trash."

He sounded agitated. I wondered if he needed medicine, something for the pain.

He finished everything I fed him and thanked me. I asked him if he was hurting because he kept talking about the motherfucker who shot him. 

He said, "Yeah, but I don't want it."

I insisted, "But, you need it."

I gave him a few pills. He took them for me.

It took them a few minutes to work. He calmed down. He was getting groggy but he needed to pee. He asked me to help him to the bathroom. I got him to the door. He left it open. I stayed worried he might fall. He fished out of his boxers the biggest penis I had ever seen. I don't know if he knew I was watching or he was too damn tired to care about being modest.

He finished and we walked back to the recliner. He sat down. I asked him if he needed anything. He said, "A blanket. I'm cold." I covered him up.

"Anything else," I asked.

"My feet hurt. Would you rub them?"

I had never rubbed Roland's feet, but there I was a minute later massaging Jan's. They were so dry and looked so big because he was so skinny. I got some lotion and massaged them. I was looking at his feet focused on the massage. We chatted about life. Nothing heavy, just the good times.

He fell asleep. I put some socks on his feet and as I got up noticed the blanket had tented. It took me a second before I realized what it was. It was Jan's penis, big when it was soft, super big when it was hard.

I left.

Roland was the one who took care of him day in and day out, but when he couldn't I did. The routine never changed. He liked my foot massages and I enjoyed giving them to him. I thought it was the least I could do for my husband's friend. A few days before he died he asked for a huge favor.

"Jeanette, I know I'm not much to look at, but would you do something for me."

I wondered what he wanted and knew my answer was going to be yes.

"Sure," I said.

"Would you make me feel good? One last time before I die."

There was no missing the tent pole under his blanket. I took the blanket off, Sticking out through the fly of his boxers was his cock. He was so skinny and it was so huge. I grabbed the bottle of lotion and coated the length of his cock. I then used both hands and gave him what I hoped was the best handjob he had ever had.

I wondered if he could climax or was he too sick. The cancer was everywhere, but it hadn't affected his prostate or testicles. It didn't take long before he groaned and his cock jerked a half dozen times. In quick succession he came. I went into the bathroom, put warm water on a washcloth and cleaned his abdomen of the cum and his cock of the lotion. I grabbed another towel and dried him off, then tucked his cock back inside his boxers.

He told me, "Jeanette, thanks. You're the best."

"You're welcome. I'm glad I could do that for you."

He fell asleep. I kissed his forehead. I got in the car and cried not because I was ashamed of what I had done because I wasn't. I cried because it was terribly sad to see Jan, my husband's friend, dying.

He went peacefully, Roland by his side, three days later.

Very few people showed up for Jan's funeral. Ricky explained to me, "Jan was a bad ass. All his friends from the 'hood are dead or in jail. He's the only one who got away and look what killed him, Agent Orange."

After the funeral we headed to the cemetery than back to Jan's grandmother's house. We were the only whites in attendance. Grandmother was a big woman and an excellent cook. She lived in a tiny house, no air, just a fan. The house was in bad need of repairs. Its foundation was cinder blocks. The smell of fried chicken, gumbo, black eyed peas flavored with big chunks of pork fat and ham, turnip greens, and collards was heavenly. We tried it all.

While we ate she regaled us with stories of Jan. She had pretty much raised him. He was a very considerate kid, mild mannered, soft. As she put it, "The streets took my baby. The Army saved him and then it killed him. We should have never been over there."

Roland went outside with the men while I helped grandma clean up. They passed around a bottle, then a couple of joints, then a few 32 ounce malt liquors. Roland was very broken up about Jan's passing and getting very fucked up was how he was dealing with it.

Ricky is back in the house, not really helping, but watching his grandma and I work. I can feel his eyes looking me up and down. He's a very good looking man. We have this instant connection that both worries and excites me. He's obviously attracted to me and I feel very drawn to him. We make a lot of eye talk while I'm helping his grandma. 

After we're done, I go to the bathroom and when I open the door who is there but Ricky.

He blocks me from leaving. "Hey pretty lady. Why don't you lay some sugar on me? I've got something sweet for you. I know you like chocolate."

I look him in the eye and say, "Have you no shame? Your brother hasn't been in the ground six hours and you're hitting on his best friend's wife."

He corrected me, "Stepbrother. Jan and I were never that close. He did tell me about you how and how fine you were. He said he used to dream about tapping that ass of yours."

My face felt flush, "He did?"

"Swear to God. I only thought in his memory I should try to get what he failed to."

He was the best looking man who had ever hit on me. Roland was nice looking, but Ricky was an eleven. Very dark complected, but with no flaws. Fine features. His lips were full. Killer smile. The whitest, straightest teeth I had ever seen. Short hair. He obviously worked out as he was in the Army. 

"Not a chance," I told him, then kicked myself in the ass for adding, "At least not here."

I meant to say and certainly not here in your grandmother's house, but I guess my clitoris and my heart weren't in sync.

He said, "Then give me your number. I'm only in town a few more days but I want to hook up with you."

I gave him my number.

He helped me get Roland into the car. He then followed me around to the driver's side. I felt like the whole neighborhood was watching.

Roland is passed out and Ricky has me pressed against the door.

"Come on fine mama. Give me one kiss."

"No," I answered.

He insisted, "I'm not letting you get in your car until you do."

I gave up pursing my lips for a quick kiss.

It was anything but quick. He pressed his to mine, cupped my chin with one hand, and I opened my mouth. Five or maybe even ten minutes later we came up for air. I was so turned on I was literally gasping from that kiss.

True to his word he let me get in the car. He wasn't smiling as much as he was smirking. It was as though he was telling me he owned me.

I rolled down the window. He bent down. I gave him another kiss, started the car and drove off.

I got home, put Roland to bed, after helping him in the bathroom when he got sick. I changed into my nightgown, got in bed, and while my husband snored, masturbated thinking about Ricky and that kiss.

In the morning I felt guilty for even contemplating cheating on my husband, but I waited for that phone to ring. 

It did. He said he wanted to meet me. He would get us a room. He said Roland would never know. It would be just for a few hours. He never called my by name, just sugar or fine mama. Instead of turning him down I said yes.

Fate intervened that day as my normally dependable car wouldn't start. I had a neighbor look at it. He commented on how dressed up I was. I told him I was going shopping. He said it wasn't the battery, but a starter.

He told me, "You'll need more than a jump."

Ricky called. I explained to him about the car. He said he would come get me. I told him it was too risky. I worried about Roland getting home before me or the neighbors seeing me get into a strange man's car, even more memorable because a black man was driving it and we had no blacks in our neighborhood. I refused to give him my address, telling him it had to be a sign.

He answered, "Sugar, there ain't no such thing as signs.Your starter is out. God didn't do it. I can have you back before your husband gets home."

My resolve was melting when Roland walked into the house.

He saw me on the phone. I mouthed that I was talking to a salesman. He mouthed back to hand him the phone. I answered I can handle it.

"Sir, I'm sure the product you have is nice, but we don't need it. I already own a vacuum cleaner. It's a Kenmore and a lot cheaper than the one you're selling."

It took Ricky a minute to catch on. I was certain my husband could hear him because he was so loud. Roland spoke up asking for the phone. Ricky must have heard him because he hung up.

I hadn't been tempted since. I figured it had to do with being vulnerable about Jan's death. Ricky saw me as an easy target and I was. I still remembered that first kiss and how we made out in front of the whole neighborhood while my husband was passed out in the car.



Roman Holiday Ch. 04



The next morning I woke up and immediately thought about Ricky. I wondered what he was up to and what would have happened if I had gone to his hotel. I knew all he wanted was sex. He wasn't looking for anything long term or to break up my marriage. 

He wanted the same thing I had given Mr. Married Man the night before last. Raw, no strings attached sex. My marriage was intact. I still loved my husband. 

Now that I knew about Roland's fantasies I felt foolish for feeling guilty all those years about Ricky. I told myself, "He would have loved to see Ricky fuck me. We could have given him one hell of a show."

I felt somewhat foolish for being so upset with Roland. I hadn't told Roland about giving Jan a bit of pleasure or about how I came so close to having sex with Ricky. I rationalized my anger because those were both one time events, just like with Mr. Married Man. Roland's secret fantasy life had gone on for years. I wondered how many women he had watched get fucked. It angered me that he had all this libido when he was on the road, but when he was at home with his wife I rarely got more than one climax out of him. Was he not attracted to me? Mr. Married Man certainly had no trouble getting it up and giving it to me so why couldn't Roland who admitted to jacking off five times, rubbing his penis raw, while playing voyeur with the other cuckolds?

I wondered if that cage he was now wearing would channel his sexual energies my way. I crossed my fingers hoping it would. I wondered if Mr. Married Man displayed the same level of enthusiasm with his wife that he did with me or were all men alike saving their best for the other woman? I felt sorry for her. I should have gone home with a single man. Only problem is no single man hit on me in the charming way Mr. Married Man had.

Thinking about Mr. Married Man and the sex we had made me horny. I hoped Roland would call. It was our first time as a couple to have telephone sex. I laughed, almost snorting through my nose the coffee in my mouth, remembering only one of us had telephone sex. All he could do was listen as his penis was locked up.

I showered, dressed and headed to work. I was looking forward to being busy as I had way too many crazy thoughts running around in my head. 

Work was busy. I forced myself to go to the gym. By the time I got home I was sweaty, tired, and hungry. I took a shower, put on my nightgown, and made myself dinner. After cleaning up the one plate I dirtied I decided to do some reading while waiting for Roland to call. He rarely called two nights in a row, but I sensed after last night's conversation he would start calling a lot more often. I had already decided if he didn't call I would make him wear the cage an additional day when he got home. It was time to find out just how wide his submissive streak was. 

I wanted company while I read more of Roland's porn so I went into the bedroom and brought Jan into the living room. It was actually very comforting to hold the fake cock. Unlike the fake cock in my hands Jan hadn't been circumcised. They were about the same size. I couldn't wrap my hand around it I wondered if Ricky had a big cock. I remembered feeling his erection pressing against me when we were making out, but I didn't really check to see how big he was. I just remembered he was very hard and I was very wet and it felt really good to grind against him as we kissed.

I played with Jan, holding him by the balls and waving him. Some people have worry beads or the rosary for comfort; I had Jan. I would fondle, tickle, stroke, and even ran the shaft against my lips and tongue. I couldn't even get the entire head in my mouth but I tried. I would need a lot of practice not to mention finding a way to make my mouth wider to achieve fellatio on him.

I was in a good mood, feeling frisky, and hoping to further explore with Roland his fantasies. While the content of what I was reading made me blush it also got me wet.

I also found myself warming up to his fantasies. After all, my first affair had been great. The phone rang. I picked it up and said hello. It was Roland.

I asked how his day was, if his cage was bothering him, and if he had mailed me the key.

"My day's been great. The cage is good, but last night was the first time I slept wearing it. It was a bit painful."

"How so?"

"No place to grow. I have involuntary erections, but I can't get hard and they make my balls hurt."

"Poor boy," I replied, "I think if I massaged them they would feel better."

