Cuckold: Three Stories of Cuckoldry and Hot Wives (Cuckold Humiliation Hotwife Size Queen Cheating Erotic Romance Bundle) (5 page)

When her eyes fly open and a deep, guttural moan escapes her lips, I know he’s squeezed the head past her tight ring. I exhale slowly, not even realizing I’ve been holding my own breath while watching him slowly squeeze the head in.

He slides forward, slickly on my spittle. And then he’s fucking her tight, buttery ass with deep, even and plowing strokes, burying himself all the way on every stroke. His balls come to rest on her dripping pussy lips and Kelly cries out in orgasmic little mewling sounds that she’s never made around me every time he does.

I know I deserve this; I know we’re here in this utterly
humiliating
situation because I’ve got cursed jeans and I’m a shitty husband. And lest we forget, because I agreed, no, I
offered
my wife up in exchange for a chance at a promotion.

But, thank God, if for nothing else, there’s that. I’m still not sure if its
worth
it, per say, watching my beautiful wife get fucked up the ass by my boss’s huge cock with
hopes
of a promotion at the end, but its at least keeping me sane while this goes on right next to me.

Kelly is really getting into it now, and she's thrusting back hard onto his cock.
 

“Oh
fuck
yes! Fuck that slutty married ass Jackson! Take my ass! Make it your own with that big fat cock of yours! Use it! Use
me
anytime you want! My ass belongs to you and you alone!”

My jaw drops at the utter
filth
pouring out of my wife’s, my partner’s, mouth! I’m shocked and still totally humiliated, but at the same time I’m
completely
turned on! My little cock is rock hard in my pants! I long to touch it, to pull my pants down and just jerk it, even for a minute. But I know thats over the edge; thats the humiliation I won’t be able to take: jerking off watching my wife get ass-fucked. Its just too much.

Mr. Stone starts to hammer Kelly’s ass with wild, pounding strokes. His balls are slapping and bouncing heavily off her pussy, her breasts bouncing wilding beneath her. And suddenly, she's; coming,
hard
.

She shrieks, and her eyes actually
roll back in her head
as her climax tears through her. In ten fucking years of marriage, I have
never
, and I mean fucking
NEVER
seen anything remotely like this from my wife.
 

She thrashes under his anal assault, and I can actually see clear fluid dribbling copiously from her pussy, running down her legs to soak the sheets beneath them. Jesus Christ, he’s making her squirt from this!

He slowly winds down his deep thrusting at Kelly’s ass as she slowly comes down. And then he’s pulling out and rolling her over, stroking himself.

“Weston, I think you should probably watch this next bit.” He says with a smirk. He’s moving up the bed on the other side of my wife from me, stroking his throbbing and huge cock. It’s red and slick and wet looking from her ass, and he moves close to her head.

Oh sweet Jesus, she’s not actually going t-

Oh, but she does. Without missing a beat, my sweet, beautiful wife is opening up her lips,
craning her head upwards
and sucking my boss’s cock,
straight from her ass right into her mouth!

My eyes about jump out of my head as she moans like a total slut, taking his cock right from her slutty little ass right into her mouth. Mr. Stone is throwing his head back and groaning loudly as she gags on his cock.
 

Suddenly, he looks right at me, catching my eye with his hard look. I can tell he’s close, that my boss is about to cum right in my wife’s mouth.

“Oh, and Weston?” He’s gritting his jaw as he looks at me smugly.

“There is no promotion, I’m not sure who started that rumor.”

My vision goes black at the corners, and just as the floor starts to drop out from beneath me, I suddenly see Kelly's lips and throat start sucking hard as I hear Jackson Stone grunt loudly.

My boss is coming, right in my wife’s mouth.

With a yell, he pulls his pulsing cock from her hungry lips and starts fisting the thick huge length of it. Huge white jets of cum squirt from his flaring red cockhead and and come dropping own heavily on Kelly’s upturned face. Pump after pump, more cum rockets from his throbbing cock and splatter down, covering my wife’s face. She’s moaning, her fingers buried in her pussy as his cum lands in thick streaks across her nose and forehead, covering her lips and cheeks, and splatter over her outstretched and needy tongue.

And just like that, my cuckold humiliation is complete.

*****

I sleep downstairs on the couch that night, after Mr. Stone kicks me out of the bedroom.

“I’ve been drinking, Weston, I’m not going to drive! That’s no way to let a guest leave your home!” He says this to me in the doorway Kelly and I’s bedroom, before closing the door in my face. Downstairs, I masturbate quietly and furiously, and I fall asleep to the sound of my wife’s wails of pleasure as my boss fucks her senseless long into the morning hours.

*****

I’m groggy at work on Monday morning, since Kelly has denied me access to my own bedroom since the dinner with Mr. Stone. In fact, she’s didn’t even really talk to me much the rest of the weekend after that night, except to point out a few chores around the house for me to do, and when to start dinner.

The intercom blinks on my phone, and I answer it hastily.

“Yes?”

“Now Weston, lets hear a little more pep in that voice!” It’s Mr. Stone.

“Weston, your wife has just arrived in my office.” I feel a cold, excited chill grip my gut. I can hear Mr. Stone groan a bit over the phone, and then chuckle.

“Why don’t you come watch. Oh and Weston,” he pauses, and I can practically hear the smirk through the phone.

“Bring that tongue of yours; we’re going to need it.”

The End

The Cuckold’s Hot Wife: With The Delivery Men

*****

I look at the clock for the 4th time in as many minutes; it’s almost time. My heart feels leaden in my chest; this is really about to happen.

She’s just gotten out of the shower, and she looks fucking gorgeous; the same sexy and vivacious woman I married almost ten years ago. Her skin is glowing from the heat of the water as she steps into our bedroom, wrapping the terry-cloth robe around her perfect, flawless body. Her breasts are just as high and full as they were the day I met her more than a decade before. Her curves are more pronounced, more full, and yet that makes her even more sensual.

