A typical Friday. Too many deadlines, too many phone
calls, too many emergencies. Although a few of these
deadlines and emergencies were the result of my
representation of Contrax Industries, I was still
looking forward to lunch with Contrax's president, Rick
While Rick always attended to business, he was also a
bit of a "rounder," and damn proud of it. Given my
rather staid sexual relationship with my wife, Anne, I
enjoyed living vicariously through Rick's exploits.
This lunch fit the normal pattern. Rick and I spent the
first 45 minutes analyzing and dissecting the antitrust
implications of a possible acquisition by Contrax.
After beating that dead horse one last time, Rick
ordered us a couple of Absolute Citron's with soda and
embarked on a recounting of his latest conquests.
"Married pussy!" Rick exclaimed.
"What do you mean, Rick?" The non-sequitor confused me.
"Married pussy is the easiest, hottest, wettest pussy
in the world."
"Rick, as a married man, I can speak with some
experience and certainty on this subject. Married pussy
is anything but easy, and rarely hot or wet." My reply
was authoritative, but in retrospect I led with my chin
on this one.
"Bill, for such a smart lawyer whom charges $350 an
hour, you're a total dumbshit."
I like Rick, but he's also a bit abrasive and arrogant.
Sometimes he can really push my buttons.
Rick continued, "when I speak of married pussy, I'm
talking about fucking pussies that are married to other
men. More times than not, a married woman is dying for
a thorough fucking from a real man, not just the weekly
ten minute diddle they're used to from their husbands."
"Well, I imagine that there are some dissatisfied wives
out there, but as your friend and attorney, I strongly
advise against propositioning married woman. You'll end
up with, at least a bruised cheek from her slap and, at
worst, excruciating pain from her knee to your groin."
Rick chuckled, but quickly dismissed my cautions.
"Bill, you don't even have a clue. In the past three
months, I've approached eight different married woman,
and I'm batting a thousand. I've concluded that there
isn't a married woman out there, who given the
opportunity, would turn down a sexual romp with a good-
"I don't know what world you've been living in, Rick,
but I suspect that if you approached any of the married
women that I know your batting average would quickly
drop to the point that you'd be sent back down to the
"Like who?" Rick stared at me confidently.
I was totally dumbfounded. I didn't expect to be
challenged on this point. My mind went blank so I tried
to avoid the question. "Look, Rick, you know damn well
that there are so many frigid wives living in the
suburbs that your theory can't hold water."
"Who?" Rick wasn't going to let the question slide.
My mind was slowly starting to reason again. I didn't
really want to give Rick the names of any of the
married women that I know. Rick's the type of guy who
jumps at every challenge. I certainly didn't want him
hitting on the wives of any of my friends. Common sense
suggested that the safest thing to do was rely on my
Anne and I have been married for twelve years, with two
k**s to show for the venture. Anne is not exactly
frigid, but she's also rather conservative when it
comes to sex. Pretty much straight intercourse, with
very rare oral sex, and certainly no anal. From the
perspective of frequency, we will usually have sex 3 or
4 times a month. I knew that Anne would never stray. In
fact, she was a virgin when we married.
"Well, Rick, like my wife, for example.."
Rick smirked. "You mean Anne?"
Rick had met Anne at a few business functions.
Certainly, nothing untoward occurred. Anne is always
the epitome of propriety. Not that she isn't strikingly
beautiful, but she masks her 5 foot, five inch, 115 lb.
frame and 35-21-36 figure in expensive and conservative
attire. One of my unspoken complaints has always been
that Anne's delectable ass is never displayed in a
manner befitting its magnificence. Of course, her dark
brown, shoulder length hair is always perfectly coifed
and frames her high cheek-bones, porcelain skin and
"Bill," Rick shook his head in a condescending fashion,
"do you really think for a moment that Anne hasn't
fucked around on you?"
Not wanting to give any credence to Rick's outrageous
suggestion, I tried to remain composed when I
confidently replied, "I know she has never cheated and
would never cheat. That's why your hypothesis about
married pussy is fatally flawed."
"Well, Bill, if Anne hasn't taken on any other men,
it's only because she's never been presented with the
"Sure, sure, Rick, whatever you say..." My cynical
response only served to heighten Rick's competitive
"Look, I'll prove it to you if you doubt me... but its
got to be a fair test. You can't purposefully intervene
or interfere. You just have to give me a reasonable
chance to prove my point without letting Anne know
that's something's up, I'll admit I'm wrong if I fail.
Hell, I'll even let you handle drafting the Berringer
contract at double your hourly rate."
It sounded like a deal to good to be true. I'm somewhat
ashamed to admit it, but I really wanted the Berringer
contract, and double my hourly rate would pay for a
nice ski vacation. Yet, I recognized that Rick's a
shrewd man. "What happens if you're right?" The lawyer
in me always tries to weigh all the variables.
"See, you're already afraid that I'm right! A second
ago, you thought I was full of shit... I'll tell you
what I'll make it an easy wager. If I'm right, you
agree not to interfere and let whatever happens to
Less than enthusiastically, I said "Deal."