He assured me, "They would. They are so swollen and it hasn't even been a day."

I giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking about all the sperm you are storing up by not climaxing. Seems pointless as it's only going to go to waste."

"Ouch," he said not sounding offended, but aroused, his voice an octave lower and softer.

I lowered my voice too trying to sound seductive, giving him what he wanted to hear, "You know it's true. You'll get home. I'll unlock your cage, but only after I've had enough of your tongue and I'm going to want a lot of oral from you. After I let you out I'm not going to let your penis in me. I might be fertile around then and I don't want you accidentally knocking me up. I might also have a boyfriend by then and he wouldn't want you having sex with me. Unlike you some men don't want to share."

Roland moaned, "Thank you Jeanette. That was the hottest thing you've said to me in a long time. Now if I could only get out of this damn cage."

I answered hoping my voice was all sweet and syrupy, "You're weclome. As for getting out, I'm enjoying this way too much. You're in that cage until you get home and take care of me."

He asked how my day was.

"It's been great. I've been horny all day. Jan has been keeping me company. I read more of your collection."

"You did?"

"I did."

"And you're not disgusted?"

"Not at all. More shocked and surprised. Some of them I wouldn't mind trying."

"You would?" he sounded surprised and very, very excited. He hadn't been this excited about sex with me in years. Sure, he was tender, focused on my pleasure, always seemed to be looking forward to it although I noticed I was the one who always initiated it, but not excited like this.

"I would. I haven't seen you so excited in a long, long time. There's an eagerness, a hunger, that has been missing for a long time. Maybe this is what we need to reawaken your passion for me."

"Jeanette, I am hungry and passionate for you."

"Roland, let's be honest. You're not, not like you used to be. Remember when we dated we'd skip dinner, the movies, the clubs, so we could have sex. And we'd have sex and we'd talk and have more sex. Then we got married and got into a rut. You're a very good lover Roland, always making me orgasm, usually two or three times when we make love, but when was the last time you initiated sex?"

He mulled over my question a good sixty seconds. I almost wondered if he was going to hang up as he said nothing. I wasn't trying to start a fight, but to spark a conversation, one from the heart. I was willing to wait him out. 

Finally he responded, "Jeanette, you're right. I've been a horrible husband."

I cut him off, "No, Roland. You haven't been horrible. Deceitful, yes, horrible, no. You treat me very well."

He continued, but instead of retracting what he said he explained what he meant, "I should have been honest with you years ago. The reason I don't initiate isn't because I'm not attracted to you; it's because I like you to be in charge, to control me and what I do. It excites me when you tell me what to do."

"Control you? How so?"

"When you push my head down or grab a hold of my head and press my face against your..."

"My pussy? I wasn't trying to control you, but I'm just ready and excited for the foreplay to stop and the sex to start. I love you eating me. It's the best part of sex with you. You have an amazing mouth. As for holding your head I just try to guide your mouth to where it feels best."

"I know you're not trying to control me, but I pretend you are. It turns me on."

I mulled over what he told me.

"Roland, I will work on really controlling you, but I need two things from you. First, you had better not ever turn me down. No headaches, no too tired, no I need a shower, no it's late and I have to get up early. Put your face between my legs and get me off. Second, you need to initiate sex some of the time. I need to feel wanted by you, not just by the men I'm going to fuck."



Roman Holiday Ch. 05



Roland commented on the agony of being caged, something he had voluntarily committed to doing. He could have said no or not told me, but he volunteered the information even telling me about the key and tiny padlock. Until he told me I had no idea chastity cages existed.

"Just a few more days, Roland, and you'll be home and your little penis free, but only after I've had enough of your face between my legs."

He sounded very frustrated, "It's going to be more than a few days. My boss called today. The asshole wants me to stay another two weeks."

Asshole is right I thought. I wanted Roland home now, not two more weeks.

I know I sounded disappointed and I didn't care, "Asshole is right. I'm bummed and you're bummed, but look on the bright side."

"There's a bright side?" he asked.

I had been thinking of confessing everything, the two handed handjob I gave to a dying Jan, the makeout session with Ricky while Roland was passed out in the front seat, my almost affair with Ricky, and Mr. Married Man fucking me in our marital bed, but what I had in mind was infinitely better.

"Hmm hmm, there is."

He wasn't seeing the upside, just two more weeks of blue balls and not getting to eat me.

"In two weeks I can be having an affair with that asshole boss of yours. What's his name?"

I asked knowing his name.

"Not him," he protested, "Anybody but Richard. He already makes my life hell."

"Does he now? Too bad. Your life is about to get tougher."

"Jeanette, please. Not Richard. He'll be even more insufferable than he already is."

"I know. That's why he's perfect. Besides, I've already made up mind. The matter is closed for discussion. Richard, it is."

Dead silence followed. He didn't continue to plead his case. I wondered if I had pushed too hard or was he quiet because he was having one of those cuckold moments he and his friends wrote about. The boss fucking his wife was hugely humiliating and hugely arousing.

I even thought he might be speechless because he was trying to articulate why it wasn't a good idea. Honestly, it was a horrible idea which is why it was perfect. 

Since he wasn't talking I decided I would, "Roland, isn't Dick a nickname for Richard?"

"Huh huh," not seeing where I was going with my question. 

"Then it's even more perfect. Your wife will be getting dicked by Dick, the biggest dick you have ever worked for."

I got him to laugh because even he had to admit it was damn funny. Dick dicking me.

I laughed too. After we were through laughing about my play on words we both got quiet. I really had nothing else to say. I had made up my mind. Roland's protest was pretty lame, but if I had any doubts as to whether he was in or out, his next comment cleared them up.

He broke the silence, "What about protection? Are you going to insist he wear a condom?"

I could hear the excitement in his voice. He was on board.

"No, Roland, I wasn't planning to. If he gets me pregnant, you'll have to deal with it."

His voice got really deep. He was definitely aroused, "I'll deal with it. You are going to be even sexier pregnant."

"Turned on?" I asked.

"Very."

"Then it's a good thing you're wearing that cage. I want your focus on what I'm doing. By the way did you mail me the key?"

"I did," he answered.

We talked some about mundane things, but he was obviously distracted.

"Roland, are you imagining Richard fucking me?"

"I am. You're pregnant. On your hands and knees. Your belly is huge as are your tits. He is fucking you doggy style."

"That's a very nice picture you drew Roland. I just touched myself. I am soaking. I might have to masturbate later. I had better go. I have a busy day tomorrow thinking about how I'm going to seduce Richard."

I fell asleep, but not before masturbating using my big, black dildo I had named Jan.

As I fucked myself with Jan I fantasized about Roland's boss, Richard, fucking me. Not only did he fuck me, but in my fantasy he impregnated me while Roland watched and masturbated. As Richard filled me with his seed, Roland's penis erupted shooting stream after stream into the air where it fell on the floor instead of where it belonged, inside of my vagina, making nothing but a mess he would have to clean up when it should have been making a baby with me, his wife.

Afterwards I fell into a deep and very contented sleep. I awoke feeling rested and full of energy. Toweling off in front of the bathroom mirror I pictured myself as Roland pictured me, belly heavy with child and breasts swollen with milk. I couldn't wait to get pregnant.

All I had to do was seduce Richard; Darwin and natural selection would take care of the rest. 

Seducing Richard turned out to be pretty easy. I purposely involved Roland because he provided me the perfect cover story for why I was visiting the office and because it felt good to hear his reaction as I twisted my adulterous, slutty, and shameless knife. I didn't feel guilty because he had made it quite clear in both his writings and his actions he wanted to be betrayed, humiliated, and denied.

I began my seduction by insisting Roland call Richard to let him know I would be coming to the office to pick up some papers he had forgotten, papers he now needed me to Fed Ex to him.

I detected discomfort, but also arousal in Roland's voice when I told him what he needed to do. He asked if he had to and wondered why I couldn't just show up. I answered him with a question. How badly did he want another man to fuck me? 

As I suspected his whining was just an act, part of the persona he was playing, only it wasn't pretend. 

He was breathing faster, a sure sign of arousal, "I'll do it. I do have some things from the office I could use here."

I cut the call short telling him to call me after he had spoken with Richard.

I went to bed, but not before fucking myself while fantasizing about being with Richard.

I really didn't know Richard. He was several decades older than Roland and I. He was a big man, at least 6 feet 6 inches, barrel chested, round face, tanned from lots of golf, athletic, but he had a gut, was chauvinistic, opinionated, a bit of a bully, and used to intimidating people with his size and position. He demanded obedience from his subordinates. He made his bosses a lot of money.

I imagined Richard's dominance in the work enviornment would carry over into the bedroom. I had several toe curling orgasms imagining Richard putting me through the paces making me prove I was worthy not just for his cock, but to carry his child.

The next night Roland called to tell me he had spoken with Richard and he would be on the lookout for me. I asked Roland what I was picking up or would the papers be waiting for me all neatly arranged on Richard's desk. 

Roland answered, "No. You wouldn't have any reason to be there for more than a minute. You'll have to find and assemble them. Once you've got them all together I think you should show them to Richard and get his approval before sending them to me."

I told Roland, "I like your plan. You've obviously put some thought into this. Tell me. What kind of man is Richard, tits, ass, or leg? I need to know how to dress."

My calm both excited and unnerved Roland. 

He actually stuttered, "I d-d-d-on't k-k-know."

"I thought he was your boss. Surely you've objectified and talked about women, your likes, dislikes, his likes dislikes."

"We have. He's more of an ass and tits man, but he likes legs too."

His voice grew soft, barely above a whisper, "He told me he wouldn't mind tapping you, said you were the complete package, told me he envied what I was tapping."

I felt equal parts arousal and anger. Mad my own husband saw me as nothing more than an object for he and others to use sexually. They didn't care about me emotionally or see beyond my physical attributes. I was a piece of meat. 

At the same time there was something very appealing about being desired on such a primitive level. No strings attached sex. Thankfully, men like Richard and Mr. Married Man had big egos driving them to sexually satisfy their women. Making a woman orgasm wasn't done for the sake of the woman, but to validate the man's prowess.

I both hated and wanted Richard. I couldn't wait for his big cock to fill me up. As for how I felt about Roland, conflicted. Was he pushing me to have sex with other men because he cared about my pleasure or his own? 

I ignored Roland's comments and changed subjects talking about our respective work days. We talked about the house, the weather, and my cooking. I told him I missed him and I asked him if he missed me.

He said he did. He then choked up. He did something I had never heard him do. He started to cry. He apologized for all the lies, his sexual fantasies, and his feelings of inadequacy, for not just having them, but for not having shared them with me, his wife. He said he had been a lousy friend.

I felt bad for him because everything he said was true. He had been a lousy friend, husband, and lover. He had been deceiving me for a very long time. After sex with Mr. Married Man and masturbating with the dildo he bought me I concluded all the lies were built on a truth. He was sexually inadequate and now we both knew it. 

My voice he said had never sounded sweeter.

"Roland, honey, I accept your apology. Quit beating yourself up. I'm not going to leave you. I love you very much. I will support you on this, but no more lies. You built a wall between us, but we're knocking it down. Now, let's talk about Richard and how he and I are going to make a baby. Tell me how you imagine this plays out."