A part of me goes numb, knowing the reason we’re here tonight, at this juncture, is that this is a woman I am patently unable to satisfy.

 
I try and sneak a hint of skin as she closes the lush fabric around her, but she shuts it quickly, rolling her eyes and throwing a disgusted huff in my direction, where I sit meekly on the edge of the bed.

“I thought we’d been over this, honey.” She looks me full in the face, with a cutting look I can’t match; my eyes drop. This powerful, sexy woman stands before me, a pathetic excuse for a man, and tsks her tongue against her lips as she shakes her head in passive annoyance at me. When did she get like this? When did our societal roles as the dominant male and the subservient woman get so turned around?

Probably when I admitted to us both that I was unable to satisfy her, sexually that is, and that the solution was to allow her to seek that satisfaction elsewhere.

Again, that brings us to the present.

“No peeking until later, you know that.”

I nod, already feeling chastised and submissive. Tonight is her night; tonight is for
her
pleasure.

She’s checking her phone, an excited grin on her face. A knot of anxiety burns in the pit of my stomach; its almost time.
 

I notice that she’s done her makeup in the bathroom, and her long red hair, though still damp, is pulled back in a sexy ponytail. It’s just the way I love it, though tonight, it’s not for me.

No, tonight it’s for
him
. Him, the man who’ll be giving my beautiful wife what she really needs; what I can’t give her: a big, powerful cock.

He’s been to the house before, twice actually, while delivery various packages. It’s how we learned that our house was part of his normal route; that any packages we ordered would be brought by him.

Much like tonight.

I’d seen her looking, almost hiding it the first time as she ogled his crisp brown uniform, snug and tight over his thick arms and chest. Down lower, the material seemed to hug what was clearly a
sizable
package between his legs. Even clothed, you knew just looking at that pronounced bulge and the way he walked that the guy was hung. I knew that night, one of my last ditch efforts to please her in our bed, that she was thinking of that thick package while I furtively humped her.
 

The second time he came by, she gazed at it brazenly, not caring if he or I noticed; we both did.

He’s as arrogant as he is good looking. I can vividly recall him snickering at me in my work clothes, in my dress shirt and tie as I made the vain attempt at bringing the last large package she ordered inside upon delivery. “Why don’t you let me handle that one, little guy” he’d said to me, before easily hefting the large box through our front door. He’d winked at her as he did it too, letting her know - and letting
me
know - who the alpha male was.

She checks her phone again and I glance at the clock on the bedside table; anytime now.

“Are you ready, honey?” She’s looking at me with something fierce, something hungry in her eyes, and I know she’s thinking about whats to come.

I nod a simple affirmative, feeling the cold dread mixed with the charging jolt of excitement begin to build and grow in my gut. She bites her lip and walks out of the room, and I follow.

I’m to watch from the den, through a cracked door looking into the living room. It’s there that she’ll be fucking him, and its from there that I’ll watch this cocky stud of a man take my wife how she deserves. I’ll hide away in the shadows like the pathic, paunchy little bitch that I am while she gets treated like the Goddess she is.

As she’s ushering me into the room, there’s the tell-tale beep of a large truck backing up in the driveway. Her eyes shoot open, and she takes a gasp of air; barely contained excitement is writ large across her face as she hugs her robe tight around her body.

“It’s time.” She bites her lip devilishly as she looks at me in the semi-darkness of the den.

Fear, shame, second thoughts flood my mind, but its far too late for that. And then she’s kissing me quickly, chastely on the cheek before she’s pushing me into the room and closing the door almost all the way shut. As she leaves the room, I realize I’ve been holding my breath, and I let it out shakily in the darkness of my vantage point.

Why am I here? Besides the obvious - that I can’t satisfy my wife with my out of shape body and pathetically average cock - why am I
here
? Why not allow her her dalliance and leave for the night? Drown my sorrows in a bar, drive around, think of anything besides the love of my life getting pounded and fucked by another man.

But I know; I’m here to watch this, because I deserve it. It’s not enough that she be allowed to let another man fuck her; I’ve denied her ten years of pleasure, and for
that
, I’m to watch.

I hear the bell again, and then the front door opening. I can’t make out words, but I can hear her lilting laugh and his much deeper, gruff baritone. My tongue feels thick in my mouth as I strain to try and hear a word. They talk a minute; two. There are no words from where I stand, anxiously aroused and disturbingly excited, only muffled sounds and her laugh again.
 

Then they’re coming closer, and I can hear them just outside my view, in the doorway to the living room. She takes a step back, barely entering my field of view.

“So, do you think it will fit?” She’s hugging the bathrobe close to her body; her completely nude body.

He chuckles deeply, “Oh it’ll fit.” And then lower “I’ll make sure it fits
all
the way, Stephanie.”

How the fuck does he know her name?
I realize they’re already closer than I even knew; this is the banter of two people who have talked more than the two brief times while he was delivering packages. No, they’ve spoken more than that, which I fucking bet means he knew damn well what to expect coming here tonight.

And then she’s gasping dramatically and giggling. That fucker know’s she’s married, he’s fucking
met
me for Christ’s sake.

And then the words come that make my blood run cold; the words that drop my heart and my gut through the floor.

“Well, sit tight Steph, we’ll bring it right in.”

We?!

As if hearing the voice screaming in my head, she turns towards my hiding place behind the door, her eyes boring right into mine, though I’m sure I’m hidden. And her eyes say it all:
don’t you fucking say a thing
.

I feel a cold, creeping chill root me to the spot.
We
? As in, more than just him? She’s not still going to go through with this, is she? What are they going to do, make the other guy wait in the truck?