For some unexplainable reason, I looked at Anne
differently that night as she emerged from the shower.
I wondered how she'd react to Rick coming on to her. I
wondered whether her nipples would become erect in
response to his flirting, whether her pussy would
As I daydreamed about the possible scenarios, I
suddenly imagined Anne naked, laying on her back, her
legs spread wide, bucking her pelvis wildly to meet the
thrusts of Rick's invading cock. Certainly, I'd never
witnessed such a scene when Anne and I make love. It
dawned on me -- as these illicit thoughts cluttered my
mind -- that my own dick was hard beyond any normal
That night I attacked Anne with a fervor. I wanted to
reassure myself of my potency. But, Anne reacted as
always, reservedly and in control. Even though I fucked
her with what I thought was superhuman intensity, she
laid there, moving slowly, waiting for me to finish. At
the ordained moment, Anne reached up and began to
fondle my balls and the sensitive skin between my
scrotum and asshole. Anne knows that this sensation
always sends me over the edge.
Even though I desperately wanted to hold off until her
belly rippled with an orgasm, the sensation was too
great, and at the last moment, the image in my mind
returned to Rick slamming his dick into Anne's cunt.
I climaxed violently and collapsed. With her normal
grace, Anne slipped out from under me and rolled over
to go to sl**p. Yet, for me, these unsettling images
continued, until I too fell into a deep sl**p.
For the next week, I continued to be haunted by these
perverse images of Rick and Anne in the throes of all
varieties of sexual couplings. I found myself
masturbating with a fervor that I hadn't known since
adolescence. Of course, Anne was oblivious, remaining
the picture of propriety. Perhaps fortunately, I didn't
have occasion to speak with Rick during this time
frame, either. the situation began to take on the hazy
quality of a wicked nightmare. That is, until a local
charitable cocktail party.
It was a typically staid affair, with all the frigid
wives parading in their diamonds and designer duds. The
husbands, with their fat wallets and brokerage
accounts, sucked down fine whiskey while sharing off-
color jokes about their bimbo secretaries.
Anne was in her element. She was dressed impeccably in
a black, backless number bearing some French designer's
moniker. Actually, it was rather unusual for Anne, for
it displayed her cleavage and a healthy dose of leg. Of
course, Anne had a unique way of looking classy and not
the least bit sensual.
After a couple of vodka and tonics, I was startled by
Rick's booming voice. It was quite a surprise since
Rick normally eschewed these events. "More boring than
trolling for babes at a convent," I remember Rick once
"Rick, what the Hell are you doing here?"
"Bill, you cynical bastard! I'm here because I care
deeply about the very same things that everyone else
here cares about"
"Oh, and just what would that celebrity cause be, eh
"Something about irradiating the Bosnian, homosexual
humpback whales, I think." Rick smirked, and in a
sarcastic voice said: "You know, Bill, I've changed my
take on these society bashes. While I still believe
that the vast majority of pussies present haven't had a
good plowing in the last decade, I've concluded that
this fact presents someone like me with endless
"God, Rick, you're a complete predator!" I replied.
With that comment, Rick glanced over towards Anne, who
was engaged in some banal conversation with the hostess
of the party, and remarked: "So, speaking of cunts
yearning to be filled, how's our little girl, Bill?"
Flushed with anger and indigence, all I could muster
was: "Fuck you, asshole!"
"Now, now, Ricky boy, remember our wager. Besides
you're so confident about Anne's fidelity that there's
nothing to worry about, right?"
With that, Rick made a beeline towards Anne. On the one
hand, I felt like intervening. On the other, I truly
wanted the vindication of Anne spurning Rick's base
advances. In the end, I drowned my indecision in more
vodka and tonics.
As the evening wore on, my stomach felt oddly queasy.
This feeling was exacerbated every time I lost sight of
Anne. Yet, throughout, I could not ignore the aching in
To my frustration, Rick had succeeded in cornering Anne
into a long one on one conversation. This was quite
surprising since Anne was notorious for her ability to
work a crowd. Many times, people would come up to Anne
and apparently interject themselves into the
Normally, Anne would use the interruption as an
opportunity to move on. At the very least, Anne would
always graciously welcome the new party into the
discourse. Yet, on this evening, Anne's body language
caused the interlopers to move on after only a comment
or two, leaving her and Rick to themselves.
Finally, the event was coming to an end, and the
caterers began to pack up. Anne remained clearly in
sight, and fully clothed, albeit in conversation with
Rick. At last, I felt a sense of relief and victory, as
Anne left Rick and walked over to me. My elation was
"Honey, I don't feel like calling it a night yet.
Rick's invited us to join him for drinks and dancing at
a club. What do you say, it'll be fun, especially after
you've had to put up with this boring purgatory for
I had no choice but to agree. I certainly couldn't beg
off and tell that I'd wagered her fidelity for some
good billable work. Likewise, I would be breaching the
deal with Rick if I interfered.