I quickly learned he had given it a lot of thought. He was both very scared and aroused and very obsessed. I took Jan and slowly fucked myself as he described how my affair with Richard would play out. I was totally turned on and told him so. Jan felt good, but what I really craved was Roland's mouth on my pussy. When Roland returned I was going to demand lots of oral. 

He imagined Richard fucking me on our bed. He wanted me to call him and leave the phone off the hook while it happened. He wanted me to become emotionally attached to Richard, to be his girlfriend, to go on dates, to come back home and tell him about my dates as he worshiped me with his tongue.

I encouraged him to keep talking as my orgasm was building.

"Roland, tell me how you imagine Richard and I making a baby."

What he told me pushed me over the edge. I put the phone down, used both hands and rapidly fucked myself as my orgasm washed over me. 

I needed a minute to catch my breath and gather my thoughts. My body was on fire.

I picked up the phone. 

He said, "That sounded intense."

I assured him, "It was."

Regarding his fantasy, "That was hot Roland. We can make it happen, but first we need to get Richard and I together. Let's talk about tomorrow."



Roman Holiday Ch. 06



As I drove to Roland's place of work I was a bundle of nerves, a very aroused bundle of nerves. Scared, but turned on. Worried about what I was about to do turning out badly, but I was also feeling something else, empowered, emancipated, confident, and very much in charge. It was heady and overwhelming. Much to my surprise it felt right. Having grown up in a patriarchal family where my dad was definitely in charge I looked for just the opposite in a man.

From the start Roland had always been deferential, always pitching in, always attentive, but I also found him sexually frustrating. His passivity I mistook for a lack of desire. I beat myself up thinking it was me, that I wasn't attractive enough or that I wasn't sexually imaginative or skilled. I had been blind to the double life he was living and didn't pick up on all the hints he was dropping.

He wanted me in charge. He wanted a strong woman, someone firm and even a bit cruel. 

What surprised me is how good it felt to assume the role of that woman. I didn't feel guilty, ashamed, or remorseful. The experience I had with Mr. Married Man had been wonderful. He gave me what Roland had never done in five years of marriage and three years of dating, my first orgasm from intercourse.

With my supersized dildo Jan I was continuing to experience orgasms from fucking. They weren't better than the orgasms I had from Roland eating me, but they filled a sexual void. I needed to be fucked. I deserved to be fucked and from now on I refused to be shortchanged sexually.

Unlike Roland who craved submission around the clock I didn't want to be a full time dominatrix. 23 hours of the day was fine, but not 24. I wanted in a sexual partner someone who could put me through the paces, who would bend me to their will, who would fuck me until my eyes rolled in the back of my head, who would pump and pump and pump and fill my womb with his cum. Like the romance novels I read I wanted a strong, aggressive, arrogant man, someone equal parts harsh and gentle and that is why Richard immediately came to mind.

There were many things about him I found attractive. He possessed a deep, baritone voice, a voice both sexy when he spoke softly or a bit scary when he was barking orders. He was older, distinguished looking, tall and in spite of his belly physically fit. He made a lot more money than my husband. He was Roland's boss. He was fair, but firm. He demanded a lot, but he gave a lot. He had seen Roland's talent and pushed him to do more and rewarded his efforts with more pay and more responsibility.

I also knew he had a thing for me. He was always checking me out. He had cornered me more than once at a party usually after he had been overindulging in drink. My back to the wall, he would get very close, speak very softly, tell me all the wonderful things my husband was doing, and then gradually change the subject to me, even going so far as to brush a stray hair back into place, or telling me how pretty my eyes were or how he liked my smile or the shade of my lipstick. I liked the hunger I sensed in him. It made me feel wanted. He had never pursued anything further and I had certainly never encouraged him, but there was a chemistry between us.

I soon discovered just how right I had been. What I also learned is how Roland had picked up on it too. He had been fantasizing about Richard fucking his wife for years.

Richard was charming and engaging. He even ordered us lunch as we searched through Roland's desk and file cabinets for the papers he needed. After getting all the papers together we sat in his office, ate lunch, and chatted. I felt comfortable around him. I sensed interest from him in me. I saw him checking me out and I did the same to him. I thanked him and asked in what I hoped was my most seductive voice, "Richard, is there anything I can do for you to repay you for your help today? I never would have found those papers and lunch was great."

He looked me in the eye. I noticed his Adam's Apple as he swallowed before answering. I wondered if he was nervous.

He looked down at my left hand, his eyes focused on my rings, and took my hand into his. His hands I thought were so big, proportionate to his body. He toyed with the diamond on my engagement ring, commenting on how pretty the stone was.

"Yes, there is one thing you could do."

"Okay, only one." I joked wondering what he was going to ask, feeling very nervous, but wanting him to ask.

"Go to dinner with me."

We were staring at each other. I could feel this nervous energy coursing through me. I felt aroused and coquettish.

"Richard, I'd like that very much, but I'm a married woman. This isn't a small town. There's always the chance we could run into someone we know."

He sounded disappointed when he said, "Oh."

I squeezed the hand holding mine, smiled, batted my eyelashes, ran my tongue across my lips and said, "I have a better idea. Why don't you come to my house? I'll make dinner. You bring the wine. We can relax and not worry about tongues wagging or finger pointing. It's up to you, but I would feel more comfortable on our first date if we just stayed in."

I purposely used the word date to gauge his reaction, to show my interest, and because dating fit into Roland's fantasy. He wanted me to date.

Richard looked very happy and eager, "Okay. When do you want me to come over for our first date?"

"How about tonight?"

"Tonight sounds great."

We settled on a time. His excitement fed my own. I was as giddy as a schoolgirl with a crush. 

He brought his face close to mine. His free hand he placed under my chin and tilted my head up. He pressed his lips softly against mine. We kissed. It reminded me of the first kiss Roland and I shared, perfection.

Unlike that first kiss with Roland which didn't lead to a second kiss until another night, my first kiss with Richard quickly led to another and another, open mouthed, wet, with lots of tongue. I ended up straddling him as we made out. He was I thought a very good kisser. Excited, but controlled, just the right amount of tongue. 

A knock at the door prevented our makeout session from becoming a full blown sex session. 

I grudgingly got off his lap as he told the person on the other side, "One minute."

I kissed him on the bridge of his nose and said, "See you tonight. "

Some of my lipstick had rubbed off on his face. I asked him if he had any tissues. He asked why. I told him.

We both chuckled. He told me there were some on top of his desk. I walked over, grabbed a few and wiped his face clean of evidence.

Finished I told him, "Much better."

He stood up and walked me to the door. He opened the door. I hadn't been nervous when it was just he and I alone in his office, but now I felt like all eyes were on us. The receptionist, my husband's coworkers, the man waiting to see Richard. I wonder what they were thinking and if they were judging me. 

I thanked the receptionist for getting us lunch. She was friendly, all smiles. I glanced at the man waiting to see Richard. Was he smiling or leering? I now know how Little Red Riding Hood felt. This wolf looked like he wanted to sexually devour me. I smiled back thinking he was very handsome. I wondered who he was.

I felt all eyes were on me as I walked out. I knew I looked good. I imagined Richard and his visitor were staring at my ass. 

Before leaving the building I stopped in the bathroom. When I wiped I noticed just how wet I was. I smiled thinking about that first kiss. I couldn't wait to see him. It was when I was standing in front of the mirror reapplying my lipstick and brushing my hair I noticed I looked rather disheveled. My blouse had been tucked into my skirt when I entered the building. My hair had been in place. I had lipstick on. I didn't remember him pulling on my blouse.

I tucked my shirt back in.

I was in a good mood and after getting home from work and checking the mail in a great mood because in the mailbox was a letter from Roland. Inside the letter was a key to his cage.

He had included a card. I read it. He told me how much he loved me, apologized for his deceptions, promised to obey, said I was his queen and cuckoldress, and said I was now his keyholder, my control of him complete. 

I got in the house and began making dinner. I really liked what Roland had written and was really looking forward to Richard's arrival. I decided I would stage a ceremony with Roland. He would put the key on a necklace and ask me to wear it. I would tell him yes and he would put the necklace on me. Afterwards I would have him perform cunnilingus on me. If I was in a really good mood I might even uncage his penis and masturbate him.

It was I thought good to be in charge, to be the one making the rules, to have no restrictions except those I placed on myself.

Dinner going I took a quick shower. I decided to dress as though I were actually going out. Black stockings, garter belt, and bra, but no panties under my favorite navy blue dress. Two inch heels. Makeup and lipstick. Even curled my hair. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. On the dresser was the key to the chastity device.

I looked at it and said to myself, "Oh, what the hell. I can have a second ceremony with Roland at a later date." I searched through my jewelry box, found a silver necklace, replaced the crucifix on the chain with the key, and put it on. The necklace was long. I decided it looked better inside my dress than out. I dropped it down the front and moved around a bit until I felt the key between my breasts.

"Much better," I thought before heading back to the kitchen to finish making dinner.

I was nervous, but it was because I was excited. I hoped he was wearing a suit and that he had gotten roses along with the bottle of wine. I wanted to be romanced and bedded.

Richard arrived. I opened the door to find him standing there wearing a suit. He looked so handsome, powerful, and tall. Even with my heels on he towered over me. In his hands he had both roses and wine. My fantasy was coming true.

In the house I closed the door. I took the wine and flowers from him. He followed me into the kitchen. He said what I was making smelled delicious and that I looked beautiful. I told him I hoped he would like what I was making and that he was very handsome.

"Should I open the bottle or save it for later?" I asked.

"Please open it." he answered.

"The glasses are over there." 

He got the glasses as I uncorked the bottle. I had waitressed in an Italian restaurant when I was in college and had opened many a bottle of wine.

I poured us each a glass. 

He offered a toast, "To new adventures."

I smiled very much liking his toast before repeating, "To new adventures."

We each took a sip. He asked if he could help me in the kitchen. I told him he could strain the pasta. I buttered the slices of bread, sprinkled them with garlic powder, put the baking sheet in the oven. He put the pasta back into the pot. I told him to add the cream, cheese, and butter. 

"You'd better take off your coat," I warned him.

He did. I took his coat and hung it in the hall closet next to one of Roland's coats. 

I looked at him admiring the way he dressed, the gold cufflinks, the custom tailored shirt and pants, the polished wing tips, even his razor cut haircut. I wanted him so bad but kept my distance. I was already thinking ahead to after dinner.

I had chicken saltimbocca in the oven. I took it out. He finished preparing the fettucini alfredo. The bread was nearly done in the top rack. 

I told him where the bowls and plates were. I told him to go sit down in the dining room. I served our plates his portion twice the size of mine thinking he's a big man and eats a lot.

He watched as I set his plate down then mine.

"It looks delicious," he said.

"Thank you," I beamed.

I didn't sit down right away. An idea hit me, "Richard, I have a favor to ask. You don't have to do it, but it would mean a lot to me."

"I'll do it."

I left the room and returned with Roland's camera. 

