by Henry Morgan
She’s twenty-eight and has blonde, waist-length hair. She’s slim with blue eyes and a beautiful smile.
Is she with you now?
Yes, she’s right next to me. She’s very nervous.
Have you asked her about any boyfriends? David pursued his enquiry.
She says there’s no one, but I found some stains on her panties and I’m sure there’s a guy where she works who’s doing her.
How do you feel about that?
There was a long pause before the man responded. I’m okay with it as long as Tammy stays with me. She knows she can have whatever she wants.
This guy who works with Tammy, is he big?
Yes.
Do you think he makes Tammy do dirty things? Does she dress like his slut when she goes out for his cock? David was almost certain Oscar’s wife was not screwing anyone, but he knew the man had fed his fantasy so many times it was the only meal he could eat.
She puts on high-heeled shoes and tight blouses for him just so he can rip them off her and bang her like the slut she is.
Are you okay with me fucking her? David typed.
There was another long pause before the reply arrived. Yes. Maybe she’ll see how much I love her and she’ll stop cheating on me behind my back.
I like sluts, David informed him. I might want to treat her like one. Does she give good head?
Yes.
Great. Tell her that when I arrive I expect her to do exactly as I say. I’m not used to being disobeyed. Does she understand? David upped the ante, but apparently he timed his moment perfectly.
She says she’s scared but she’ll try for my sake.
Good, and I expect the same obedience from you. Do you understand?
I’ll do as you say, the man replied submissively.
Once I step through the door, your wife is mine and you’re powerless to stop me no matter what I do to her. Are we agreed on this?
Agreed.
David asked for their address, received it, and had just switched off with Oscar when he finally received a reply from Donna.
Chapter 6
It was almost nine-thirty at night before David drove his RV into Rushmore Crescent, a quiet suburban street decorated with palm trees. Behind the arboreal markers stretched pleasant lawns and gardens leading up to large and expensive homes.
He was near the end of the road before the number he was looking for came into view. Although he was confident in himself, this was new territory for him, and he ran over in his mind several scenarios, including how to extricate himself if something went wrong or did not feel right. He pulled slowly up the drive listening to the crunch of gravel beneath the wheels. In this quiet neighbourhood it sounded to him like a fireworks display announcing his arrival, but no one looked out to investigate.
It took three rings of the doorbell before a middle-aged man finally answered. He was a bit shorter than David and his hair was thinning, but he had a pleasant face and he looked fit in his jeans and T-shirt.
‘Oscar?’ David asked.
The man nodded, and stretched out his hand. ‘You must be David.’
David shook his hand but gave him only a faint smile, not wanting to appear overly friendly. He was, after all, there to fuck the man’s wife and play a part in their sexual fantasies, a part which was not polite and considerate.
Oscar stepped aside, and gestured for David to pass.
It was a big house and tastefully decorated and furnished. The living room was warm and inviting despite its overriding white decor. Several leather chairs were scattered across the plush carpet, and a contrastingly colourful rug was spread out across the hearth of a large stone fireplace. The fire was lit, and David appreciated the warmth it gave out; San Francisco could be very hot during the day and yet quite cold at night. The room’s casual intimacy was further enhanced by candlelight provided by scented wax.
‘Would you care for a drink?’ Oscar asked him, rather formally.
‘A beer would be nice,’ David replied. He seated himself in one of the chairs beside the fire and waited patiently, but his drink was slow in coming. Subdued voices from the kitchen suggested Tammy was discussing the night’s upcoming events with her husband, and suffering from cold feet. Or from a cold pussy, David thought, smiling to himself.
Eventually Oscar returned with a glass of beer he handed to his guest with an unsteady hand. ‘You’re English,’ he remarked inanely, seating himself across from David on a couch.
‘That’s right, I’m English, and your wife’s getting it from some guy at work,’ David stated bluntly, skirting the small talk and going straight for the jugular.
