Cheating Wife Stories box set #1–3 (Rough MMF threesome, domination, and group play with a young housewife)

by Anya Aurelie

  Dave stuck his hand out toward her. "I'm Dave, and this is Marjorie." He looked amused at Ashley’s obvious embarrassment, and she guessed that this was not his first time cheating on Marjorie.

  Everyone shook hands, and Mike expressed surprise that Dave and Marjorie lived so close to them, yet they’d never met.

  "Yes, it really is a shame," said Dave. "We should have you over to dinner to get to know one another better."

  Ashley froze in shock. She felt a shiver of fear go up her spine. Dinner? With her husband and a man she had so recently cheated on her husband with?

  But of course, she couldn't say that. Instead, she nodded weakly and said, “That sounds great,” with a forced smile.

  "Wonderful," Dave said, and she thought she detected a sadistic glint in his eyes. "How about this Saturday?"

  "That seems perfect to me," Mike said. "How about you, honey?"

  Plans made, Mike and Ashley finished their dessert while Dave and Marjorie left the restaurant, but Ashley could no longer enjoy her mousse. All she could think about was what might happen on Saturday. Over the last few days since she had slept with Dave, she had thought often about his cock inside of her, the way he grabbed her and fucked her roughly, the way he forced himself into her mouth. She loved every second of it, and she daydreamed about it happening again — but not like this. Mike was not supposed to meet Dave. Their paths were not supposed to cross. She could not get caught. She and Mike might have their problems, but a continued affair just was not an option — and neither was divorce.

  Yet, Ashley couldn't help but start to feel wet in her panties at the thought of being in Dave's house again. She remembered the seafoam green walls, the hard tile floor in the kitchen where she had been held down by Dave's muscular body. She had to admit that more than once in the intervening days, she had lain in bed after Mike left for work, masturbating furiously at the memory of Dave's thick shaft deep inside of her tight pussy.

  On Saturday evening, Ashley’s nervousness had built to the point of almost bubbling over. She was so anxious she wasn't sure she’d be able to eat at dinner. She pulled on a tight-fitting, curve-showing dress. They would not be able to play this evening, of course, but she still couldn't fight the desire to look good for him.

  She and Mike walked across the street together at 7 o'clock, Ashley's heart in her throat as they knocked on the door. When Dave answered, Ashley was surprised to hear peals of female laughter coming from the dining room. Although she had not seen Dave’s dining room during her previous visit, the house was an exact replica of her own, so she knew right where the laughter was coming from. It was almost like being back in her own house, a bizarro version of her house.

  "Are there others here tonight as well?" she asked.

  "Yes, I thought I would invite a couple of other couples from the neighborhood," Dave said pleasantly. "I thought would make it a true dinner party. It's not often enough that neighbors get a chance to spend time together and get to know one another."

  Ashley felt her body relax. So it wouldn't be an uncomfortable evening of her and Dave, Mike and Marjorie, trying to pretend everything was normal, trying not to let the spouses know what was going on between them. With other couples around, it would be much easier to pretend.

  Dave ushered them inside and offered them a drink. They were introduced to the two other couples there, Eric and Shawna, and Stephen and Rachel. Both couples looked familiar to Ashley, and she thought she'd met Rachel at a neighborhood association meeting in the past, though she couldn't remember exactly. Dave handed them glasses of wine, and soon all four couples were chatting amiably.

  But still feeling the anxiety of not knowing what to expect from this dinner party, Ashley drank more quickly than she had intended. Dave kept refilling their glasses, and soon Ashley realized that she was tipsy.

  "I just need to freshen up for a moment," she said, excusing herself to the bathroom. She headed down the hall to look at herself in the mirror and try to regain control of her quickly spiraling mind, which was simultaneously worried that she or Dave would somehow let slip what had happened, and wondering how she could arrange for something else to happen again soon.

  She looked at herself in the mirror: long, blonde hair, soft features, smooth skin. She was still very young, at only 19 years old, and though the other couples at dinner were fairly young too, she guessed that they were all at least five years older than she was, maybe more. Still, she knew she looked good, and she knew how to flaunt it.

  "You're okay," she murmured to her reflection. "No one has to know anything. Just get yourself together and stop thinking about his cock." As soon as she'd said it, she looked around her, as though there were someone else in the tiny bathroom who might overhear. It was ridiculous, she knew, but she couldn't help herself. She was paranoid.

  Taking one last deep breath, Ashley opened the door to rejoin the party. Dave and Marjorie would be serving dinner soon, and she didn't want to be away for suspiciously long.

  When she went out to the hall, though, Dave was waiting for her on the other side of the door. Ashley jumped. "Hi, Ashley," Dave said with a devilish grin.