"Would you take a picture of me and then of the food I've prepared?"

He took the camera from me. I smiled as he aimed it at me and hit the button. He stood up and took a picture of our two plates, the bottle of wine, our glasses, the roses in a vase.

"Thanks," I said extending my hand. He handed me the camera and I took a photo of him.

We sat down, the camera on the table and began to eat.

I told him, "Richard, at lunch I did almost all the talking. Now it's your turn. You know everything about me, but other than you being my husband's boss and being attracted to me I know almost nothing about you. Tell me, what makes Richard Richard."

He told me about himself. Married to work. Didn't date often. Loved sports both as a spectator and participant. Exercised alot because as he pointed to the small gut he had he had a big appetite for food and drink. Played a lot of golf which explained why he was so tan. Had been married a long time before. Had kids who were now adults. 

"And when did you have an eye on me?"

He answered, "From the first day I saw you at the company campout. I didn't know you were Roland's wife. You were wearing a bikini. I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."

"I do remember that campout and I still have that bikini. Maybe I'll wear it for you one of these days."

He smiled, "I'd like that."

We resumed eating.

He asked, "When did you have your eye on me?"

I stared at him as I sucked a stray noodle into my mouth. Not ladylike but sexy.

"You're hard not too miss. I always enjoyed our interactions. You're my husband's boss so I was glad we got along."

Then I dropped the bombshell.

"You were the first person I thought of when I decided I wanted to get pregnant."

He choked on his food, took a rather large gulp of wine, swallowed and said, "I didn't see that one coming."

I laughed. He laughed.

He asked, "Are you serious?"

"I am."

His eyes narrowed. "What about Roland?"

I answered, toying with my glass, taking a short swallow, "What about Roland?"

And then he took charge.

Our dining room table seated twelve. We occupied a corner of it.

"Jeanette, I'm done with dinner and ready for dessert. Come here."

I got up and stood beside him. He was seated and I was barely taller than him. He moved the chair next to him out of the way and scooted his chair over. He turned and picked me up and laid me on the table hiking my dress up.

"Hand me the camera."

He took a photo of my exposed crotch, put the camera down, and pulled me towards him as he lowered his head. He had a very talented mouth. I was very vocal and praised him. Within a few minutes I had a very strong orgasm.

I pushed his head away as I couldn't handle any more stimulation.

He smiled or was it a smirk. I couldn't tell. Not only was his face wet, but so were his shirt and tie.

He reached over and grabbed the camera took a shot of my pussy then handed me the camera. "Take one of me."

I sat up, aimed the camera at his face, and clicked the button, hoping it would capture my juices on his face and shirt.

"Where's the bedroom?" he asked. 

"Over there," I pointed.

"Hold on to the camera."

He got up and carried me to the bedroom. I wrapped my legs around him. In the bedroom I dropped the camera onto the mattress. I put my arms around his neck and pulled his head towards mine. We kissed finishing with me licking his face.

He unzipped my dress and peeled it off of me as he deposited me on the bed.

"The camera."

I handed it to him. He stood and photographed me in my bra, stockings and garter belt, my bush exposed. I kicked off my heels. He spotted a photo of Roland and I, from our wedding, and took a shot of it.



Roman Holiday Ch. 07



He handed me the camera and I took photos of him as he disrobed. He was heavily muscled had more body hair than Roland, but it just made him look more manly. When I saw his cock my jaw dropped. His manhood was bigger than my oversized dildo, Jan.

My eyes got wide. What was lust he mistook as fear.

"Don't worry. I'll go slow."

"I assure you. I'm not worried. I have complete confidence in you."

He looked rather sheepish, "Most women run when they see it."

"Richard, by now you've figured out I'm not like most women. I don't if it will fit, but I'm willing to try."

I got up and took a few more photos of him, aiming my camera at his supersized genitalia.

I pulled the comforter down and got in bed on my back.

"Get in bed," I said.

I took a shot of his chest as he got on top of me. He thankfully kept his weight off of me. He outweighed me by nearly two hundred pounds. His belly rested on mine. I ran my hands along the back of his very pronounced triceps. He was solid like a truck. 

He lowered his head to mine. We began a series of french kisses, each one longer and better than the one preceding it.

My legs were wide open and felt stretched to accomodate his much wider body. The head of his cock was nestled against my labia. I was very wet.

In between a pause in our kisses I undid my bra which hooked from the front. 

He immediately moved his mouth down, mumbling as he did how he had wanted to feast on my breasts since that day at the camp out. I liked his big mouth on my big tits. He expertly chewed, sucked, licked, and nipped on each breast.

"Give me a hickey," I groaned.

He did, grabbed the camera afterwards, and took a shot.

"I want you in me,"

I took the camera. He sat back on his haunches. He held his cock aiming it at my sex. He took the head and rubbed it up and down my slit, massaging my clitoris with it, ratcheting up my desire.

Click, click, click.

And then he pushed forward, slowly skewering me. Back then forward, me breathing heavier, wanting him out, but insisting he go back in, getting used to it, loving the fullness and how it completely stimulated my vagina. It was hard to talk as I had to concentrate. He wasn't just long but wide. 

And he was going in deeper and deeper. He got back on top of me. We began fucking, he going faster, me going crazy. My orgasms began, like a series of firecrackers. I clawed his back leaving scratchmarks and bit his shoulder. 

He was in complete control of a woman possessed. He asked, "Are you fertile?"

I told him not for another week. 

He asked if I loved his cock. I told him, "Isn't it obvious?" 

He said, "I want to hear it. Tell me you love my cock more than Roland's."

I was breathing heavy, about to have another even bigger O, "I love your cock more than Roland's. There's no comparison. Roland's is tiny."

I hit the big O. He hit my g-spot and I felt msyelf literally drenching the bed. He stroked in and out of me another dozen times before announcing he was going to come.

"Come in me," I begged.

I swore I could feel his cock swell and jerk each time he shot a stream of cum into me. 

I was physically drained. He pulled out of me, his cock making a loud slurping noise as he broke the seal. My vagina expelled air. He reached over, grabbed the camera and took a close up shot of my worn out pussy. Red, swollen, oozing cum, lots of cum as Richard's big balls produced a lot of ejaculate.

Afterwards I told him how good it was. He told me how good it was for him.

We cuddled. I asked him if he wanted more wine. He said he did. I went to the bathroom. I felt so open. I expelled his cum into the toilet wishing I could save it for Roland. I went into the dining room, filled our glasses and came back to bed.

We cuddled. The phone rang. I ignored it.

"Aren't you going to answer it?"

"Do you think I should?"

"It might be Roland."

"Or a salesman."

"Not this late. Answer it."

I picked up the phone. It was Roland.

"Hi Roland," hoping I sounded pleasant.

Richard motioned for me to give him the phone.

"Roland, this is Richard. I want you to know I'm in your bed having just made love to your very beautiful wife. We'll talk when you get back, maybe even sooner. I'm going to give the phone back to Jeanette. Tell her goodnight."

I took the phone. Roland sounded so depressed, even heartbroken as he said, "Goodnight."

I felt bad, "Goodnight Roland. I love you."

He answered, "I love you too."

I hung up the phone and said to Richard, "What you did was cruel. You had no right."

He pulled me towards him, pressed his mouth to mine, I opened mine, and the conversation ended. A few minutes later he was on his back and I was riding his cock to orgasm after orgasm. 

He played with my tits knowing just what they wanted.

He spotted the key and asked, "What's this for?"

His question ramped up my arousal. I was breathing hard and moaning and it was hard to talk but I gasped, "I'm Roland's keyholder."

"His what?"

"Keyholder. Roland wears a cage."

"Wears a cage where?"

"On his penis. To prevent him from cumming."

Discussing Roland's cage had the same effect on him as it did me. He grabbed my hips and bounced me up and and down his love stick even faster. We orgasmed literally at the same time. He shot up and I flooded down amazed at how much fluid I could secrete. I had never been so wet with Roland. If it weren't for the mattress liner we would have soaked the mattress.

Afterwards we curled up in bed. I explored his cock with my hands and mouth. I found myself hooked on him. We fucked a third time before falling asleep. He spooned me, his now limp cock snuggled up against my buttocks. 

In the middle of the night I woke up. Richard was snoring. I picked up the phone and dialed Roland. He picked up. I kept my voice barely above a whisper. 

"How are you doing?"

"Fine. Miserable. So conflicted."

"That's good. You should feel conflicted. It means you still have feelings for me."

"I do. I'm so jealous, but I'm also so happy. It was good wasn't it?"

"It was very good Roland, best sex ever."

"I'm not very good at sex am I."

"Roland, you're fine. It's just different."

"But not as good as him."

"No, not as good as Richard."

I changed subjects, "I can't wait until you're home. I miss you. I want your head between my legs."

He sounded like he was about to cry or possibly even crying, "I can't wait to be home either. I miss you too. I want to eat you and get out of this damn cage."

"You will. Now go back to sleep and have some good dreams."

I put the phone down and drifted off to sleep.



Roman Holiday Ch. 08



Richard woke up before I did. He grabbed his clothes, dressed, and headed out the door, but not before kissing me.

"Call me." he said.

"At work or home?" 

"Either one."

"I don't have your home phone."

"I'll write it down for you. And Jeanette I had a wonderful time last night. Thank you."

"Richard, I should be the one thanking you. That was the best sex ever."

He laughed, "You ain't seen nothing."

He left, going home to change and shower before heading to work. I fell back asleep, but not for very long. My alarm went off.

I took a shower, examined the hickeys on my tits and noticed he had left one where my neck and shoulder met. I was proud of them. I couldn't wait to see Roland's reaction. My pussy had never been so sore. I would need time getting used to Richard's cock. 

At my lunch break I called him. We made plans to see each other Friday night. 

We talked and Roland and I talked. I pulled no punches sharing with Roland everything Richard and I did and said. 

"You've got a crush on him, don't you?" he observed. There was no jealousy in his voice, just excitement.

"I do," I admitted.

I also admitted to being nervous as things were moving fast. I reminded him I was going to be fertile the following week and asked if he was really prepared for Richard and I to conceive.

He assured me he was. As proof he said his caged penis was dripping so much precum. It reminded him of a leaky faucet. I told him I was wearing his key on a chain around my neck.

He asked if Richard had noticed the key. I told him he had.

We talked about his conversation with Richard. It had hurt and aroused him. I told him I thought Richard had been cruel.

"Not cruel, just blunt, that's Richard. I wouldn't have expected anything different."

"But he was really rubbing your nose in it, the cuckolding. He told you we had made love. He made me hang up the phone."

He answered, "It was rough to hear, but I needed to hear it. I wanted to hear it. It affirmed so many things."

"Like what?"

"That I'm a cuckold. He's the better man, stronger, richer, handsome, and bigger."

"Roland, you're so hard on yourself. Why does it excite you to be humiliated?"

It was nearly a minute before he answered, "I don't know, but it does. I have a question for you. Why did it excite you to humiliate me? Don't deny it. You were turned on."

I admitted to Roland, "I was, but after I hung up the phone I told him he was cruel."