Surprisingly enough, Oscar seemed to welcome his direct approach. ‘He’s a bastard,’ he declared, opening up. ‘He’s always chatting Tammy up at company parties and touching her cheek and putting his arm around her waist.’
‘And that makes you think he’s fucking her behind your back?’
‘I can see it,’ Oscar answered ardently, leaning forward. ‘The way he looks over her shoulder at me and smirks, it’s obvious. It’s like he’s saying, “Hey man, I’m drilling your wife and there’s fuck all you can do about it”.’
David put his drink on a shelf built into the fireplace. ‘If it upsets you so much, why do you want me to drill her, too?’
‘Because I can’t get the vision of him banging her out of my head.’ Oscar looked and sounded increasingly agitated. ‘I see them at it in my mind all the time, rutting like animals. I even come home and check the sheets because I know the dirty bastard is doing her in my own bed. It’s driving me fucking crazy.’
‘Have you found anything to confirm your suspicions?’ David asked reasonably. ‘Any evidence at all?’
Oscar shook his head. ‘She’s too clever for that. A few times I’ve come home and there’ll be clean sheets on the bed even though I know for a fact she’d only changed them a couple of days ago. So I figured if I let her have her fun with someone who isn’t going to take her away, that she’ll stay with me. I can give her anything she wants; I run my own business and it’s doing better every day. I just want her to stay with me.’
‘You’re not being honest with me, Oscar,’ David said quietly, and clearly hit a nerve.
His host sat back abruptly, and rubbed his forehead as if in an effort to straighten out his thoughts and determine just how much to tell this English stranger. It was then they both noticed Tammy had slipped silently into the room.
David turned his head her way and gave her a cold stare, expertly concealing the fact that he was struck by her beauty. Oscar had every right to think other men were hitting on his wife.
‘You must be the cock-hungry bitch we’re talking about,’ he said crudely, in keeping with the direct approach he had decided to adopt in the situation. The fact that neither of his hosts seemed shocked by his language was both encouraging and exciting.
Tammy was wearing a short black skirt beneath a white blouse and knee-high black leather boots. She was stunningly attractive, and fitted Oscar’s description of her perfectly except she looked a lot younger than he had said she was. She was staring fixedly into the fire.
‘Tammy,’ David said firmly, forcing her to make eye contact with him. She was obviously finding it difficult to look at him. ‘Tammy,’ he repeated, asserting his control over her through her name, ‘go and get me another beer while your husband tells me what a slut you’ve been.’
She opened her mouth as if to protest, but stopped herself.
Her rebelliousness and her reticence both appealed to David. He had not changed his opinion about her fidelity - in fact, he was almost positive now that she was being faithful to Oscar - and her obedience demonstrated a willingness to go along with her husband’s wishes that pleased him. As she began taking his empty glass from him, careful not
to let her fingers touch his, he held on to it waiting for her to look him in the eye again.
‘Make sure it’s a nice cold beer,’ he said, telling her just how cold he wanted it with his tone.
She nodded, and walked quickly back through the living room towards the kitchen.
‘Does she bring you a cream pie after her nights out?’ he asked Oscar loudly enough for her to overhear. His question stopped her in her tracks for an instant, but it was not shocked offence David read in her body language. Observing her reaction, he made a mental note to the effect that she was either preparing cream pies for her little hubby to eat, or she liked the idea. He would have to find out which it was.
Tammy returned much sooner than David had expected her to with an ice-cold beer. She was plainly nervous and unsure of what to do next, so he helpfully pointed towards one of the large leather chairs close to his.
She was now seated directly in front of the fire across from him, her lovely features gilded by the soft glow of the flames. Her bare knees shone between her boots and her skirt, and both men studied them hungrily. Her skin was smooth and tinged with gold, and the tension in the room was now almost tangible. David was aware that Oscar was already beginning to sport an erection, and his wife was also becoming excited, seemingly against her will. Her breasts rose and fell quickly inside her shirt as she stared intently into the flames. When the stranger sitting in her living room abruptly rose from his seat, his motion startled her and she clenched her hands tightly in her lap.
