by Ben Boswell
Either way, she wasn’t his to dispose of. She was mine.
I shook my head. “Not yet. First she’s going to suck me hard. And then I’m going to fuck her in the ass since you don’t have the balls to do it yourself.”
I felt a rush as I said it. It was what I’d imagined Mike might say to me. Up until a year ago, she’d been an anal virgin. If I went through with it, I would be the fourth man to do it.
She looked up at me in surprise.
“Tell him you want it,” I ordered.
She swallowed hard and then turned toward Avi. She stared at his feet as if she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye.
“I want it. I want him to sodomize me,” she breathed.
Avi looked like he might explode in excitement. He just nodded mutely.
I yanked her ponytail and dragged her over to the couch. The same couch on which I’d watched her get royally screwed last night.
“Come on. Let’s get comfy, Cumslut.”
I’d expected her to kneel at my feet and suck me from there, but instead, she climbed onto the sofa beside me on all fours and dipped her head into my lap. The benefits were instantly obvious. In that position, I could sit back and still fondle her tits, pussy, and ass as she blew me. She took my softening cock completely in her mouth. I sighed in pleasure at her hot, wet mouth and her delightfully active tongue. I felt myself begin to stiffen again instantly.
I worked on her nipples, twisting and rolling them between my fingers. They were hard and sensitive and I handled them more roughly than usual, leading to the unexpectedly enjoyable sensation that came when she let out a gasping hiss while still sucking on my cock. Then her pussy. Two fingers, then three plunging inside her, my thumb making hard circles on her swollen clit as she bobbed up and down on my growing erection.
Finally her ass. My fingers were slicked from her cunt. I pressed them into her anus one at a time. Index, middle, ring. I added saliva and did it again. With each penetration I felt that initial resistance. Reluctant surrender as I penetrated her, followed by those gradually subsiding spasms as she got used to me. Each time her moans on my cock were delicious, and it occurred to me that it would be amazing to get a blowjob from her while another man fucked her in the ass. But not now. This time, it was my turn.
Another round of spit and fingers. She was thrusting back against my hand this time. She probably wasn’t completely ready, but I couldn’t wait. I yanked her off my cock, a strand of saliva linking my prick and her mouth.
“Turn around. I want him to see your face when I fuck your ass,” I ordered.
She nodded and spun around on the sofa, facing away from me. She waved her pretty little ass in my face.
“Spread your cheeks,” I commanded.
She dropped down onto her chest. She reached behind her and submissively pulled herself open for me. Her pussy and ass were slick from her excitement and my fingering, but even still, her anus seemed impossibly small to take a cock. But I’d seen it. Up close in high-def video. Mike’s fat cock pounding into her tight ass. She could take it, and she’d love it.
I placed the head of my cock against her anus. She trembled in anticipation. I didn’t let her wait long. I thrust in. She yelped.
“Don’t hurt her,” Avi cried.
It was so good, so different. That hard ring clenching me again and again, her whole body quivering. Beads of sweat forming on her lower back. I waited a few seconds as she panted and her ass spasms slowed. She was getting used to it. I pushed deeper.
She hissed and peered back over her shoulder. Her ass was clenching wildly. She was obviously in some pain, but more than that, she seemed surprised, maybe even a little bit frightened, like she wasn’t quite sure what I was up to. As she began to relax, her breathing slowing, I went in deeper still. She groaned this time. I yanked on her ponytail to make her look again at Avi.
“Are you okay?” he asked her.
She swallowed and nodded.
I was riding the knife’s edge, right on the boundary between not enough and too much. I pulled out a little and thrust in harder.
“Oh fuck,” she whined.
His face was a mask of horror and excitement. I was seeing a reflection of myself from some other time. But this time I was the heartless, merciless bull. I dribbled more spit onto the point where my cock speared my wife’s ass, and then I gave her another hard stroke.
“Bastard,” she grunted as she let go of her cheeks and extended her arms out over her head. Avi reached out and I saw her grip his hands in hers.
Despite her protests, she was adjusting more and more quickly. She was gasping on each stroke, but there were no more spasms, no more full-body shivers. My cock slid in and out of her tight asshole smoothly. It felt good, so good, that tight ring riding up and down my shaft. But I wanted more, wanted to give her more. Before I even knew what I was doing, I raised my hand and brought it down hard on her hard ass.
Harder than I expected. It sounded like a gunshot. She screamed. Avi gasped. Her ass immediately turned red. I slammed down on the other cheek. Another scream. I fucked her harder, harder. Her body shuddered from my blows and the force of my rough thrusts into her ass. I yanked back on her hair, lifting her up from the couch.
She gasped. I felt her body tremble, vibrations against my cock buried in her ass. Was she coming? I wasn’t sure. I’d had no experience with how it feels when a woman comes while you’re buttfucking her. It didn’t matter. I was completely inside her and she was shaking like a woman possessed and before I knew it, I was coming, shooting what felt like a gallon of come into her ass, that hard ring of muscle effectively milking every last drop of my seed.