Making his point, Roland asked, "And then what did you do afterwards? Send him home? Make him promise to be nice?"

"Touche," I said, "No. He kissed me and we made love again."

I told him about my plans for the weekend and how Richard and I were going to have a lot of sex in our bed. 

He said he wished he could be there.

I told him it was probably for the best he wasn't. 

"I could be wrong, but I don't think Richard would be comfortable if you were home. It would be weird having you watch, not just when he and I have sex, but everything else."

"Like what?"

"Like the two of us making dinner, or cuddling on the couch watching the t.v. or having a conversation, talking about our days, the weather, family, sports."

He said, "It doesn't have to be weird. I'd be seen and not heard and if you saw too much of me I'd go to the guest room."

I laughed, but it was a good laugh, "You are such a cuck. We'll see."

I told him I loved him and he said he loved me. I went to bed dreaming about not one, but two men. 

My weekend with Richard went very well. We clicked not just sexually. He was very into me. I called Roland each day, sometimes several times a day. Richard would give me so much time to talk to Roland before taking the phone from me, telling Roland he was going to hang up because he was going to make love to me.

One time he held the phone in front of me, "Tell him Jeanette. Tell him goodnight because you want to make love with your boyfriend."

I said it, but not loud enough for Richard's satisfaction. On the third time I was almost shouting into the handset which was two feet from my mouth, "Goodnight Roland. I'm going to go make love with my boyfriend!"

What should have been a turn off had the opposite effect. I was hyper aroused orgasming over Richard's slightest touch. I liked being a cuckoldress. It was so empowering and it made great sex even better.

I couldn't wait to make a baby with Richard.

Sunday night he left for his house late. No sooner was he gone than Roland called.

We chatted for hours. As weird as it sounds the bond between us was us getting stronger, not weaker. There was a level of intimacy we had never had in all the years we had been together. We were confidants. I shared with him everything and he with me. We even had phone sex. Actually I had phone sex while he listened, unable to join me because of the cage.

Monday Richard surprised me.

"When are you fertile?"

"Thursday or Friday."

"Want to take a trip?"

"Where to?"

"Rome, where Roland is."

I could feel my excitement building, "To do what?"

"To make a baby with you. In front of Roland, at the movie house."

"I'd like that."

"I'll get tickets if you can get off work."

"Trust me. I'll get off work."

Conversation over we had the absolutely hottest sex ever. I had never come so much. Afterwards he told me, "No more sex until the big day. I want to make sure I have plenty of cum for you."

Richard was sweeping me off my feet. Best boyfriend ever.

Wednesday came and our relationship unraveled. Just when I thought he was good with everything he said after he knocked me up he intended to run away with me. 

"What?" I asked.

"Run away with you. You'll be carrying my baby. Roland will have had his thrills. The only thing left for us to do after conceiving is for you to leave him. That would be his ultimate turn on."

"Richard, I like you a lot. I mean I really, really like you, but I have no intention of leaving Roland. It's complicated. I hope you'll stick around and be my boyfriend for a very, very long time."

He confessed, "I want to be more than a boyfriend Jeanette. I want to start a life with you. I'm 46. You're 26. You'll get tired of Roland's perversion."

"You think it's a perversion? You certainly seemed turned on by it. I don't think I will get tired of Roland's quote perversion."

He looked mad, "It is a turn on. What man wouldn't want to dominate a woman and steal her from her husband. If you don't see yourself getting tired of it I guess even I can't satisfy your lust."

"I didn't say I would cheat on you Richard. I'm a one man kind of woman."

"Roland and I make two. You're a two man kind of woman."

"He's my husband."

He interrupted, "No, he's your cuckold, not much of a husband to want his wife to fuck other men and to get pregnant by them."

"Richard, I think you need to leave. Roland may not fit your definition of manhood, but he is all man."

Richard left. I even tried to kiss him. He jerked away. On the dining room table where he so expertly ate me he left the airline tickets.

I left for Rome by myself. I looked for him at the airport hoping he might have a change of heart. I wondered if Roland would lose his job.

My flight made several stops. I was in my seat by the window when who should appear, but Ricky, Jan's brother.

He looked down and I looked up.

"Jeanette?"

"Ricky?"

He sat down. Still in the Army, he was heading back to Fort Drum.

"But this plane is going to Rome?

"I know, but I couldn't get a ticket. There's a bus."

My heart was pounding. He still looked good. I hadn't seen him since that night at his grandmother's house.

He caught me up on his life and I caught him up on mine. 

The chemistry was still there. He ordered us drinks. I swear sparks flew whenever we made accidental contact. He told me I still looked great. I told him he did too.

I told him to get closer. I whispered in his ear, my breath all nice and warm, my lips nearly touching his ear, "I wish I hadn't chickened out."

He looked at me, "Me too."

He whispered in my ear, "I wanted to fuck you so bad. Still do."

Another layover, this time longer. We had lunch and a few more drinks. I wanted him so bad. 

"I have a confession to make, Ricky."

I told him about Roland, everything about Roland.

He said, "Wow, I always thought he wasn't passed out in the front seat. He wants another man to knock you up."

I nodded yes, "Keep your voice down. He even has the place picked out."

"And I just show up."

"Ricky, I think it's a sign."

"Jeanette, I do to."

He leaned into me and I leaned into him. We exchanged a kiss.

"Let's do it Jeanette."

We landed, got our luggage. I called Roland's room from a payphone in the airport.

Roland was in his room. I told him I was in town and had a huge surprise for him. He said he would come get me. I told him I already had a ride and for him to meet me at the bookistore movie theater.

"Is Richard with you?" he asked sounding very excited and a little bit scared.

"No questions. You'll know soon enough. Ten o'clock, be there."

Ricky hailed us a cab. We checked into a hotel three blocks from the theater. I used Roland's credit card to pay for the room. 

We entered the room and no sooner had we put the suitcases down and the door closed we began kissing. He started to undress me. I stopped him and said we needed to wait.

He sounded frustrated. We lay on the bed fully dressed and had a wonderful necking session. I had to stop him several times from going any further.

We were both very worked up. 

I asked him if he was nervous or freaking out.

He said, "Not at all. What about you?"

"A little. I've never had sex in a roomful of people, much less a roomful of people with my husband watching. You don't think we're freaks do you?"

He laughed, "You're definitely freaks, but who am I to judge. I've wanted to fuck you for so long. If this is what it takes I'll do it. Besides I like you and Roland. You took really good care of Jan."

He asked what I was going to do after he fucked and hopefully impregnated me in front of Roland and the other cucks.

"Come back here with you. I'll see Roland tomorrow after you're gone."

He liked my answer

"Jeanette, this is some serious shit you and Roland are about to do. You really think he's up to raise a black man's baby."

"I guess we'll find out. If not I'll do it alone. I'm a strong woman."

"That you are."

We headed to the theater. I was carrying a bag with my robe in it. I planned to strip, put on the robe, undo the sash and be completely naked in front of everyone while Ricky bred me.

We entered the bookstore which smelled of smoke, lysol, and cum. I headed to the restroom which was thankfully clean. The man working the desk knew what we were there for. He nodded in the direction of the theater.

I changed. I was soaking wet. My nipples were super hard and very sensitive. It wouldn't take much to push me over the edge. I wondered where Roland was and what his reaction was going to be.

Ricky and I entered the theater and walked to the front. It was dark save for the light from the movie that was playing. I spotted Roland. He looked freaked out, especially after he saw I was with a black man. It took him a second to realize it was Ricky. 

I smiled at him, then focused on Ricky. We started making out. I unbuttoned his shirt, unbuckled the belt on his pants, unfastened his pants, pulled down his zipper, and tugged his pants down.

He kicked off his shoes and his pants. He looked like Adonis, except between his legs was no figleaf covered penis, but a cock rivaling Richard's.

The chair at the front of the theater reclined way back. It had no arms and was wider than the others. This was obviously the breeding chair.

"Roland," I called out. I held my hand out. He stepped away from the group of men who had surrounded us, the men with their small cocks out, stroking themselves, waiting for the show to begin so they could pound their meat.

He clasped my left hand, the one with my engagement and wedding bands on it. 

I lay back in the chair. Roland sat beside me holding my hand. Ricky didn't even so much as glance towards him. I opened my legs and pulled them up towards my chest, my toes pointing down.

Ricky mounted me, guiding himself into me. He was big but had no problems as I was so wet and open. I was very fertile.

He and I began to fuck. I held hands with Roland for a few more minutes, but as my excitement built, I let go of his hand and embraced Ricky trying to pull him into me deeper and deeper. 

I came and yelled out for him to give me a baby, to give me his seed.

We were kissing and fucking and it was so good. Surrounded by other cucks who were furiously masturbating their cum hitting the floor Ricky and I made a baby. His cock I thought was perfect. I swore I could feel the heat of his sperm as he coated my womb. He was so deep inside of me.

Finished, Ricky got off me. Flat on my back and my legs still open wide I didn't have long to wait for Roland to make his move. He was on the floor and his face buried in my wetness while Ricky dressed and watched. A few cucks got closer. I caressed Roland's head as he orally pleased me. 

Most of the cucks were content to keep their distance, but a few got bold. I didn't stop them when they caressed my breasts and twisted and pinched my nipples. I even opened my mouth when one proffered his cock to me. I was a total slut. 

"Suck my tits," I groaned and immediately had two mouths on my breasts. I let go of Roland's head and grabbed two cocks. I was sucking one and wanking two. 

Roland brought me closer and closer to orgasm. I sucked and wanked harder.

As I orgasmed the cocks in my hand shot off as did the one in my mouth. I didn't swallow. I grabbed Roland by the hair. He got on top of me, fully dressed. I pressed my mouth to his and passed into it the cum of my anonymous donor.

It was an incredible experience, intimate in a way I can't adequately put into words.

Roland thanked me afterwards a half dozen times.

I shushed him and said it was time for me to go.

He got off of me. I put the robe back on. Ricky and I exited the theater. I went into the bathroom and changed. We then walked back to the hotel and jumped into the shower. 

We then got in bed and made love until sleep overcame us. Each time we fucked he made it a point to remind me I was carrying his baby, which wasn't just any baby, but a black man's baby. 

"None of those white boys have a cock like mine. I'm superiorer."

"No they don't. And yes you are. Yours is the best."

It wasn't totally truthful as Richard certainly had a cock as big as his, but it sure made the sex hotter. I was getting off on being Ricky's bitch. He was such a good looking man. I wondered if he had a bunch of baby mommas out there. He certainly seemed very comfortable putting on a show. I wondered if he had knocked up other married women.

The next day, after a rather emotional goodbye at the bus station, I went to the payphone and called Roland, telling him I needed to be picked up. Ricky and I exchanged phone numbers and addresses and promised to stay in touch. He said whenever he was in town he would look me up. I told him, "I would like that very much."

He patted my flat stomach and said he wished he could be there when it started to swell. He said he trusted me to do right by our baby. I assured him I would.



Roman Holiday Ch. 09



As Ricky's bus left the terminal I found a pay phone and called Roland.