"Sure, honey, that sounds great." While I was less than
enthusiastic, I rationalized away the risk that Rick
might actually succeed. After all Anne had done nothing
Perhaps ill advisedly, I had more vodka and tonics when
we reached the club. The dim lights and smoky air of
the club further clouded my self induced alcoholic
haze. The loud music also rang in my ears and distorted
the conversation. Rick had strategically sat next to
Anne in the booth, relegating me to the other side of
the table. My inability to make out or participate in
the dialogue heightened my paranoia.
Rick was chatting up Anne with aplomb, and had even
maneuvered his arm around her shoulder. When it came
time for dancing, I was in no condition to spell Anne
from Rick's devious onslaught. Putting aside my
agreement not to intercede, my coordination was
completely shot from the drinking.
At first, it was fast dancing, leaving Rick little
opportunity for bodily contact. However, late in the
evening, the music slowed and Rick pressed himself
close to Anne. My senses may have been dulled, or my
paranoia rampant, but I could swear that I saw Anne
grinding her belly into Rick's bulging groin. Maybe I
was just feeling sorry for myself, but as I downed my
n-teenth vodka and tonic, I began to visualize illicit
pictures of Rick fucking Anne ferociously with Anne
bucking back like a thousand dollar slut.
Rick and Anne had, meanwhile, danced their way to the
most remote and dark corner of the dance floor. Again,
my perceptions might not have been acute, but I am sure
I saw Rick and Anne engaged in a never ending, French
kiss while Rick slowly stroke her ass and fondled the
sides of her breasts.
Blessedly, closing time finally arrived. As we
staggered to the door, I surrendered to Anne the keys
to the car. Rick said something about a nightcap at his
place and, for an instant, my heart stopped. But, for
some reason, Anne declined. I poured myself into the
leather passenger seat of our BMW. Before Anne got in
she said "Ooops, just a second I think I left something
in the club."
I was able to watch Anne in the passenger rearview
mirror as she walked back to the club. But, she didn't
go in. Instead, she went up to Rick as he was unlocking
the door to his Mercedes. Again, they kissed...not very
long though. I could see Anne and Rick exchange brief
words. With a sly smile, Rick placed his hand on Anne's
right tit as she turned to walk back to the car.
Anne made a little small talk on the drive home, but
her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. Although my cock
was turgid all evening long, the alcohol caused me to
elect sl**p over a desperately needed fuck once we got
home. Yet, during the night, I slept fitfully,
awakening often. At least twice, I heard Anne breathing
heavily and the rhythmic sound of her hand vigorously
at work between her legs.
The next day, Rick called and invited me to lunch. I
hoped that he would simply take pleasure in the fact
that he had groped my wife, and let the "wager" drop.
But, this hope was dashed almost immediately.
"Billy boy! How are you feeling after all that booze.
Probably not as good as I was "feeling" last night, if
you catch my drift."
The sinking feeling in my stomach again sank in, and I
could actually feel my manhood shrink.
"Look," I implored, "why don't we just call the bet a
"No go, Billy. That wouldn't be very sporting.
Especially after all my hard work. But, I'll tell you
what: Let me try to ask Anne out alone just once. If
she turns me down, I yield the point."
"Okay. It's a deal." I reluctantly agreed, believing
that Anne would never risk being seen alone, in public,
Rick was smirking like a cat with canary feathers
hanging out of its mouth.
"What the hell are you smiling about!"
"Well, Bill, I forgot to share one little fact before
you agreed: I already asked and Anne accepted. We're
going out tonight."
I felt as if I was going to implode. That morning, Anne
had asked for me to watch the k**s because she was
going to have a girl's night out with her best friend,
Kathy. We had allowed one another "night's out" since
our last c***d was born as a method of preserving our
sanity. I never dreamed that Anne might use this
arrangement to fool around on me. Of course, Rick could
be bullshitting me. I'll never put that above him.
"Tell you what Bill," Rick continued, "at the end of
the evening I'll give you a call to let you know that
Anne's on the way home. Just to make it interesting,
I'll let the phone ring once if nothing happens, twice
if she only allows a little petting like last night,
three times if she blows me, and four rings if she is
When I got home that evening, Anne was busily getting
ready to go out. But, she didn't act or dress any
differently than on other occasions. I rationalized
that Rick was simply torturing me, and that Anne was
going out with Kathy.
On the way out the door, Anne gave my her traditional
peck, and said, "Kathy and I are going to catch that
new French film and maybe go out for dinner and drinks
afterwards. It's a three hour movie, so I'll probably
be late... no need to wait up."
Initially, ignorance was bliss. I chose to disregard
Rick's boastfulness and, instead, trust Anne's honesty.
Yet, once I put the k**s down, my mind began to wander.
A combination of jealousy and uncertainty gnawed at my
brain. But, at the same time, I felt bad about doubting
By 10:30 PM, my stomach became unsettled in the same
fashion as the night before when Anne and Rick were on
the dance floor. By 11:30 PM, my paranoia overcame
reason and I thought about ways to confirm Anne's
So, in a very sophomoric manner, I called Kathy's
telephone number. Embarrassed, I almost hang up after
the second ring, but then a groggy voice answered
"hello." It was unmistakably Kathy's voice, and it
sounded as if I'd awakened her from a deep sl**p.