I collapsed onto her, sweating, not quite believing what I had just done. I slowly eased my cock from her slick ass.
“You should go,” Avi said promptly.
I opened my mouth to protest, but Terri cut me off. “Yes, you should.”
There was nothing malicious about it. In fact, she had a small smile on her face as she said it. But even still, it was obvious that she wanted time with him.
“Alright Cumslut, whatever you want,” I said.
I recovered my pants and half-dressed, I departed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I went back to my room. I showered. I stared out the window. I took a nap. Then around 7:00pm I went downstairs to have a drink at the bar.
As I took a sip of my Bourbon, my phone buzzed.
[Terri]: Come on back.
[Bill]: He wants another session?
[Terri]: He’s gone. Just the two of us.
I made my way to the villa. She was waiting for me and opened the door before I could knock.
She was freshly showered, which instantly let me know that they had spent the afternoon after I left fucking. I guess even fake cuckolds need their reclamation sex. I didn’t care. I leaned in to kiss my wife.
SMACK! My cheek exploded in fire.
“That’s for Cumslut,” she exclaimed.
SMACK! She caught my other cheek flush.
“And that’s for doubting me for so long.”
I rubbed my cheeks. “Um, ow?”
She smirked. “At least I’m not insisting on putting anything in your butt.”
“Is that a fantasy of yours?” I asked. “No, I guess not. You’re all about manly-men making you feel like you’re not quite in control.”
“So?”
“So nothing. That’s just what it is,” I said.
“Right. And what does that mean for us?”
“Why do I always have to answer that question?”
She poked me in the chest with her finger, highlighting each word. “Because… you’re… the… one… with… the… problem.”
“You mean because I’ll admit my desires and you won’t admit yours?”
She shook in fury. “For fuck’s sake, Bill, I really thought…”
She trailed off when she saw me laughing.
“What the fuck is the matter with you?” she
asked.
“I’m just yanking your chain.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s almost as much fun as yanking your hair,” I added.
“Okay…. So, tell me.”
I glanced out at the balcony. “You have any wine?”
She smiled.
We sat out there and talked. Really talked. It was the first time we’d done that without me feeling all bound up. The first time I was really able to confront my real fears.
“I really thought I was going to lose you,” I admitted.
“Never,” she replied.
“No, that’s not true. If we’d kept going. If I’d kept going the way I was. You might not have left, but I would have pushed you away because I was scared.”
“Scared that another man would take me?”
I nodded. “Maybe a little. But it was never really that. It was more that I knew I would resent you for wanting things that I couldn’t provide. That as much as I knew intellectually that it meant nothing, nothing really important, it felt like an on-going rebuke, an accusation of inadequacy.”
“But I never felt that way,” she insisted. “I’ve always been grateful for you. For your understanding. For your encouragement to let me be me. And I would never have held it against you if you’d insisted we put things back in a box.”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure that’s completely true. You would have resented it. But I think you’d have been able to deal with it. I’m pretty sure every marriage carries around some resentments.”
She laughed. “Like when you leave the toilet seat up?”
“And when you don’t match my socks correctly. I went to work with a blue sock and a black sock last week.”
“Poor baby.” She paused. “But this is different.”
I nodded. “Yeah. It is. Look. Maybe you wouldn’t have resented it, but it would have made me feel weak. Pathetic. Like I had to deny you pleasure because I couldn’t provide it.”
“But you can provide it.”
“I didn’t think I could.”
I hadn’t exorcised my demons over April. And I knew I’d never be able to consistently be the man I’d pretended to be this afternoon. But I now realized that was a choice.
I continued. “All I can say is that this weekend finally made me get it. It made me understand that the real threat to me is someone like Avi, not someone like Brian.”
“He’s not a threat,” she replied.
“Why? Because he’s too much of a….”
“Cuckold? No. It isn’t that. I mean, if you really wanted that, I could live with it. But it’s not my preference. I prefer to be the only come-eater in the relationship.”
I laughed. As much as I didn’t feel like I was truly a bull inside, I now realized particularly in comparison with Avi, how little I had in common with a real cuckold. I liked to see my wife getting fucked. That I had to admit. I was a voyeur, and I got off on her excitement. But that didn’t mean I needed to be so closely involved. Sloppy seconds were about as far as I was willing to go.
“Avi isn’t real, is he?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You knew him before L.A.”
“Only online.”
“I should be angry.”
She nodded. “I did lie to you about him. So, maybe.”
“And how much did he know about us?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I found him on one of those cuckold sites. He was looking for a woman who understood his fetish. I catfished him, I guess.”
“So he really thought you were available.”
She nodded. “Yes. He courted me online. Then we dated, as I told you, in L.A. We practiced some games out there. He took me out to dinner, and then watched me get picked up at a bar.”
“Picked up?”
“I let a man touch my thigh. He kissed my cheek. We exchanged numbers.”
“And Avi?”