I didn't know what to expect. Would he sound wounded, surly, or even answer the phone? Last night he eagerly embraced what I hoped was a successful impregnation, but how did he feel afterwards when I departed the theater with Ricky and not him?

Would he still be thankful?

On the sixth ring he picked up the phone.

"Roland?"

"Hi Jeanette."

"I'm at the bus station. Do you want to come and get me?"

He sounded cheerful, even enthusiastic. 

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

I waited out front, my suitcase in hand. He pulled up in his rental car. He got out and walked towards me. I opened my arms. He hugged me, squeezing me so hard. He kissed me then told me how much he missed me.

He opened the door for me. I got in. He put my suitcase in the trunk, got in the car, and we left the bus terminal.

I scooted next to him. He put his right arm around me. He asked if I was hungry or if I wanted to go to the hotel.

"To the hotel," I answered.

I knew what he wanted and I wanted the same thing, to reconnect. I also knew our reunion would be different. I leaned over and nipped his earlobe then ran my tongue across his ear. I knew this drove him crazy. My mouth pressed against his ear I told him, "I want you."

I reached between his legs, but instead of a cock I could caress I gripped the hard acrylic tube keeping him chaste and under my control. 

He said he wanted me too.

We got to the hotel and hurriedly walked to our room. His hands were shaking as he fumbled with the key. I liked seeing him so excited. I took the key from him and opened the door.

In the room we wasted no time. He was the aggressor. He had me on my back, got on top of me, and pressed his lips to mine. I could feel his cage against my crotch. A few french kisses later he began to work his way down my body, undressing me as he did.

I loved the way he wanted me. My blouse off, followed by my bra. He stared at the hickeys, some fresh, others old, on my shoulders and breasts. He groaned as he put his mouth on my hard nipple. I fed him my breast, called him my baby boy, asked if it turned him on to see the marks other men left on me.

He said, "Yes," before attacking my other tit. 

He briefly stopped when he noticed what was hanging from the necklace nestled between my tits, the key to the tiny lock imprisoning his penis.

I told him his mouth felt good. He added his hands, pulling and twisting my nipples, even pinching them, kneading then caressing my breasts. 

My breathing was heavy. I felt an orgasm building.

"Yes, yes," I cried as he sucked hard on my right breast.

It had been a long time since I had achieved the big O from my breasts being played with.

I reminded myself our roles were different. He would test me and I him. He started to add his hickey to the others. As good as it felt I pushed his head away and told him, "No, you can't mark me."

He didn't protest but I could see defiance in his eyes. He put his head back down and began to kiss his way across my abdomen, dipping his tongue into my navel, undoing my pants, tugging them and my panties down. I kicked them off of my feet. 

I pulled my legs up to my chest and opened wide exposing my sex to him.

He mumbled, "You're so beautiful," before pressing his face against me. 

He began licking me. I urged him to fuck me with his tongue, to clean me of Ricky's cum. I told him how Ricky and I had fucked all night, how he had stretched me, how I needed his tongue to take away the soreness, to make me feel good.

He explored me with his fingers as he ate me. He then pushed the back of my legs up and for the first time ever I felt his mouth on my anus.

So different, heavenly, and nasty.

Minutes later his mouth was back on my vagina and then his tongue grinding on my vagina as he fucked my vagina with three fingers. I screamed, loud enough for the other guests to hear, as I orgasmed.

He stopped licking, rested his head on my pubis. We were both breathing heavy.

"That was so good Roland."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

I caressed the side of his face, ran my fingers through his hair.

"I'm ready to be eaten again, but this time go slow."

He was just as eager the second time and he went slow savoring me. I even turned over and opened my legs wide inviting him to explore my back side again. He kissed and licked my buttocks, ran his tongue down the crack of my ass, and latched onto my rose colored anus, even trying to penetrate it with his tongue, working a finger in me to loosen my sphincter. I had no idea before that day how good analingus felt, but I knew I would want it from then on.

He slipped a hand between my legs and using his thumb strummed my very hard and prominent clitoris like a guitar. Fireworks went off. I collapsed on the bed.

"Wow," I said afterwards.

He looked very pleased with himself.

I said, "It's time you got undressed."

I watched as he undressed. His appearance surprised me. He had no body hair. I mean none. It was particularly strange to see his penis without pubic hair.

He was gauging my reaction.

I didn't know if I did, but I told him, "I like it." I knew he needed me to accept him.

I told him to lay down. I explored his body with my hands and mouth. I had always liked his chest hair, but had to admit a hairless body was more fun to use my mouth on. I played with his nipples.

I got on my knees between his legs and told him to open up.

"Your balls are so swollen." I caressed them softly with my fingernails. He groaned.

"So full of cum," I told him.

I took the necklace off, used the key, and unlocked the padlock.

It took me a few minutes to remove it. Once free his penis became turgid. It was literally jerking with excitement. I purposely didn't touch it because I didn't want him to climax.

I focused on his swollen scrotum, caressing and softly kneading them.

I was tempted to straddle him and ride his manhood, but we both knew that wasn't what he craved.

I continued playing with those swollen testicles and began to tell him of my exploits beginning with Mr. Married Man, then Richard, and finally with Ricky. His penis was bobbing up and down, dripping precum, craving my touch.

I asked him if he noticed I was still fertile. He nodded yes. I reminded him I was most likely pregnant with Ricky's baby.

He answered by ejaculating weeks' worth of cum from his balls all over his hairless torso. I remembered one of his stories, scooped up the cum, and had him lick my fingers clean.

He thanked me afterwards for the second hottest sexual encounter of his life.

I asked, "What was the first?"

"Last night watching Ricky and you make a baby, then eating you while you jacked off and sucked those men, letting them cum on you. I'll never forget it."

"Good answer. You're welcome. And you're right. It was hot. I never imagined doing something so kinky. I just went with the flow. I was so aroused. Those men crowding around us with their penises out masturbating, getting closer and closer. I was oblivious to everything else but your mouth making me feel so good and all those penises. I reached out grabbed the nearest two. I opened my mouth and someone shoved their penis into my mouth."

I shivered at the memory.

"So much cum, all over my hands, in my mouth. There must have been more than three because I had cum on my legs and tits. Someone even jacked off and left a deposit on my bush. Did you see them?"

Roland answered and admitted, "All I could see when I glanced up were two hard ons. They were jacking off on either side of you. I watched them cum on you. You had orgasmed. I didn't move away because I was worried one of them might want to go in you. I was so tempted to open my mouth and suck them."

"Why didn't you?"

"I thought you'd be upset, think this is all about being gay when it's so much more than that."

I put my hands on each side of Roland's face, looked into his eyes, gently kissed him and said, "I know and I wouldn't have been upset. Thanks for not letting those men violate me. I don't want there to be any doubt on who fathered our baby."

I studied his face. He looked buzzed. I wanted to make it clear, to put to bed any doubt, our marriage and our roles had been forever altered. There was no going back.

I continued, "Roland, the real reason I didn't want those men to fuck me is the same reason you didn't suck those penises; they're not worthy. Those men are like you, cuckolds. What's between their legs is inadequate."

I reached between us. He was again erect which wasn't like him at all. He had always been one and done while I had always been ready for more. His erection confirmed I was on track with my talk. I squeezed his erection hard. My thumb grazed the tiny slit already dripping pre cum. I thought to myself he gets wet just like a girl. I smeared it over the head of his penis, caressed the underside where shaft meets head. 

He nodded in agreement.

"How do you feel knowing there is a very good chance I'm pregnant and there will be no doubt you aren't the father."

"Jeanette, excited and terrified."

I chuckled squeezing his penis, "I can tell you're excited, but seriously, what are we going to tell our families? This affects more than the two of us."

"The truth. I was a lousy husband. You had an affair because of me. We reconciled. Things are now great."

"I was going to say we were having trouble conceiving and decided to try a sperm bank. There was a mixup and I received a black man's sperm."

Roland said, "I like your explanation, but it will lead to us having to tell more lies. What sperm bank? Are we suing? If we're not, why not? I'll go with whatever you want."

His penis hadn't softened during what I thought was a serious conversation. If anything, it was more swollen. I then realized subconsciously the cuckold in him was very excited about being outed.

I caressed his member, smiled at him and said, "There's no rush. We have nine months to think of an explanation."

I changed subjects, I told him what happened with Richard, how quickly he agreed to make a baby with me and how his plan was to sweep me off my feet and convince me to end my marriage.

Roland's reaction to the news confirmed my suspicions. He spurted cum, lots of it.

"You're turned on by the idea of me falling in love with another man and leaving you."

He nodded his head saying yes. He was too embarrassed to say it.

"Roland, I get it. You're not the only one who likes playing with matches, but who will save us from us? I think we need to see a counselor, someone who can work with us so we do this intelligently."

Damn if his softening penis which I was jacking using his cum as lubricant didn't begin to harden.

He told me I was right. He said when he got back he would do some research and find a counselor. I was relieved he agreed and aroused at the idea of a cuckold marriage where I was in control, had all the freedom, especially sexual, and he had none.

I moved away from him and got on my back, "Now eat me."

He was ravenous and I was hyper aroused. In no time he had me cumming.

"That was so good," I told him, "I have an idea. After being with Richard, then Ricky I don't know if you'll ever be allowed back in my vagina. I might change my mind, but I doubt it. One thing we haven't tried is anal sex. I think I can handle you. My butt will be yours and my vagina reserved for my lovers."

He loved the idea and with several towels spread across the bed he prepared me. Of course I first made him use his mouth on my anus. He then produced a bottle of lubricant and began to loosen me up. One finger, then two. I would like to say our first time was a success, but he came as he entered me. I know I sounded disappointed. He apologized. I pushed his head down and told him he could make amends by cleaning my asshole.

His tongue felt wonderful as I was so open. Adding to my excitement was him cleaning up his cum. I masturbated as he licked.

Our second attempt later that day went much better. He actually lasted a long time. We started out missionary, took a break, he pulled out, changed to doggy, and ended with me flat on the bed, legs open wide, him on top of me. I liked the weight of his body on me.

Like the first time I insisted he use his mouth on me afterwards. He actually made me have a very strong orgasm his mouth never straying from my bottom.

We left the hotel, had a wonderful dinner at a small intimate restaurant, finished off one bottle of wine and brought a second one back to the room which we drank. Feeling very good we got in bed, more intent on cuddling than sex.

The cuddling led to cunnilingus for me and masturbation for him. I did a lot of talking while he licked me and afterwards when he jacked off telling him he was my cuckold, his penis unsatisfactory, my satisfaction with Richard and Ricky's very big cocks, my vagina was off limits, and of course what I hoped was a successful impregnation by Ricky.

More cuddling followed. I was exhausted and so was he. Before drifting off I told him, "Look at us. We're behaving like newlyweds. When was the last time you came four times in one day? And me, I've never had so many orgasms. If I had known this was the key to unlocking your libido I would have cuckolded you years ago."



Roman Holiday Ch. 10



I surprised Roland, but in a good way as I affixed the chastity device to his penis before heading to the airport. His penis didn't cooperate as it kept trying to harden. I told Roland, "This isn't working. Wait here. I'm going to get a bucket of ice from the ice machine."

