Cuckold: Three Stories of Cuckoldry and Hot Wives (Cuckold Humiliation Hotwife Size Queen Cheating Erotic Romance Bundle)
Authors: C. C. Madison
Cuckold
Three Stories of Cuckoldry and Hot Wives
By C. C. Madison
All Rights Reserved:
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use and cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law.
This book is intended for adult audiences only. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers, though hopefully titillating by most.
All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older
. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Photo Credit: Tankist276, PhotoCD
Cover Design: C. C. Madison
Cuckold: Three Stories of Cuckoldry and Hot Wives © 2015 C. C. Madison
All rights reserved
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The Cuckold’s Hot Wife: Her First Time
*****
She’s late, and I already know why. With her phone off, without a word, without a even a quick text, I know.
The dinner I cooked is cooling on the table in front of me; the dinner that I know I told her I was making for us, a special for tonight. I reach for my phone to try calling again, but stop short, my hand hesitating, shaking slightly, before dropping back to my lap.
I know why.
I wonder who he is; someone from work, or from the gym? How does she know him? Does she even at all, or is it perhaps a total stranger this time? My hands fidget on my lap, nails picking at cuticles, feeling my chest rise and fall heavily with the machinations of my mind.
Is he taller than me? In better shape? Probably; and I don’t even have to wonder if he’s bigger than me, because I know he must be.
Like the last time. The last time, when she came home flushed and breathless, an energy and a vibrancy in her eyes that I hadn’t seen in almost a decade of marriage. That time, she’d barely come through the door before she’s mashed her lips to mine
I could taste him, clearly, on her lips. A calling card; a lingering mark of her dalliance giving her puffed and red lips an added shine, her breath a new dimension. There’d been a fire there, when she’d seen the look of shock and unease on my face at tasting another man on her breath. Again, that urgent and hungry look that I’d been unable to give her for some time now.
She’d let her clothes fall, right there in the living room. Her shirt shrugged off her shoulders, her breasts bra-less.
She’d made me pull her panties down, and I swear she’d shuddered when I’d gasped at what doing so had revealed. They’d been soaked, sodden with her juices
clearly
mixed with his. A lingering mark of another man, leaking copiously out of my wife’s most private place to soil her panties. Her lips, waxed completely clean that time and the first time I’d ever seen, had been swollen and red; red to match the pink marks and bruises on her inner thighs where he’d pressed against her, where his skin had marked her’s as he’d fucked her. As he’d fucked my wife.
I’d had no words, only shame mixed with a heady, exciting, drug-like arousal that gripped me furiously. My eyes had been glued to her puffy, sticky pussy lips, still leaking his cum. I’d watched it drip slowly in long, stringy drips down from her well-fucked hole to the sodden panties pulled halfway down her thighs.
I’d felt her shudder as I knelt in front of her, breathless and eyes fixated on the brazen evidence of her experience; of her sexual experience, without me. I’d felt her hands on my head, gripping my hair as she quivered standing before my stricken and barely breathing face. She’d said nothing in the heavy silence of the room, but the urgency in her grip, the ever so slight pulling of my head towards her, said it all.
I don’t know why, or how it happened then. That part was nothing we’d ever talked about, nothing either of us had ever even imagined. But there I was, on my knees, letting her pull my mouth to her cum-soaked pussy, dripping the seed of another man.
*****
I can hear the garage door opening, the familiar sound of her car. I tense my jaw, a cold and yet charging feeling racing through my veins. Now; now my burning questions will have their answers.
The side door opening is a familiar sound, as is the metallic clank of her keys hitting the tray by the door; all routine, all normal. Knowing where she’s been, and what she’s been doing, and what is probably leaking and dribbling out of her pussy at this very moment though, is new.
“Honey?”
I swallow heavily, my hands still fidgeting on my lap while my heart hammers in my chest. My cock is rock hard.
“I’m..I’m in here.” My voice quavers, cracks slightly. The warm flood of shame and excitement creeps into my face.
She enters, dropping her purse on the chair by the door and stopping in the doorframe. I close my eyes and swallow once more, before I slowly open them and raise them to meet hers.
Her hair is a mess; tousled and wild, and hastily tied back from her face. Her usually pristine and exquisitely applied makeup is everything but; her eye shadow heavier than normal and smudged, her lipstick smeared across her lips. But it’s that look in her eyes - that wild, vivacious and hungry look - that bores into me, making my heart flip flop and my stomach clench.
“Oh-” She starts, her eyes quickly flitting across the tabletop filled with cold dinner between us. “I, uh, forgot.” She gives me a quick and distantly apologetic look; as if this were any old name, as if she was stuck in traffic.
“Thats ok.” My voice feels strained, forced. I can barely hear my own words with the heavy thumping of my pulse in my ears.
“I just got...I got caught up with…” She trails off, her wild and lusty eyes sweeping back up to stare into mine, making me feel small.
“Sorry.” She doesn’t look it.