“We agreed he shouldn’t make love to me until after I’d been with another man. We figured it would be best to do it out here rather than back in L.A. where he wanted us to live.”
“That’s cold, Terri. You probably broke his heart.”
She had a tear in her eye. “I did. I thought… I thought it would be okay. I thought that having given him everything he could want, he’d take it as a gift.”
She had made his fantasy come true. For a weekend, he got to live the perfect cuckold life with a beautiful woman who would have raunchy sex with strangers right in front of him and then make love to him for hours after he licked the come from her dripping holes. But I knew how addictive she was, and how, in a way, he might have preferred to never have the experience rather than to have it yanked away.
“But you’re right. He was hurt,” she continued. “And even still, Bill, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
“Why? What did you think I’d learn from it?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I was… just flailing around for ideas. I was trying to provoke you into something… anything.”
“Oh, is that what seeing Brian everyday for the past two weeks was about?”
She grinned. “I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”
I nodded. “It did get me thinking,” I admitted. "How did you know I'd get there? To some real understanding?"
"I didn't."
It was a simple response, and yet in its own way devastating.
"So, how could you --"
"Go through with it?" She paused, but I knew she wasn't thinking about her answer. She'd already thought about that. She was thinking instead of how she wanted to express it.
She placed her hand on my forearm. "I didn't have a real choice," she said finally. "I made a lot of mistakes. I never should have opened the door with Chucky --"
"I encouraged it."
She nodded. "You basically threw me at him. But so what? I knew it was a bad idea. I knew it would hurt you ultimately --"
"I'm a big boy," I said defensively.
"Oh, Bill. I know that. And I don't want you to think I think you're weak. That's not what I am saying. What I am saying is that I was willfully blind to the risks. There was no really good outcome because either you'd be hurt or you wouldn't, and both would be bad."
"I don't follow," I replied.
She smiled. "It would have killed me if you hadn't been upset. If you could just send me out to have sex with other men and not be hurt or anxious.... It would feel like you didn't care."
I nodded. It was something I'd never thought about. I was so wrapped up in my own emotions that I rarely considered hers. I was noble. Selfless. Eager to make her happy. But how would she feel about her husband just signing off on this?
"I always cared."
"Of course. But that meant it hurt, and we didn't pay enough attention to that. I didn't."
"I didn't either," I admitted.
"And once we'd taken the plunge, we couldn't put the genie back in the bottle. It would always be out there. If we stopped, you'd see that as a rebuke, a sign that I didn't think you were strong enough to handle it. If we didn't, you'd see it as a sign that you didn't satisfy me."
I nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't phrase it that way. That I tried to make it about your desires."
"It is about my desires too, though."
"You've always admitted that," I noted.
"Maybe. Though even now.... I'm not sure how much I was trying to provoke a response from you and how much I was just... saying... fuck it."
I shivered. We'd come very, very close to the abyss.
"Like you had nothing left to lose," I suggested.
"Oh, I... we had plenty left to lose, but we'd have lost the most important thing... us."
I remained silent for a few moments.
"The sex... I can live with that."
"Live with it?"
I laughed. "Okay.... That's not right. What I mean is that it is a crazy mix of pain and excitement. A mad, mad rush. I love it and hate it. I could live without it, b
ut I don't want to." I paused. "And you?"
"All those things and more," she replied. "Because it's me, you know. You’re hearing about it, and watching it sometimes. But I’m doing it. And I'm so vulnerable and exposed. Exciting. Satisfying. But terrifying, and I could never do it if you weren't there to rescue me."
"I think you could."
"Not in the same way."
Another pause.
"I worry about losing you."
"Never."
"About you surrendering too much and becoming lost," I explained.
She seemed confused.
I tried to probe my own thoughts.
"The tattoos," I said finally. "That's... permanent."
She nodded. "You know he... they weren't really Brian's idea."
I tilted my head. "No?"
"Don't get me wrong, he liked them." Her grin hinted at the understatement. "But they were my idea. Do you hate them?"
I thought about the rose by her pussy, the devil on her shoulder and I thought again about mixed-motives. I didn't need to probe further to know they had multiple meanings. That they made her feel naughty. That she liked how they looked. That she knew they'd make me crazy. That she knew they'd make Brian extra hard. A nice reminder of how complex she was.
"No. They're... right for you."
We each took a sip of wine.
Then, she spoke: “But… Bill… I’m still not sure I understand where we stand. What changed?”
I paused. I’d been trying to work it through as well, but my answers were disjointed. And then it occurred to me, that’s okay.
“You have fantasies you can’t control, and living them makes you happy, and I want you to be happy. I have fantasies I can’t control either, and for better or for worse, our fetishes are mutually reinforcing. The thing is, I don’t like to be humiliated. At least… not in public. I guess, I do sort of like that feeling that another man is fucking my woman better than I can. I just… I just don’t want him to tell me that. And also, I guess, I wanted reassurance that, in the back of my mind, it wasn’t that another man could fuck you better than I could, but rather that he could fuck you better than I was willing to.”