  "Hi," she said uncertainly. What did he want from her?

  As though in answer, Dave reached out and pinched her nipples, hard, through her dress.

  "Ouch!" she said in surprise. She looked around furtively to make sure no one else had seen, but they were all still in the living room chatting.

  "When are we going to have a replay of last week?" Dave asked her.

  "We can't," she said in a whisper. "It's too risky."

  "Ah, but where's the fun in anything where there isn't also risk?" He raised an eyebrow at her seductively, and she felt her nipples harden. The image flashed through her mind of herself the week before, facedown on his bedroom floor with wrists handcuffed behind her back, his throbbing cock pulsing in and out of her.

  Ashley hesitated for only a moment. "We can't," she said again, decisively, then turned to head back into the living room and rejoin her husband.

  But as she tried to walk away, she felt a strong hand gripping her arm and pulling her back roughly.

  "Oh yes we can," he said, and the finality of his tone stopped her cold.

  He grabbed one of Ashley's tits, squeezing it in his palm like silly putty, and with the other hand reached down and between her legs. The dress stopped him from touching her underwear, but his intention was clear: I want to have you again, and I'm going to.

  "No!" she said, pulling away from him.

  "What are you going to do?" he taunted in a low voice. "Run and tell your husband?"

  Ashley was stunned. Was he blackmailing her? Now, looking into his eyes, she saw that he was indeed willing to do what it took to have her again. His eyes were steely, and against her better judgment, she felt her panties moisten.

  They stared at each other, and then without warning, Dave shoved his hand between her legs again, grabbing her through her dress. Then he shoved the dress up her legs and snaked his fingers inside of her underwear. Ashley didn't object. He shoved two fingers inside of her roughly, and she had a hard time stopping the moan that was trying to escape her throat.

  Just as abruptly, he pulled out of her. "Here's what's going to happen," he told her, staring down into her eyes. He shoved his fingers into her mouth and forced her to lick her own juices off of them while he spoke. "I'm going to use you any way I want to. I'm also going to ask Stephen and Eric if they want to join in. You will let them do whatever they want to you as well. In return, I won't tell Mike anything."

  She spat his fingers out. "You can't do that!" she objected.

  "Oh, can’t I?”

  "I won't let you do anything to me that I don't want," she said.

  "You seem like you wanted my fingers," he said. "Based on how slippery and wet you are."

  She had to agree. She was wet. She could feel it in her own underwear, and she could taste it on his fingers. There was no denying that she did want him
. She wanted all of him, and in fact she wanted whatever he threw her way. She wanted Stephen, she wanted Eric, she wanted to be used. She wanted to be a sex toy.

  But that didn't mean she could do it. Even if it weren't for Mike in the other room, her devoted husband, this was not something that nice girls did. She felt perverse and perverted for the places her mind went as they spoke there in the hall, the way her thoughts instantly painted mental pictures for her of the three men using her together. This was not what she was supposed to want. This was certainly not what she was supposed to agree to, no matter the circumstances.

  But what choice did she have? Mike could not find out. Ashley had no skills of her own. Only a year out of high school, she had foregone college and had never had a real job aside from summers working retail behind the counter at a waterpark. That would not get her far in the real world. Mike paid for everything for her. He housed her, he clothed her, he fed her. Well, technically she fed him — he didn't do any of the cooking or the grocery shopping. But he paid for all the food. And although they had their differences, there was a part of her that very much loved him. She was a bit bored, maybe, but she certainly didn't want to hurt him. She certainly didn't want to get divorced.

  "So what's it going to be, Blondie?" Dave asked her, shoving her up against the wall in the hallway and feeling her up and down with his hand. His fingers wandered all over her body through the tight fabric, distracting her and making her wish she could allow him to throw her down on the floor right here and take her.

  Maybe it was her body reacting to his touch, but it seemed as though she had no choice. "Okay," she said, looking down at the floor. "Please don't tell Mike."

  He smiled at her and took his hand away, releasing her from up against the wall.

  "Excellent choice," he said, and turned to walk back into the dining room. Perplexed, she followed him. What had just happened? What had she agreed to?

  "Time for dinner," Marjorie announced, and the four couples moved into the dining room.

  Marjorie served a green salad and as Ashley ate, she wondered whether Marjorie knew about Dave's infidelity, whether they had an arrangement, or if he would be throwing himself under the bus too if he told Mike about their tryst. Was he bluffing? Maybe he wouldn't say anything after all.

  But she couldn't risk it. After they finished with the salad, Dave gestured to her with his eyes to follow him into another room. Ashley subtly shook her head no, and she saw Dave’s eyes flash with anger.