The ice did the trick. In a few minutes his penis and scrotum were cold and small. Roland instructed me on how to put it all together. I took the tiny padlock and closed it.

"That will keep you out of trouble," I teased.

He actually thanked me which I thought was really sweet.

Our days together had been great, but the itch between my legs needed scratching. Cunnilingus, analingus, even anal intercourse were fine, but I craved a good fucking from a man with a big cock.

I also had some unfinished business. I didn't want Roland to lose his job or for Richard to make his life so miserable he quit. I needed to make amends and, like Roland, I was drawn to the flame. 

"Roland, when Ricky is in town he's going to be spending alot of time in our house. The only problem is I won't be able to see Ricky as often as I need to. I'm just thinking out loud so if you think I'm crazy tell me. How would you feel if I called Richard? He and I didn't part on the best of terms. In fact, it was a bit ugly, but he is your boss. I'd like at least one of us to be on his good side."

I looked at Roland whose eyes were focused on the road. He looked pale. He didn't look at me for what seemed an eternity.

I wondered if I had pushed him too hard. I also noticed I was very wet and my nipples super hard. He squirmed as though something were pinching him.

I immediately knew what the problem was, "Cage feeling too tight?"

"Killing me," he answered.

"I guess I have my answer."

He looked at me and smiled, "I guess you do. Go ahead and call Richard. I'll be home in a week, maybe two. I'm sure you and he can work things out. Are you going to tell him about Ricky?"

"He doesn't need to know. It will be better if he doesn't know for now. The news will hurt him which isn't my intent. He was really looking forward to knocking me up. If it works out with him I'll tell him next time."

"And if it doesn't?" Roland asked.

"We'll move on. I'll find another lover who understands and appreciates the dynamics of our marriage."

"Sounds like you've given this a lot of thought."

"Believe me, Roland, I have. I never thought I'd sleep with other men after I got married, but now that I have I don't want to stop. I just don't want it to ruin our marriage. Like you, I want to push the envelope, but not crash. Richard does complicate things because one, he is your boss, two his attraction to me is both emotional and physical, three, I'm very attracted to him and four, sex with him was very, very good. When I was with Ricky I found myself thinking about Richard and Ricky's no slouch as a man or lover. He is all eye candy and so smooth. He knows how to talk to women, to make them melt, and he is very good in bed."

I continued, "Ricky is good for making a baby with and I'm not going to turn him away when he visits, but long term I want stability and emotional commitment from my lover and that's what I think Richard will give me."

We got to the airport. He escorted me as far as he could. We exchanged a short kiss and a tight hug. I could feel his cage against my pubis.

He said, "I love you."

I answered, "I know and I love you too. I hope what I said in the car didn't hurt you too much. I was just trying to be honest."

He wiped back a tear, "It did hurt, but it's what I want too"

I smiled at him, kissed him on the bridge of his nose and said, "Love can be such a bitch, even worse when her name is Jeanette and she's your wife."

I got a chuckle out of him. We parted ways on a good note.

On the flight I thought about the craziness of the past few weeks and how I'd come to embrace it. Just thinking about the events at the theater made me wet. I had never experienced anything so erotic. It was animalistic and primitive. Ricky hadn't just fucked me. He had bred me, sired me with his seed. We weren't drawn together out of love, but biology. He possessed genes superior to my husband. All three of us knew it, accepted it, and that's why my husband held my hand as Ricky and I mated.

The sex afterwards was very good, but it was also insurance. I wanted Ricky to make as many deposits in the short time we had together. Each time he fucked me he reminded me I was fertile, he wasn't using a condom, I wasn't on birth control, and he was going to make my belly swell and give me a beautiful black baby. His cock was doing a fine job of making me feel good, but the talk is what elevated my orgasms from a nine to a ten. 

He drove me crazy to the point I babbled saying things I would normally not even think. It was coarse and racially charged. It was all about the taboo. In cuckolding Roland I had broken one taboo and I was breaking two more by having sex with Ricky, I a white woman and he a black man, and the biggest of all making a baby with him. I didn't need to wear a scarlet letter. One look at our baby and my husband and everyone would know he wasn't the father. Ultimate shame and humiliation for him, but also the biggest turn on.

No sooner was I home than one of my neighbors rang the doorbell. Just when I thought my life couldn't get crazier it did. 

I looked through the peephole. It was my neighbor, Frank. He was in his mid 50s, married to a nice woman, Linda. Their kids were grown and out of the house. Frank and Linda were opposites. She was reserved, petite like me, narrow hips, small breasts. Pretty, short black hair with strands of silver. He was tall, broad shouldered, built more like Richard, but heavier. Dark eyes, grey hair he dyed black, ex jock, fancied himself a lady's man, arrogant, menacing, lecherous, pushy, and loud. Attributes he possessed I would hate for Roland to have, but in him I found appealing.

We didn't really socialize with them save for several times a year when our street had a block party or the subdivision had its annual holiday party at the clubhouse or when Roland, who was mechanically inept, knocked on Frank's door to ask for help with something he couldn't make work, be it the lawnmower, car, garage door, toilet, furnace, air conditioner, or kitchen appliances.

There wasn't much Frank couldn't fix. He played football when he was younger, been in the Navy before he married Linda and didn't really understand men like Roland who was a nonathlete, nonveteran, and mechanically inept. Roland was, however, teachable, and Frank had taught Roland, usually with lots of sarcasm, how to repair things.

Around Linda he was very bossy, very possessive, and demanding. He liked being waited on. She seemed accepting of her fate. I wouldn't have tolerated such behavior from Roland, but when Frank was at our house I found myself catering to him. He had a forceful personality. He was an asshole, but charming.

He was also a lech. He had undressed me with his eyes more than once, made inappropriate comments about my body, touched me when there was no need to, but he had never crossed the line. He excited and repulsed me. I didn't fantasize about him, but I did like knowing he found me sexually attractive. Even before I knew of Roland's fantasies I would give Frank the benefit of the doubt when he belittled poor Roland over not being manly enough.

Roland didn't seem to mind being the brunt of Frank's jokes. I found myself laughing when Frank pointed out one of Roland's shortcomings as a man, be it the difference in screwdrivers, to hammering a nail, to tuning up a car. I wasn't as handy as Frank but I possessed ten times the knowledge of Roland. It was funny and sweet to see Roland trying so hard.

I opened the door.

"Hi Frank,".

His grin was wolfish, "Hello, Jeanette. Mind if I come in?"

He pushed his way in.

I hadn't noticed before but he had one arm behind his back. He took it from behind his back and thrust a bouquet of flowers into my face.

"FTD left them."

Before I could say anything he said, "And they're not from Roland."

I played dumb without much success, "They're not?"

He got closer and more menacing, backing me against the wall. He looked angry. 

"Are you fucking around on Roland? Who is this Richard?"

I guess I looked guilty.

I nodded yes and answered, "Roland's boss. You won't tell him will you?"

I immediately discovered he wasn't mad. He just wanted in on the action and he finally had some leverage. I could have nipped it in the bud and told him the truth, that Roland knew, but I didn't. Something inside of me wanted to see what he would do. 

The foyer seemed small and hot.

He put one hand on the wall. He took the other and stroked the side of my face. I didn't flinch. I didn't feel fear, but excited. Cornered, he was staring at me, his dark eyes burning holes into my blue ones. His hand caressed my neck and began toying with my necklace. He pulled on it.

"What the fuck is this?"

Caught I thought and answered, "A key."

He toyed with the key which looked really tiny in his big fingers.

"What's it go to, the world's smallest lock?"

I laughed, "You could say that."

"Seriously, what does it unlock?"

I met his stare, "Roland's cage."

"His what?"

"His cage. I keep his penis locked up to keep him from being bad."

He stared at me and the key.

"Jeanette, I've heard about people like you."

I asked somewhat shocked, "You have?"

My back pinned to the wall, my arms at my sides, the bouquet dangling from one hand I offered no resistance. My chest was heaving. My breasts felt enormous.

He took his hand off the wall and the other off my necklace and placed them on my breasts which he squeezed.

"I have. You're a slut. He's a wimp."

I let out a loud groan and answered, "I am and he is."

"And I'm going to fuck you."

I didn't protest as he took me by the hand and led me to the master bedroom where he immediately began disrobing. He had a hairy chest, belly, and back, a gut from too much food and beer, but it was his engorged cock that made him a keeper.

When it sprang into view i thought, "My God it's huge." I immediately wanted it in me.

I hurriedly undressed, pulled back the covers and laid down. He joined me and before we had even exchanged our first kiss he and I guided his manhood into me.

"Heaven," I thought as he filled me.

He pinned me to the bed as he drilled in and out of my pussy. He quickly had me begging for more, knocking the air out of me with his belly with each thrust of his cock. I felt smothered. His chest wasn't toned, the muscle flabby. I sucked one of his hairy nipples.

He groaned but warned me not to bite it. I wanted to rake his back with my nails but I remembered his wife.

He called me whore, slut, tramp, cheat and Roland wimp, pussy, and cuck. He said he now owned my pussy, asked me 'who's your daddy?', said he was going to wear my pussy out. Everything he said was kerosene poured onto the fire in my vagina. I yelled out God and begged him not to stop as my first orgasm hit me. I felt my pussy open up and he responded by thrusting even harder and faster.

I couldn't get a break between orgasms. One built on the other. He announced he was about to cum and asked where I wanted it, my pussy or my face. I nearly shouted, "My pussy. Fill my pussy."

And he did thrusting deep and holding it there as his cock spasmed and emptied his seed into me. After he came he gently fucked me as his cock softened. When he pulled out a few minutes later my vagina made a slurping sound as we broke the seal joining us. I felt permanently stretched.

He lay down beside me. I rolled on my side to face him.

"Wow, Frank, that was incredible."

We kissed. 

"Can we do it again?" I asked feeling completely smitten.

He chuckled knowing he had me addicted to his cock.

I caressed his wet and soft manhood before working my way down. I wouldn't even attempt to suck it while it was erect, but soft it was enjoyable to use my mouth on. He reminded me he needed time as he wasn't young. I told him I didn't care. 

As I used my mouth on him he described in graphic detail what he intended to do with me and how he expected our relationship to play out. I was to make myself available whenever he had the urge. He told me since Richard was my husband's boss I could keep spreading my legs for him, but intercourse with Roland was out.

"None of your husband's wimpy cum in my pussy."

I didn't object as I had already decided that back in Rome. I answered, "Okay."

I noticed how he took ownership of my pussy claiming it as his.

I don't know how long it took as I was really enjoying breathing life into his cock, but he got erect relegating my mouth to licking the length of its shaft like the world's biggest popsicle.

I asked, "Can I ride you?"

He rolled onto his back and I straddled him, using one hand to guide him into me.

My tits he had ignored earlier were now his focus. 

He expertly played with them. For some reason with him rougher was better. He noticed the hickeys.

"Roland or Richard?"

"Richard," I gasped feeling out of breath from my arousal and being on top doing all the work. 

He smiled and had me lower my breasts to his mouth. He left bite marks where Richard had left hickeys. My tits ached but in a delicious way. 

