by Jaime Thorne
Pulling out my phone I texted her a few times telling her where I was and letting her know that I could bring her the book. Getting no response I figured that breaking a rule just this once probably wasn't a bad thing, I could even just knock on the door and get her to come out without having to come in.
Frankly, I was desperate. I sensed my wife was in trouble and wanted to help. That's what motivated my actions and led me to all of this, a need to protect her. A need to keep her happy.
The shop was dark when it came in to view and I knew in an instant that this place was everything she said it was. I'd been to a few places she'd worked over the last few years and they were all so grimy and rundown inside and out, but this place was sparkling and looked as new as the day it was christened.
Now that I was here I didn't know exactly what I was going to do. I stepped up to the main client door and texted her again, getting no response and then trying the handle provided me with nothing so I took a walk around to the side of the building which is where I found the employee entrance.
An entrance that just happened to be ajar.
I knew it was wrong. I knew it was crossing a line. Though I may not know her reasons I knew she had them and that I shouldn't have gone in there.
But I did it. I quietly pressed open that door and stepped inside into the empty room.
The lights were on inside, which told me that though the client section was closed the shop was still working. Everything was neat and tidy and organized, and I found when I stepped in that I was in a locker room of sorts, no doubt the employee changeroom and lounge.
This place was really fucking nice. Proper and comfortable seating and a big flat-screen television. There was even a bathroom complete with showers off to one side, and so enamored by the space was I that it didn't even occur to me once that there was only one set of showers, only one changing room. This wasn't a place built for men and women to share, it was built for men alone.
Moving through the space without questioning much of anything I clutched the book in my hand a little tighter and opened the door into the shop. I stepped out into it, finding a shop that was orderly just like hers and scented with the familiar smells of cars and sweat. It made me understand why she felt so at home here, why she was willing to devote so much time and effort to acceptance here.
But when I heard the noises all of that wiped away from me and I felt a chill seizing my spine and my mind. I froze right where I was, unwilling to take another step forward for fear of what I might see.
Because the sounds were unmistakable, echoing through the air and telling me that it wasn't playing through speakers. This was real and present, happening here in this space. Two people coming together with all of the grunts and the moans and the sound of skin on skin. Someone was fucking in this shop, and in the back of my mind, I knew exactly who it would be.
I didn't want to admit it though. I held out hope that even in spite of the fact that I had seen her car out in the parking lot my wife was already on her way home. That she wasn't here and witnessing this, that some shop mechanic had brought his girlfriend in for some after-hours fun and that all of this didn't mean what I thought it meant.
When I finally regained control over myself I stooped down low and moved, creeping along the back of the shop and moving quietly and carefully from cover to cover. I could hear the general direction the noises were coming from and so I knew where to move to see it, and I made my way there with determination and a hope of what I would find.
My hopes were shattered when they finally came into view.
Naomi was there, wearing her standard shop overalls that had been undone to the bottom. The shoulders were pressed to the very limits, barely holding on as her white bra and panties were exposed below. Because beneath the overalls that was all she wore, and not even a practical set but one that was lace and brimming with support, partly sheer but lifting up her breasts and giving her already incredible cleavage a generous boost.
Two men crowded her on either side. Two big fucking men whose bodies were corded with thick and heavy muscle. They had sweat on their brows and their bodies were hungry, their hands snaking inside of her overalls to grasp and feel her body, playing over her breasts and down and around to no doubt squeeze and maul her ass.
She was kissing them, letting one kiss and bury his face in her neck while her lips were locked with the other. Seemingly torn between the two of them she was pushed and pulled, her body the rope in a tug of war between their wills.
But it wasn't just the three of them.
Two other men stood leaning against the wall beside them watching. They were chatting idly, beers in hand watching the show playing out in front of them.
I froze still behind the car I was hiding. I watched this happen, this war of wills and the crowd watching for their own pleasurable entertainment. I watched as her hands tugged down the zippers of the overalls of the men who were kissing her, as she snaked them inside to grasp at their cocks and squeeze them. As the touch of her hand on their bodies drove them to more frantic action, growling with enthusiasm and doubling down on their work on her body.
Both men kissed her neck and one played lower towards her breasts. He made messy work on them and when he pulled away they were shiny with the reminder of his lips and tongue as he moved his way up and gripped the back of her head, turning her to look at him.
“God Naomi you're such a little fucking slut,” he laughed.
“Fuck you,” she spat back, her fiery anger on full display.
But it didn't affect him at all, it only made him laugh in response and pull her head to his as he kissed her hard once more, his tongue pushing its way past her lips.
What in the hell was going on here? I knew my wife enough to know that she was obviously angry with these men but knew her enough to know as well that she was more than capable of stopping them if she wanted.
I'd seen her wheel that anger on men far bigger than this, and she had dispatched of them with ease. Her hard work in the shop had given her deceptive strength and her body was lithe and limber, she had no trouble in a fight and though she'd been less than forthcoming about her past in a lot of ways I got the sense that there was a darkness somewhere back there that had given her the experience to know how to throw a punch.