Flabbergasted, I set down the receiver without saying a
To my ironic dismay, I'd proven that I wasn't paranoid.
Anne was out with Rick.
As midnight eased into the early morning hours, my
mental imagery was torture. I would alternate between
fantasies of Rick fucking Anne in all different
positions, with fantasies of Anne resolutely turning
down Rick's advances, saying "No, I'm a married woman!"
Tellingly, my cock was rock hard as I imagined Rick
plowing into Anne's pussy. With guilty perversion, I
stroked myself to an incredible orgasm, which brought
Suddenly, I awoke to the sound of the telephone. I
looked at the clock; it was 2:26 AM! It seemed like an
eternity before the phone rang for a second time. I
quickly rationalized that Anne had already engaged in a
heavy petting session with Rick, so this second ring
should not be that surprising. But, just then, the
phone rang for a third time. The shock of the thought
of Anne sucking on Rick's dick staggered me. I waited
with dreaded anticipation, wondering if the caller had
BBBRRRRIIINNNGGG! The fourth ring pierced through the
darkness of my bedroom. Instantaneously, my cock
erupted in another climax without the aid of manual
There I laid in the dark. My belly covered with my own
cum. The phone hadn't rung a fifth time. Yet, I still
wondered whether Rick was intentionally torturing me.
After all, this was hardly evidence that Anne had
succumbed to Rick's seduction. At most, it merely
suggested that Rick and Anne had been together. While
their being together was not particularly comforting,
it certainly didn't prove infidelity.
So, I waited for Anne to get home.
She arrived about fifteen minutes after the fourth ring
of the telephone. Anne slipped into the bedroom without
turning on the light. Apparently, she thought I was
asl**p and I didn't disabuse of the notion. She seemed
somewhat unsteady on her feet, perhaps the result of a
little too much alcohol.
Unfortunately, it was too dark to make out anything
more than her silhouette as Anne discarded her clothing
into the hamper. Nude, she made her way to the bathroom
and closed the door. I was a bit surprised to hear the
shower since Anne normally showered in the morning.
But, it did afford me an opportunity to inspect her
At first, I noticed nothing abnormal other than the
smell of smoke that garments always collect in
restaurants and nightclubs. Of course, I didn't want to
turn on the light so my inspection was hampered. When I
retrieved Anne's panties from the hamper, I felt an
obvious wetness. In fact, the crotch was thoroughly
sopping. Instinctively, I brought the soiled panties to
my nose. The aroma was striking.
While I immediately recognized the feminine smell of
Anne's sexual lubricants, there was some other smell
even more evident. It was a familiar, pungent aroma...
it was the same fragrance that I smelled twenty minutes
earlier when my balls spewed my second load of the
Oddly, these mixed remnants were not in the least bit
offensive. I slipped the panties into one of my drawers
for further examination in the daylight hours.
When Anne exited the bathroom, she had already turned
out the light so again my vision was impaired. But, she
did walk as if she had just finished a 15k road race.
Anne slipped a white nightgown over her head and
climbed into to bed.
There was no effort by Anne to make physical contact
with me. Instead, she rolled over on her stomach with
her face away from me towards the wall. Within seconds,
I could hear the sound of her deep breathing as if she
was already in REM sl**p.
I didn't want to wake her, but my curiosity persisted.
After about thirty minutes, I extracted my pen light
from my bed stand and flicked it on under the covers.
Anne's nightgown had ridden up, fully exposing her legs
and ass. Just then, she moved her right leg giving me a
clear view of her pussy from behind. I was amazed by
what I saw.
Anne's labia were swollen and pink. In the place of her
normal little slit was a gaping opening where I thought
I could see all the way up her vagina to the cervix.
There were no apparent fluids; she must have cleaned
and dried herself in the shower. I marveled at the
sight. It was something I'd never even seen, not even
on our wedding night. I could only imagine the size of
the organ that must have done this damage to Anne's
womanhood. I certainly wouldn't be enjoying the
pleasures of Ann's tight cunt for some time. if ever
Approach avoidance. In the morning, while Anne slept,
my feelings alternated between abject depression and
wanton lust. Fortunately, when I began to slip in the
abyss of bemoaning the fact that Anne had been
unfaithful, I pulled out Anne's panties. The negative
thoughts dissipated as my erection grew. The fluids had
dried into an obvious yellowish stain, but the odor
remained unmistakable. I found the aroma intoxicating.
I found myself masturbating frantically in the bathroom
as I held Anne's soiled panties pressed to my nose. As
I came, I knew that this intense sexual experience was
addictive, and not one easily dismissed.
Yet, as I drove to work the depression began to set in.
My self-esteem was suffering from being a cuckold.