I orgasmed. He grabbed me by the hips and picked me up and dropped me down his shaft. It was less like fucking and more like he was jacking off into my vagina. He moved me up and down faster and faster. I did my best to assist him, had another O, and finally felt him swell and get even stiffer. He pulled me down. I felt like his cock was in my uterus making a direct deposit.

Shortly afterwards he dressed. I walked him to the door and watched as he walked back to his house. I picked up from the floor the flowers I had dropped. The bouquet was pretty. I put the flowers in a vase of water.

I wondered where the card was and decided it must be in Frank's possession. 

I took a shower. My tits looked awful and my vagina and vulva felt raw and swollen. I hummed 'Love hurts' as I ministered to my wounds. My aches I saw as symbols of pride, a small price to pay for the sexual bliss I had experienced.

I decided to not reach out and contact Richard, but would ask Frank for the note when I next saw him. I also decided to not tell Roland about Frank. I would spring the news on him at a later date.

Roland called after I was in bed. It was a short but pleasant conversation. He was obviously on cloud nine as was I. The days spent with him had been like a honeymoon. I felt very loved and very much in love, but I also recognized the dynamics of our marriage had been forever altered. Instead of Roland, I called him C or cuck. He obviously liked his new name as it went with his new status. He was my cuckold, in charge of nothing while I was his wife in charge of everything.

I didn't see Frank until Friday when he showed up at my door announcing Linda was gone for the evening. I let him in. Within minutes we were naked and he was fucking me doggy style, mauling my tits, pulling my hair, and spanking my ass. He had unlocked my inner masochist. The orgasms I had with him left me satisfied and exhausted. He had me hooked on him. 

My ass fascinated him. He told me his wife had a flat ass which wasn't true, but mine was round, firm, and attatched to a woman several decades younger than his wife. He asked about Richard as he rubbed my buttocks. I told him I hadn't contacted Richard because I was conflicted and because I hadn't read his card.

He feigned forgetfulness. He was wearing a different pair of slacks since the last time I saw him so when he directed me to look in the back pocket of his slacks I knew he had purposely withheld it the previous Sunday. I must have looked too eager. 

I opened it and read it. Richard apologized, wanted a second chance, said he had been out of line, would respect my marriage, but admitted it would be tough because he had feelings for me.

Frank didn't ask because he knew what Richard had written. He looked a bit irritated. Richard, not Roland, was his competition. 

"Come here," he said as he motioned with his finger.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed legs open wide. His cock dangled between his legs.

"Kneel."

I dropped to my knees and began to use my mouth on him. 

"You're fond of my cock aren't you? Can't get enough? Do you trust me?"

I took my mouth off of him long enough to answer, "Yes, Never, Yes."

"My advice to you is stay away from Richard. He's bad news. He's telling you what you want to hear. He is going to drive a wedge between you and Roland."

I smiled at him, "And you're not?"

He looked very serious, "No, you're a slut. Why would I want something long term with a slut? I'll fuck you until you bore me or I find another slut."

I backed away from his cock which was now slick with my spit and hard. It stuck straight out, too heavy to stick up. The knob was the color of a plum, the shaft cinammon. 

"Pretty harsh," I said before standing up, grabbing hold of his wand, and rubbing the head of it against my slit. He pulled me close. We kissed. He lifted me up and impaled me on his cock. So full and stretched. His cock I thought was perfection.

He looked at me, "Not harsh, honest. You're safe with me."

I pushed him back and began to slowly ride him, "What if I don't want safe?"

"You may not want safe, but you'll want freedom. Richard will keep a tight leash on you."

"And you won't?" my breathing a little more labored, my excitement building.

"No, I won't. A slut is what a slut is."

"I wasn't always a slut Frank," I protested.

"Yes you were. You just didn't know it."

I was lifting myself high and dropping down the length of his man meat.

"I like this conversation. It's arousing."

He laughed, "See. Only a slut like you would find this arousing."

I ignored him, but he was right. My focus now was on climaxing. I rode him harder, told him to play with my tits which he had been ignoring.

I came. I could feel my wetness on his lower abdomen. I rested my head on his very hairy, very broad, and soft chest, so different from Richard's chiseled and uncomfortable one. Frank's made for a nice pillow.

He hadn't climaxed. He remained hard. I loved the feel of his big cock in me. I also loved being in the arms of a man my father's age. On some level I did trust him.

"Jeanette, I can give you what you need."

I wasn't looking at him, "And what do I need Frank besides a big cock?"

"A firm hand."

My ass that he found so fascinating he slapped. It didn't hurt so much as it startled me. It left me feeling warm.

He spanked me again, harder and continued to spank me as I lay impaled on him. I couldn't get up because he used his other arm to hold me. 

I began to groan. The pain was turning me on, not off. Twenty swats in I climaxed. He flipped me over and now I was on the bottom and he was driving in and out of me like a pile driver. The orgasm I had just had never really ended but flowed into an even stronger one.

He grunted and came.

We cuddled on the bed. I got up and brought us both beers and some snacks as the sex had left me famished.

I joined him back on the bed. I snuggled up to him, told him what he had done had been very hot. I played with his soft penis which was still longer and wider than Roland's when he was hard.

I thanked him for the advice, even if it was unsolicited.

"Jeanette, you don't have to thank me. This isn't my first rodeo. I've seen this before."

"You have?"

"Yes, women have a tougher time than men separating the sex from the emotion. There are men who have the same difficulty."

"And you don't?"

"Nope, I'll leave here and when Linda comes home make love to her. And when I get the itch and know you're ready to have that same itch scratched I'll pay you a visit. Richard wants more. I already have a wife, kids and grandkids. This is recreation."




Roman Holiday Ch. 10



"You make it sound so easy."

"It is. Think of us as fuck buddies."

We finished our beers and snacks. He dressed. I walked him to the door. Before opening it we exchanged a long french kiss. I was half tempted to drag him back to my bedroom.

My ass still stung, but in a very delicious way. I climbed into bed feeling satisfied and secure. Frank was a prick and a cheat, but his fatherly ways were comforting. I fell asleep.



Roman Holiday Ch. 11



I didn't follow Frank's advice. Richard called and said he wanted to see me, asked if I had gotten the flowers and his note, asked what I thought of them.

I told him I loved the flowers and appreciated the note. 

He asked if he was forgiven and if we could start over.

I said yes and asked what he had in mind.

He asked me out on a date.

I said we needed to be discrete, but told him yes.

I got off the phone with him and shared the news with Roland who took it very well. 

While I appreciated having Frank as a no strings attached fuck buddy I wanted more. I wanted to be wined, dined, romanced, and bedded. I wanted to have my heart tugged in two directions. I wanted to push Roland to the brink and be right beside him.

Our date was perfect. He was an excellent conversationalist and easy to open up to. He knew a lot about food and wine. He was a good dancer. We ended up at his house, made love several times, and I fell asleep in his arms.

The morning after wasn't.

He was still jealous, possessive Richard.

In the light of day he noticed the bite marks and the bruises on my buttocks. He was angry to the point of being scary. 

He asked where I got them.

I told him the truth and since he wanted full disclosure the even bigger news, about my trip to Rome, Ricky, the theater, and being bred.

He said after slamming his fist on the vanity, "Don't you have any self respect? You really are a slut."

I didn't protest his accusation or when he dragged me back into the bedroom, threw me onto the bed, and savaged my poor pussy with his big cock. The passion in him had me dripping. It was one of the best sexual encounters of my life. I scratched his back, hooked my legs around his buttocks, and begged him to pump harder. He filled me whatever cum was left in him after our night together. 

I orgasmed and out of nowhere told him, "I love you."

He pulled out, collapsed beside me, and told me, "I love you too but I can't do this."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both. I had just convinced myself I could share you with Roland, but sharing you with other men is a deal breaker. And to find out you might be pregnant by one of them is too much."

I caressed his chest. He really did have a nice body, not as nice as Ricky's, but he was a lot older than Ricky. Their builds were different. Ricky was lean, Richard was big. 

"Richard, I can't change the past but you have to know you are partly to blame."

"I know and it's killing me. I should have gone with you to Rome."

"No, it's best you didn't. I was meant to be with Ricky. I don't know why, but I was."

I then explained telling him about Jan and how Ricky fit into all this. I explained fate had brought Ricky and I together for the purpose of conceiving. I asked if he was good at math because he looked skeptical. He assured me he excelled at math. I told him to crunch the numbers. What were the odds of me running into Ricky that day? We both knew they were small. I had better chances to win the lottery.

He was a good listener and by the time I was through talking he was calmer, more accepting. He did ask why if fate had brought Ricky and I together for the purpose of conceiving why was he to partly blame.

I smiled, "Because you bought the tickets. No tickets, no Ricky."

"What are the three of us going to do about it?" he asked.

"The three of us?" I answered, "I thought you were over me."

With conviction in his voice he said, "Yes, the three of us, Roland, you, and I."

I put my arms around his neck and kissed him, "Does that mean you'll respect my marriage?"

He kissed back, "I'll respect it, but that doesn't mean I won't keep trying to sweep you off your feet, to prove to you I'm the better man."

Our kiss got hotter, longer and with tongue added in.

I cooed, "You've already proven you're a better lover than Roland. You're also more successful, handsome, stronger, and hung than him. It was a year before I told him I love him. With you it took only two weeks."

He rolled me onto my back. We were through talking. I opened my legs. I was so wet. Without much effort he slid his cock all the way into me.

"For such a small woman you have a very accomodating vagina."

"Are you complaining?" I teased.

"Not at all. I'm impressed."

"Shut up then and fuck me."

And fuck me he did.

Richard later asked about Frank. I told him when Frank got the itch I would let him scratch it. The same was true for Ricky. Should he ever be in town I was going to share my bed with him.

"Is there any man you wouldn't let fuck you?"

"Roland," I answered.

He liked my answer. He even expressed sympathy for his subordinate, my husband, "Poor Roland, what a schmuck."

"Not poor Roland. This is what he wanted. He's living the dream. Don't try to understand him. Just enjoy the ride. At first I was so angry and hurt, but once I accepted and embraced it I don't think I could have a vanilla, monogamous, marriage. Cuckolding him is such a small part of what I have with him. It's the freedom to do what I want, with whom I want, when I want and being the boss that I really like."

He responded, "I don't have a chance do I."

"To sweep me off my feet and end my marriage? Probably not, but you can have fun trying. I just don't think I'm the kind of woman you want as a wife."

He cautioned me, "Don't be so sure. You're like a wild stallion. I could train you."

"Train me or break me? You're drawn to my independence just like Roland is. For you it makes you want to dominate me. For him, to submit to."

He mulled over my words. We were at my house. I got out of the car, came over to his window which he had rolled down, and in front of anyone who might have been outside, kissed him.

"Call me," I said.

He smiled, "And if I don't."

I turned, walked away, looked back over my shoulder, lifted the back of my dress exposing my ass and said, "If you want more of this you will."

He was laughing at my craziness as he backed out of the drive.

I was happy and very proud of myself. Instead of being eaten by the lion I had tamed him.