So if she was angry with these men why was she letting this happen? I gripped the car and prepared to intercede on her behalf but stopped myself all at once.
Because I knew enough about myself to know that I would do nothing but hurt myself if I got in the middle of this. And I knew enough about Naomi to know that she valued her independence and balked at the idea of anyone acting as her knight in shining armor.
She preferred me as her teddy bear.
He pulled back and she gasped and my eyes locked onto her face. I'd seen that face before. She was flush with arousal and need. She wanted them, even if only on a physical level and even if she hated herself for it. She needed them and needed this.
“Look at you just barely keeping it together,” he mocked again, then turned to the audience watching, “What do you think guys? Do you think Naomi has had enough or do you think she wants more?”
“Fuck her!” shouted one playfully.
“Get her on her knees,” said the other, more intense and with his hand idly squeezing his cock through his overalls as his eyes darkened and he took a pull from his beer.
“Now that's an idea,” the first man said, the one who had just kissed her, “What do you think Naomi? Don't you think you deserve to be on your knees?”
Her eyes flashed with anger but she didn't say a word, she fell to her knees without even having to have them ask her.
Both guys on either side of her shrugged out of their overalls and they fell to the ground. One was bare-chested and the other wearing a t-shirt. The one with the t-shirt quickly removed it and soon all they were wearing were their boxers.
Both of them were hard and fearsome, looking so terrifyingly huge with my t
iny wife on her knees in front of them. She knelt there with her hands in her lap, looking up and down one man and then the other but sitting patiently and waiting.
The man who hadn't spoken yet broke the silence by gripping the back of her head and burying her face into his boxers.
“Feel it,” he grunted, “Feel my cock throbbing for you. Feel it you fucking slut. You see what you do to us you goddamn tease.”
“She's not a tease,” the other guy said, “Teases don't put out like this one does. No, she's a fucking whore. You're a fucking whore aren't you Naomi?”
“Fuck you,” I heard her say, muffled by the boxers her face were buried in.
“Sorry Mrs,” he replied, emphasizing and drawing out her married title, “Do you think anyone other than a whore wouldn't cheat on her husband like this? Don't you think cheating on your dear sweet doting husband makes you a whore?”
Her body stiffened at the reference to me and the man who was holding her pulled her head back. He looked down on her while she stared up at him, but her fiery resolve was melting drop by drop.
“Tell us the truth whore,” he said angry and fierce at her, “Don't lie.”
“I'm a whore,” she gasped out, eyes wide with hunger and need, “I'm a fucking cheating whore. Are you happy? I want to suck your cock. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Good enough for now,” he said with a cruel grin, “Because I have far better uses for your mouth than to hear you talk.”
He tugged down his boxers with a pull and his cock popped out. I only caught a glance of it before he tugged her face onto it and buried it between her lips with a groan. He plunged it into her, his hips pounding short thrusts into her mouth as he moaned with delight.
“Fuck you got a good mouth,” he said, “I honestly think it might be your best feature. Such fucking pretty and plump lips. So fucking hot. Fuck that's good, now suck it proper.”
He let her go and she continued to bob, taking him easily as could be. When she plunged down on him her shoulders heaved a bit with the feel of him at her throat. When she pulled back her tongue lashed out and wrapped itself around his head with abundant enthusiasm.
The other guy pulled her hand up and placed it on the bulge in his boxers. Without looking she tugged them down and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, her hand pumping automatically in time to the rhythm of her mouth on guy number one.
She still had a free hand though, and that meant that one of her audience could join in. He stepped up and undressed himself as he went. And she didn't even need instructions to begin stroking him while she worked on the other cocks around her.
I was watching my beautiful wife kneeling on the dirty floor. Three naked men surrounding her while she gave herself to them with enthusiasm driven by her need. I was watching as she took turns with each of them, shifting around clockwise and making sure that each of them got to experience everything, making sure that none of them was without for long.
If it had been any other woman it would have been an amazing sight. But it was my wife on the floor there, my wife having her resolve melted bit by bit. My wife giving herself over to the passion of these hard and mocking men, men who shouted and called her names and humiliated her while she worshipped their cocks.
Pulling back her hair and slapping their cocks on her cheeks. Her searching out for them with her mouth, moaning and mewling wordlessly as they teased and denied her.
Them calling her horrible names and making her confess the truth. The truth that she wanted and need this, that she loved to be treated this way.
And worst of all that she loved to cheat on me. That she loved these late nights with them. That she looked forward to them all day long.
“She does like it rough, doesn't she?” said the sole remaining man watching from the side, whose obscene bulge was visible even beneath his baggy overalls. He took a long drink from his half-finished beer and continued to watch, a broad smile on his face.