A little after 11 AM, my secretary buzzed in to let me
know that Rick Robertson was on the line. I knew that
this call would come, but my heart began to race
nonetheless. Surprisingly, Rick said nothing about the
night before, instead concentrating his comments on my
draft of the Berringer contract. He then suggested that
we get together for lunch to discuss some of the deal
I felt strangely uncomfortable around Rick at lunch.
Every time he looked at me, I wondered what he was
thinking. Was he remembering how he'd fucked Anne last
night? Was he wondering what kind of a wimp I was to
allow my wife to be screwed by another guy? Had Anne
said anything about my sexual prowess?
After we'd finished talking about the Berringer deal,
there was a very pregnant pause. Rick just sat there
and stared, a smirk beginning to form on his face. I
couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. I felt as if I
was out of control, in a free fall.
Finally, Rick ended my misery. "So, I guess I proved my
point. And, gee, Bill, I'm really sorry about the
condition of Anne's pussy. I never dreamt that she
could be so tight after years of marriage."
Rick had done it again: pushed my button. I really
should have just admitted it and walked away with my
tail (or dick) between my legs. But, I don't know if it
was masochism or simply sheer stupidity, I took an
indefensible and idiotic position.
"Rick, you've proved nothing. Anne was out last with
her friend Kathy. I know it for a fact. You have no
evidence that you nailed Anne, other than the fact that
you sat at home and called my phone number late last
night. The fact that you know how to dial my phone
number proves nothing."
Rick was honestly taken aback by my vigorous defense.
After a moment, he just shook his head incredulously
and laughed. "Okay, if proof is what you want, proof is
what you'll get."
As we parted, Rick was still smiling and shaking his
head. On the other hand, I was kicking myself. What had
I done?! I'd just invited Rick to go after Anne again!
As I continued to marvel at my incredible gaff, I began
to suspect that my subconscious may have played a very
significant role in my actions. Indeed, I could feel my
cock swell as I considered the prospect of a return
engagement between Rick and Anne.
The next week, Anne asked for another "girls' night
out." Of course, I had to agree. This time she dressed
in a more provocative manner: a black silk slip dress,
no bra (something I'd never seen Anne do before) and I
think she was wearing black thong panties (to my
knowledge Anne didn't own any underwear of this type).
Anne concocted no alibi this time, rather she simply
kissed me on the cheek and said not to wait up.
After the k**s were asl**p, I drank three beers and
retired to my bed sans clothes. With absolutely no
sense of personal dignity, I fondled and sniffed Anne's
cum soaked panties while imagining the salacious things
that she and Rick must be doing at that very moment. I
stroked myself to at least two good climaxes before
Even in my dreams, I saw Anne's slender legs wrapped
around Rick's torso, bucking frantically as he battered
her crotch repeatedly with his thick, erect penis. Just
as I heard Anne moaning in orgasm in my dream, and
visualized Rick's balls tightening and shooting their
load into Anne's convulsing cunt, a piercing sound
returned me to consciousness. It was the phone.
In an almost Pavlovian manner, I sat up in bed on the
first ring. With the second ring, I regained my
orientation. The third ring brought a tingling
sensation to my testicles and nipples. The fourth ring
triggered another eruption from my dick. Then there was
only silence as my semen pooled on my belly and I
looked over to see the clock radiate 2:49 AM.
When I heard Anne come in about 15 minutes later, I
wondered what Rick's idea of proof might be. Anne
staggered into the bedroom. She pulled her slip dress
over her head. While the only light source was the LED
on our alarm clock, I could tell that she had no
"Damn," I thought. No chance for a fresh source of
Then, to my surprise, Anne just climbed into bed naked,
without taking a shower or putting on a nightgown. I
could smell alcohol on her breath and, I think, Rick's
cologne in her hair. She rolled over towards me, and
kissed me, deeply thrusting her in my mouth. Her lips
were loose and her saliva flowed freely all over my
cheeks and chin.
Anne had never kissed me in such a wanton and messy
fashion before. The taste of alcohol was unmistakable,
but mixed in were flavors with which I was unfamiliar.
I don't know if it was the alcohol, but when Anne
finally withdrew her lips, my face was coated with a
sticky and slimy residue.
Before I could fully assess the situation, Anne grabbed
the back of my hair with both hands and f***efully
guided my head underneath the sheets. My cheek brushed
her left nipple which was erect and harder than I'd
ever experienced. Anne kept pushing my head until I was
between her legs. This was quite out of the norm; Anne
had never demanded oral sex before. If I went down on
her, it was always at my instigation.
There I was in the darkness, under the covers. For all
intents and purposes, I was blind. Yet, my other senses
were heightened. The aroma emanating from Anne's crotch
was pungent. It was the same odor I remembered from her
soiled panties, only intensified. There were squishing
sounds coming from her pussy, and every so often, a
little "fart" of air would escape.
Impatiently, Anne ground my face into her groin. I
could feel a hot, slimy, sticky pool of fluids soaking
her pubic hair and cradled by the folds of her spread
labia. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and extended my
tongue into the void between her thighs. The opening to
Anne's vagina was enormous. It seemed wide enough to
consume my nose, mouth and chin. My tongue caught a
huge glob of the flow which oozed from her cunt. The
strong taste was foreign to me: tart and salty with a
tinge of the musky flavor of Anne's vaginal juices.