“No, no its ok.” The questions feel dammed up behind my lips, jumbling over each other and threatening to tumble out all at once in one huge unintelligible vomit.
“I can heat it up.” She looks at me again; is that pity in her eyes? I let my eyes drop over her, noticing the wrinkles in her blouse, the missing button, the way her full and perky chest rises and falls heavily, like she’s just climbed stairs.
I can feel the tension rising, the questions clamoring for release as she casually acts as though this were any normal night.
“I...where…” They are starting to tumble now, the words, the questions cracking through the damn, slipping past my mouth.
Suddenly, she’s grinning at me; a wicked, knowing smile on her face, a fire in her eyes.
“You want to know where I was, don’t you.” She says it coolly, without question, and with a smirking humor in her voice.
“Yes!” I practically yell it. The blood roars in my ears with my barely contained excitement, and my erection strains at the front of my pants.
She only smiles at me; she’s going to draw it out this time.
“I bet you want to know everything, don’t you baby?” She’s biting at her bottom lip as her mouth curls into a cheshire grin. God, I can picture her with that same look as she lets her panties drop for whoever she was with.
“Oh, God yes baby!” I’m begging; of course I’m begging..
Her eyes are fire as they stare into mine, and she slowly begins to unbutton her cardigan. She shrugs, letting it fall to the floor.
“What do you want to know?” She winks at me.
“Everything!” My cock is painfully erect within my pants, and I realize my fingers are gripping the edge of the dining room table with white knuckles as I hang on her every word.
She tsk-tsks at me, shaking her head and wagging a finger. “Uh uh, honey. One question answered at a time. Her cheeks are flushed, her wild, tousled hair framing her face.
“Who-”
“Josh, from work.” She finishes for me.
I feel the floor drop from my feet, my stomach flipping. Josh! She works with him! I’d
met
him! The guy is a stud; tall, big shoulders, arms like a quarterback. I remember meeting him at her office Christmas party. He’d shook my hand and made a joke about my lack-luster grip. The hoard of women around him, my wife included, had laughed at the joke as I’d turned red and tried in complete vain to come back with something, anything; finding only mumbles.
He’d bragged to me later that night while both of us were at the urinals about fucking his eighteen year old secretary. He’d clapped me on the shoulder as I tried to force piss through my clenched bladder, totally gun-shy after hearing his powerful stream only moments before thundering into the porcelain next to me.
“Good luck there, little guy.” He’d said with a laugh, before leaving me to grit my teeth and vainly try to loosen my bladder.
“Yes, honey, you’ve met him.”
She starts to walk towards my chair from the dining room doorway.
“It was in the parking garage, after work.” She’s moving slowly towards me now as she undoes one button at a time at the front of her wrinkled and creased blouse.
“He was helping me carry some files to the car, dear. And he’s so charming.” She pauses at her blouse and grins at me; “Well,
you
know that, you’ve met him.” Her fingers undo another button.
“Well anyways, he’s always so flirty with me - oh, have I mentioned that? - Yes, he’s always
very
affectionate, very flirtatious with me. Anyways, we were alone in the parking lot, and he was behind me as I bent over to put the files in the trunk, and before I knew it, his hand was on my ass!”
Blood roars in my face, in my whole body as the thought of this man, this big alpha bull who I’ve met putting his hand on my wife. She’s standing right next to me now, and shrugging her blouse off her shoulders. I realize how rapidly I’m breathing now, hanging on her words.
“Well, I knew I
should
be mad, honey; I knew I should tell no, that I’m married, but…” She trails off as her fingers trail over the perfect skin at her hips, reaching back to unclasp her bra.
“But really, I
wanted
his hand there. I
wanted
a big stud of a man to want me so badly he’d lay his hands on me, even
knowing
I was another man’s.”
Her bra comes loose and tumbles off her shoulders. Her dark and erect rosy nipples flash into view, and I draw a sharp breath of air; he’s left marks. Bruised bites and flushed red hickies from another man’s mouth cover my wife’s perfect breasts.
“So instead, I turned and I kissed him, honey.” Her fingers trail over her breasts, over his love bites there as she talks. Her face is flushed and her she has a glow about her; the glow of being freshly fucked senseless by another man.
She looks down at my lap with a smirk. “You can take it out, baby.”
My hands are still deadlocked on the tabletop. In a flash, they’re tearing at my belt and zipper.
She chuckles “Always in
such
a hurry…”
Crimson floods my cheeks, and I slow in my manic pulling at my zipper. She shakes her head and looks at me like I’m some sort of disobedient child.
“Well anyways, we made out like teenagers honey. His mouth was all over my neck, and his big, strong hands felt so good on my body! God he’s so strong! Before I knew it, he had me against the side of the car with my shirt and my bra off.”
My zipper is down and my hand is inside, fishing for my painfully hard little cock.
“I could feel his huge cock pressing into me through his pants, and - oh, baby - I just
had
to have it; he felt so big!” She’s moaning slightly now as her fingers find the zipper at the side of her skirt and begin to tug it down.