“The boss spoke to you slut,” said the guy whose guy cock was in her mouth, “Do you like it rough?”
“Yes,” she gasped around his cock, “Yes I like it rough.”
“Good,” he said, “Because you're about to get just that.”
He pulled her to her feet and the two others worked on her clothes. They tugged and pulled the overalls from her and then snapped off her bra without any pomp or circumstance. They roughly grabbed at her panties, pulling them from her body while she stood there gasping and trembling, her eyes hungry with the knowledge of what was going to happen.
The man in front of her, the one she had just been blowing, pulled her forward and grasped her close. He kissed her hard, his cock pinned between the two of them. I watched her body move, hips bucking as she tried to position him properly, she was trying to mount that cock but he was just too tall.
He pulled back from her, hand on her neck as his eyes flared.
“Tell me that you want my cock,” he mocked her, “You know it's the truth.”
“Fuck you,” she spat back, that spitfire of a woman still in there.
“No cock unless you confess,” he went on, “Tell me that you want it slut. Tell the fucking truth.”
A snarl came out of her lips but he pushed her back and held her at arm's length, she knew he wasn't lying and the need inside of her drove her actions. Brows furrowed with concern that she might be denied, hands reaching for him, legs trying to push herself forward until that resolve broke and she confessed a truth that I already knew.
“I need it,” she pleaded, “I need your cock. Please don't keep it from me. Please fuck me I need you inside of me.”
“Good little whore,” he sneered, then he tugged her forward, bent her over the hood of a nearby car, and gave her exactly what she was begging for.
He pounded into her with a single thrust, burying his thick cock inside of her wet sex that opened and accepted him easily. She cried out not in pain but in relief, like a woman gasping for air but that air was his thickness and her needs were satisfied.
His hands were on her ass, spreading her cheeks apart and holding her still as he fucked himself into her with hard and fast strokes. He grinned at the sight of her overcome, body glistening with sweat as she took him whole time and again.
And while at first she had been an idle participant, a body for him to fuck, soon she came to life and her hands pressed against the hood, her ass pounding back on him to meet his strokes with equal if not greater enthusiasm.
“Yes!” she cried out, “Yes I love it! Yes, I need it! Oh fuck I needed this!”
He looked over at the men around them, an expression on his face that said 'check this out' and 'check out this whore who wants it' and so much more. He pounded into her, bending low over the car and giving her every inch of his energy, and she took it all and responded in kind.
“Oh fuck that's good!” she shouted, “Oh fuck you're all right I needed this! I love it when you all fuck me like this! I love being your submissive little slut! I love being your cheating whore!”
The other men moved into a position to get a better view and so did I. I moved silently around the cars with my eyes locked on this sight in front of me.
Our sex life had always been adventurous and my own personal pornography habits had led me down so many different paths that I couldn't count them all anymore. I'd seen porn like this before and it had always been of little interest to me. Being a literature professor I liked my porn with more than a little story and I liked to be able to identify with the characters but with cuckold porn, I could never understand their motivations. I could never understand why they would want to lose their wife like this, why they could stand it without having their heart break.
And though I was in so much pain from watching them turn my wife like this, from watching her respond back on them with so much enthusiasm and need, I could feel something stir within me.
Making it real made it so much more present for me. It made it all so much more intense and physical th
at it made my head spin and made my heart thud in my chest.
And it made me so hard, so achingly hard in my pants that I felt like the blood had been drained out of the rest of me. My fingers and toes were numb watching this, as if all of my energy and attention were pressed into them and I held none of it back for myself.
I slipped into a new perch, careful to be quiet as I stared at my wife while she was taken by this hard and powerful man. I watched him break with his climax, watched it move through his body until it was undeniable.
“Fuck this slut is tight,” he mused, “I'm gonna fucking cum soon Naomi and I want to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours. What do you say? Do you wanna eat my load and swallow it whole?”
“Yes!” she gasped and cried out, “Oh god yes!”
He pulled back and she slipped to the ground, stunned and blind with pleasure she moved until she found his cock and took him whole and down to the root. She swallowed all of him, her throat distending around his thickness for a moment before she pulled back and fucked her lips on him.
“Oh fuck slut just like that,” he growled, “Fuck you're hungry for it aren't you? Take it! Take my fucking load!”
He pulsed and his body shook, his hand gripping her head and holding her still as I watched his balls contract over and over, watched his shaft jump as he unloaded in her mouth.
She swallowed every drop without breaking contact with him, only opening her lips once she was done and then lashing out her tongue to clean him. She worked on him until he fell back from the sensitivity, but even then her body still followed him with desperation until another man stepped up and pulled her to her feet then pulled her off of them.
This new man slung her over his shoulder like she weighed next to nothing. He slapped her ass and she squealed with delight before he brought her over to a waist-high table and dropped her on her back on it.
Her legs opened for him and he stepped inside without question. He slid into her with ease and she moaned out the words, “More.”