Now there was no denying it. I was swallowing the semen
Rick's cock had deposited deep in my wife's pussy.
Common sense, Judeo-Christian morality and years of
heterosexuality dictated that I should be revolted.
But, my rigid dick and throbbing prostate said
otherwise. With a fervor, I began tonguing Anne's
swollen and distended labia lips seeking to savor the
remnants that had already escaped from her cunt.
I sucked what seemed like a endless stream of semen
from the depths of her vagina. All the while Anne
moaned and rocked her pelvis against my jaw. I heard
myself whimpering with satisfaction as if I were a
suckling infant taking nourishment from a mother's tit.
Time and time again, I tried to extend my tongue and
swab Anne's cervix, but I couldn't. Rick's dick must
have been not only thick as a redwood but long as one.
He must have pounded Anne's cervix well up into her
After Anne had convulsed in orgasm, a thicker flow of
cum poured forth. I lapped it up and became to wonder
if Rick's sperm had made its way into Anne's womb. Even
though I knew Anne was on the pill, the thought of
Rick's virile seed swimming in search of one of Anne's
eggs, sent me over the edge. Without even touching
myself, I came again, my semen pooling on the mattress
as I continued to coax every drop of Rick's semen from
my wife's folds.
After what must have been ninety minutes of furious
efforts, Anne had climaxed three times and was clean as
a whistle. I, too, was hard again, but Anne was asl**p
and there was nary a dollop of sperm left in her
vagina. With some hesitancy, I decided to fuck Anne
I positioned my penis at her gaping hole. Literally no
pressure was necessary as my dick disappeared. It was a
loose, warm sensation as I moved my erection around
this vast expanse that had once been a tight little
pussy known only to me. There was ample room for more
and Anne's vagina almost engulfed my balls as well.
Apparently, the absence of friction allowed Anne to
sl**p through the five minutes of my squirming inside
of her. I tried to hold off as long as possible, but
the thought slipping around in my wife's used pussy was
too much. I added my light load to the scene of the
crime and fell into a deep sl**p.
The next morning (which seemed to come to soon), I
awoke with a crusty residue coating my face. Rick and
Anne's combined juices had dried like a tight mask. I
showered and left for work, leaving Anne asl**p. Her
face seemed contented.
Predictably, Rick called mid-morning to schedule a
lunch. I was resigned to the continued humiliation of
picking up the check for the man who made me a cuckold.
Rick was beaming with his sense of achievement when I
met him at the cafe'. As we sat down at our table, Rick
crowed "So, how's my boy? I hope your mommy taught you
to be a good loser."
Perhaps I lacked the depth of conviction from my
earlier denials, but I surprised myself by conjuring up
enough strength to say: "Rick, I'm really tiring of
this entire charade. You haven't accomplished anything,
and you certainly have no proof."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk.." Rick replied as he shook his head
condescendingly. As he did, Rick reached into his
jacket pocket and retrieved a pair of black silk thong
panties which he deposited on my plate.
I immediately recognized the panties as the pair that
I'd seen on Anne for the first time, the night before.
After regaining some composure, I picked the panties up
with my finger and, while dangling them in front of
Rick, said "Rick, I'm surprised, I never knew this side
of you. After all, a man of your station in life
shouldn't wear women's underwear!"
Rick was not amused. "Look, pencil-dick... this is your
proof. Those are Anne's panties that I kept as a
souvenir from last night."
"Oh, that explains the phone call in the middle of the
night." I smirked. "It was you up to your old games.
Damn near woke both me and Anne up. Oh, by the way,
Anne doesn't wear or own any thong panties."
As I surreptitiously slid the panties in my jacket
pocket (for later examination and sniffing), Rick's
face got red and angry. Then, he relaxed and suddenly
began to laugh loudly.
"Okay, okay, I get it. I think I know what's going on."
Rick gasped after stifling his guffaw. "Kinda strange,
but whatever floats your boat! If you want undeniable
proof, you shall have it."
The rest of the lunch proceeded without mention of Anne
or the wager. But, I did catch myself noticing Rick's
cologne, the same smell that Anne brought home. I also
began to imagine what Rick looked like in the nude with
particular time spent visualizing his erect cock and
heavy testicles. Indeed, kinda strange for a married,
For the next few days, I wondered what kind of proof
Rick had in mind. To my disappointment, Anne did not
ask for any "girls' nights out." I was doubly
disappointed to discover that the "prize" thong panties
did not have any dried semen. There was the discernible
aroma of Anne's juices, but missing was the pungent
odor of a man's ejaculate.
The next Wednesday, Rick called and invited me to
lunch, again. I was surprised. Anne hadn't gone out at
all the preceding evenings. My curiosity was piqued as
I hurried to keep the lunch date. I was anxious and it
didn't help that Rick was running late. I was so
nervous that I ordered a drink, something that I never
do at lunch. After about ten minutes of fidgeting.