  "Mike," he began, and Ashley didn't wait to hear what he would say next. She stood up and walked in the direction that he had nodded, into a room that in Ashley and Mike’s house was used for storage, but that Dave apparently used for an office.

  "Excuse me," she heard Dave say behind her, and then the sound of the chair scraping backward. A moment later, he joined her in the office.

  "What?" she spat out.

  "I want you," he said simply. He moved toward her in the small space, pushed her up against his desk, and shoved her dress up her body. Roughly, he pulled her panties down, and she stepped out of them, acutely aware of every sound coming from the dining room. He shoved her dress up again and grabbed her tits, shoving her bra out of place to touch the bare skin. He pinched her nipples, hard.

  "You like being used like this?" he asked her.

  "Yes," she moaned, and it was clear that it was true. She couldn't deny the reactions her body was having, nor the perverse pleasure she was getting from knowing they could be called at any moment. She hated that she was a cheater, had never thought she was capable of doing this to her own husband, had always harshly judged people who cheated in relationships. But now that it was her, now that it was Dave, and now that she knew what sex could be, none of that wimpy lovemaking that Mike enjoyed, but real, hard, rough fucking, it turned her on to be with him, and turned her on even more to know that she was sneaking around. It was true what Dave said: part of the fun was the fear of getting caught. And the pleasure of getting away with something.

  Pulling her dress up toward her head so tightly that she was worried it would rip, he put his mouth on her tits, lightly biting her nipples until they were hard and pointy like pencil erasers. Meanwhile, one hand shoved between her legs, forcing her to stand with legs wide apart while he massaged her clit with one finger. His goal seemed to be to give her as much pleasure as possible, forcing her to stay quiet when all she wanted to do was scream out in pleasure.

  The moment she made a tiny moan, however, she pulled away all at once. "No," she said softly, hurting from his absence. She was starting to become dizzy with desire, wasn't thinking clearly now. All she knew was that she wanted his cock.

  "You have to stay quiet," he said. "Don't make me gag you."

  "What are you going to gag me with?" she said. The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

  A faint smile danced on his lips. With a quick glance up and down the hall outside the office, Dave unzipped his pants, leaving the top button buttoned. He pulled his rock-hard cock out the small opening.

  "On your knees," he demanded, and she fell down onto her knees and immediately took him into her mouth. His thick dick filled her mouth, and she struggled to take all of him into it, to shove him down her throat. He tasted different than he had the day before, not bad but sweeter, stickier.

  "You like that?" he asked her, looking down at her head as she sucked him. "I fucked my wife earlier, and you get to lick her cunt off of me."

  To her surprise, Ashley felt a new burst of wetness when he said that. The thought turned her on so much that she sucked him with renewed vigor, taking him deeper into her throat.

  "That's right, you're such a dirty girl," he said. "That's my little slut."

  After a moment, though, he pulled her back up to her feet.

  "I want you to show me that tight little pussy," he said. "Lean over the desk and spread your ass apart for me."

  She did as she was told, leaning into the hard wood and pulling the dress up over her ass. With both hands, she spread her ass cheeks apart, showing him her tight pinkness, which she knew would be glistening wet with her desire.

  "That's right," he said, standing behind her and examining her. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw that he was lazily stroking his cock as he looked at her. "You stay right there. Stay just like that. If anyone walks by and sees you, you are not to move. Do you understand me?"

  "I can't —" Ashley began to object, but he cut her off sharply.

  "You will do as you're told, or I will tell your husband what you've been doing to me in here," he said, and she was quiet. Her cunt throbbed with anticipation. What if someone walked by? What if someone saw her like this?

  Dave left the room, and Ashley stayed in position, ass up in the air and cheeks spread wide to expose herself to the room. She heard him out in the dining room, offering wine refills to the other guests, and offering his apologies for their delay.

  "I was showing Ashley some client work I've been dealing with," she heard him explain vaguely, but no one questioned him further. They had all had a bit of wine, and she doubted their absence had made much of an impression.

  An excruciating few minutes later, she heard footsteps in the hall. Her heart beat faster, wondering if it was someone other than Dave who was about to catch her with her bare cunt exposed to the world. When his imposing figure appeared in the doorway, she breathed out a sigh of relief.

  "That's a good girl," he told her. "You're right where I left you."

  Ashley nodded. "I stayed here the whole time," she told him.

  "Guys, come on in. You have to see this," Dave called out into the hallway, and Ashley's pulse picked up again. "What?" she asked, whipping around and getting out of position.

  "You stay where you are told, whore," he snapped, and Ashley immediately returned to her position against the desk. She liked getting called names. She hadn't realized before now that it was a huge turn-on to her.