The waiter came over and handed me an envelope with my
name on it. I opened it and found a novelty greeting
card with the picture of a shapely young woman bending
over to reveal an ass comparable to Anne's with lace
panties. On the inside, it read "The End is in Sight!"
Underneath was handwritten: "Your absolute proof awaits
you in the master bath of your house... Rick."
I threw a $20 down on the table and left the cafe' like
a bat out of Hell. Fortunately, there were no speed
traps between the restaurant and my house. When I
arrived, I noticed that Anne's car was still in the
garage, but she was nowhere to be found. Nevertheless,
I headed straight to the master bath. But, to my
frustration, there was nothing!
Absolutely, nothing was amiss or out of the ordinary!
Like a fumbling treasure hunter, I looked in every
drawer and cupboard, under ever towel, even in the
toilet tank. Zippo! I was ready to go track down Rick
and knock the shit out of him, when I heard the front
door open. Anne's laughter was immediately
recognizable. But, she was talking to someone else and
moving towards the bedroom.
My instincts motivated my to hide or run. In
retrospect, it was absurd. Here I was in my own home,
feeling like a burglar.
Since I knew that the French doors to our bedroom were
looked, I was trapped in the master bath. I switched
off the light, and hoped that Anne didn't need to use
Initially, I sat quietly on the commode. Anne's voice
grew louder as I heard her enter the bedroom. When I
could make out what she was saying, I was shocked.
"God! I'm dripping wet! My panties are soaking." Anne
Whether by serendipity or by plan, I realized that I
could see most of the bedroom including our bed in the
reflection of the vanity mirror. There, I saw a
reversed image of Anne unzipping a stylish red skirt
and letting it fall to the floor where she kicked it
away from her feet. She was still wearing matching red
pumps and thigh-high stockings. The tail of her white,
silk blouse covered her panties.
Although I was somewhat disoriented by the mirror
image, I realized that she was looking towards the door
to the living room as she began to slowly unbutton her
blouse. As she did, she licked her lips in a seductive
manner I had never seen before. With a glistening pout,
she finished with the last button. Anne opened the
blouse that slipped from her shoulders to the floor.
To my surprise, Anne was not wearing a bra. Her 34B
breasts were fully exposed with her nipples erect. With
her blouse gone, I could finally see Anne's panties.
They were skimpy, high-cut and, she was right. There
was a very noticeable dark wet spot seeping through the
Anne's gaze was still directed towards the bedroom
door. "Do you still like what you see?" Anne asked in a
I heard a male voice reply "umm-hmmm."
"Prove it. Show me that you like it." Anne commanded.
From my angle, I couldn't see her male guest, but I
knew it had to be Rick. I heard the sound of rustling
clothes and, then, an unzipping zipper. With that
sound, Anne's eyes grew very large as she looked down.
Her breathing grew faster, and she started manipulating
her hard nipples.
"God. It looks even larger in the day light." Anne
licked her lips again while working her nipples.
Suddenly, Anne squatted down gracefully keeping her
balance in her high heels. With her legs spread,
emphasizing the growing wet spot that now almost
saturated the entirety of her underwear, Anne beckoned
with her index finger. "Please... bring it here. I need
to taste it, feel it..."
In anticipation, both Anne and I waited. The on the
edge of the mirror, I saw a bulbous cock-head, pre-cum
fluid dribbling from the hole. It was a little
difficult to estimate its size given the absence of a
reference object. But, it seemed abnormally large.
Slowly, the shaft came into view. It too seemed thick
and had bulging veins. I expected to immediately see
Rick's body, but more and more shaft followed until it
culminated in dark brown pubic hair with commensurate
testicles swaying heavily between Rick's muscular legs.
When Rick reached Anne, I could finally appreciate the
massive size of Rick's genitals. His cock-head touched
the bottom of her chin while brushing Anne's nostrils.
Its length and girth were far greater than my slim 6
inches. I mentally guessed 9-10 inches in length and,
as Anne grasped his dick, her hand could not quite
In a worshipping manner, Anne's tongue dabbed up Rick's
pre-cum. She then closed her eyes and kissed the tip of
the mammoth rod. Just as Anne's lips parted wide, in a
optimistic effort to give passage to Rick's erection,
Rick motioned to the bed stand and said: "Shouldn't you
cover up Bill's picture?"
With a wicked smile, Anne got up and retrieved our
wedding photo that she kept next to the bed. She
strategically placed it on the bed, inches away from
Rick's cock. Then Anne lifted Rick's cock to the photo
and, in a flaunting manner, slurped the head into her
The humiliation excited me. Anne's lips were stretched
taut and her jaw wide open as she did her best to
fellate Rick. In the background was our wedding
picture. Despite her efforts, Anne's petite mouth could
not accommodate more than 4 inches of Rick's dick.
After about five minutes of valiant efforts, Anne
stopped sucking and stood up. She slipped her sopping
panties off and laid back on the bed. Her legs were
splayed wide and I could clearly see her engorged labia
glistening with her lubricants.
"Rick, I need you to fuck me good! It's about time that
I get really well fucked in this bed!"
That hurt, but my own erection throbbed.
Anne positioned our wedding portrait at the end of the
bed between her legs. Rick climbed between her thighs
and began to run the tip of his cock up and down Anne's
slit. It seemed to dwarf Anne's crotch. Anne's eyes
shut and she began to moan softly as Rick prepped her
for entry. As he did, there was a squishing sound as
Anne's juices flowed.
"I think your pussy is starting to get use to me, its
opening wide," Rick remarked.
"MmmmMmmm. It misses your thick, long cock. It wishes
that you were fucking it raw 24 hours a day."
I was amazed. The impossible seemed to begin to happen.
Anne's petite pussy was expanding beyond anything I'd
ever witnessed. Rick's cock-head disappeared and Anne
sighed, breathed in deeply and tilted her pelvis to aid
the invader. The lips to her vagina were stretched
around Rick's girth as he slowly plunged deeper. After
about three minutes of maneuvering, I could no longer
see Rick's cock; his g****fruit-sized balls rested in
the crack of Anne's ass. It was an awesome sight.
Rick began to pump the full length of his cock in and
out of Anne's distended cunt. Anne became very vocal as
Rick's tempo increased, moaning and whimpering in
obvious ecstasy. The slurping noises coming from her
pussy as Rick pounded away were nasty. With each
thrust, Anne's body would recoil and her breasts wiggle
as Rick's penis rammed her cervix further back into her
To my amazement, Anne's stomach began to undulate with
an orgasm after about five minutes of frantic fucking.
Rick wouldn't let up and allow the spasms to subside.
Instead, he worked Anne's pussy like a finely tuned
instrument, bringing her again and again to climax
until I lost count.
By know my own dick was throbbing as if ready to
explode. Suddenly, in the reflection of the mirror, I
saw Rick's pace reach a crescendo, his sperm-laden
balls tightened and with an enormous grunt he launch
his cum into the deepest regions of Anne's over-
stretched vagina, at the door to her womb. Rick's load
was so voluminous that there was inadequate space in
Anne's vagina to accommodate both Rick's semen and his
convulsing cock. Thick, white cum oozed out around
Rick's embedded shaft.
Then, I realized that my own cum was saturating my
pants and running down my leg.
After a momentary respite in which Rick and Anne (and
I) caught their breath, Rick withdrew his still erect
member with a "plop" from Anne's gaping opening. Anne
proceeded to suck Rick for all she was worth. Anne's
cultured restraint and manners were all but gone; she
slurped and lapped with utter abandon. After about
fifteen minutes of ministrations, Rick rolled Anne over
on to all fours and plunged back in doggy-style.
Rick spent the next 90 minutes fucking Anne in every
imaginable position. Twice more he spewed his semen
into her pussy, each time his load seemed, incredibly,
to be as large as the first. Rick cum matted Anne's
dark pubic hair and flowed freely from her cunt after
Rick withdrew for the last time. Anne had had
innumerable orgasms and collapsed, naked but for the
sweat glistening all over her body. Rick dressed walked
over and kissed Anne fully on the lips.
Exhausted, she mumbled, "Thank you for cumming...
please cum again."
Before Rick left the bedroom, he turned to the darkness
in the master bathroom and looked directly into the
vanity mirror. It immediately dawned on me that
reflections work both directions. Staring with a
satisfied smirk, Rick zipped up his fly with an
arrogant flair. Without saying a word, he turned and
I waited for another fifteen minutes to see if Anne
would also leave, but she was sound asl**p. As I
emerged from the bathroom, the smell of sex permeated
the room. I looked at my satiated wife splayed nude on
our marital bed with another man's sperm running out of
her well-worn pussy.
The picture was too much for me to take. I climbed into
bed between her legs and proceeded to lick the remnants
of the illicit coupling from her folds. Anne moaned
quietly, as my tongue darted in and out of her swollen
labia, but her eyes never opened.
My own frenzy increased as I slobbered, face down in
her crotch. After sucking every available drop out, I
noticed that I'd come again. Then, exhaustion overtook
me as well, and I fell into a deep sl**p.
When I awoke, it was 9:30 PM, Anne was out in the den
watching TV with the k**s who'd since come home from
school. Embarrassed, I didn't say anything to Anne.
She, too, was silent although there was a contented
smile on her face.
In the nine months which have passed since Rick gave me
"absolute proof," Anne will go out once or twice a week
and return home in the wee hours of the morning.
Sometimes Rick will still call before she comes home
and let the phone ring four times. When Anne comes in,
there is no doubt that she has been well-fucked.
Without mentioning anything, she strips out of her
clothes, climbs on top of me, straddles my head and
lowers her sopping, oozing pussy onto my mouth for
This past week, after sucking down the last dollop of
Rick's semen from her now-permanently enlarged pussy,
Anne surprised me by mentioning that she was thinking
about having another c***d. Instantaneously, I shot my
load... You see, I hadn't cum inside her vagina for
almost five months.
I wonder how she plans on getting pregnant?!