David had spotted a drinks cabinet in an alcove and decided it was time to make himself feel at home. He paused as he walked by Tammy, and lightly rested one of his hands on her shoulder. ‘Most of the whores I know like vodka,’ he informed her, and felt her tremble ever so slightly. ‘What would you like to drink?’
When she whispered, ‘Vodka,’ her husband moaned.
David poured himself a drink, and mixed Tammy’s vodka with tonic and ice. He ignored Oscar completely. She took the glass from him, and accepted a cigarette with a polite, ‘Thank you.’ He sat down again and lit one for himself, once again ignoring her husband. He smoked and sipped his drink in silence for a minute, feeding off the submissive energy both the man and the young woman in the room were emanating.
‘Cream pies,’ he said finally. ‘Do you think Oscar likes them, Tammy?’
‘I don’t know,’ she replied quietly.
‘Let me put it another way. Has he ever tasted one?’
This time she refused to answer him.
David looked at her husband. ‘You check her laundry basket for come stains and extra cream in case someone’s been greasing her pussy?’
‘I check, yes,’ Oscar replied, sounding both ashamed and excited. ‘I also check for traces of semen.’
‘What about her cunt? Do you ever check up there? Do you ever bend her over the couch or the table and put your hand up inside her to see if she’s been stretched out by some big cock, and to feel if she’s been sprayed?’ He saw Tammy cringing at this dirty talk, but he also noticed her suck passionately on her cigarette every time he said a crude word. Clearly, part of her loved it. ‘Do you ever spread her when she gets home?’ he went on. ‘She’s your wife, you know. Hell, you can strip the slut and spread her open any time you want to. You don’t do that?’
Oscar shook his head.
‘You’ve never pulled your fingers out of her snatch and found them covered in someone else’s spunk?’
Oscar hung his head. His face was flushed red from the increasing pressure of his excitement, which came from facing his best and worst fantasies, no matter how shameful and sordid they were.
‘The truth is,’ David continued, enjoying himself immensely, ‘you want to find her hosed down by some huge dick, but you’re just too scared to own up to it. You want some rough man to hold her down and give it to her hard, because you can’t.’ He looked at Tammy again. ‘Have you been out today?’
‘N-no,’ she stammered, ‘I haven’t.’
‘You haven’t been out anywhere at all?’ David’s voice was calm but demanding.
‘Well, I - I went to the grocery store.’
‘That’s all the time you sluts need,’ David said derisively. ‘You’ve probably been riding some guy all afternoon. Now stand up and take your panties off. If your husband doesn’t have the balls to check out your cunt, then I will.’
She looked at Oscar, but he stared back at her without expression. His mind was now locked on its own course, and she was not going to get any help from him.
‘Get up,’ David commanded again.
She hesitated another instant, before obeying him.
He reached out and ran his hands up the smooth skin of her thighs beneath her skirt to the top of her panties. He then pulled them all the way down her legs, and she stepped out of them quickly, almost as if she was afraid of tripping over them and falling into his arms. He then held the flimsy red satin in his hands for a moment before tossing it into the flames.
‘Now spread them,’ he said coldly.
Again she did as he instructed, and her husband looked on as another man’s hand once more slipped up into her skirt and made its way to her pussy. David knew at once that she was as tight as a virgin, but he spent several minutes enjoying the warmth between her sex lips, and the fragrant juice flowing over his fingers told him she very much enjoyed his expert touch.
Finally, he slipped his hand out from beneath her skirt and told her to sit down again, but this time with her knees apart. She obeyed him, and he caught a brief glimpse of her neatly trimmed bush. Then he looked at her husband.
‘She’s been freshly stretched, Oscar.’ It was not true at all, but David had no qualms about lying since he knew it was what they both secretly wanted him to do.
Tammy plucked her cigarette up out of the ashtray, and took a long drag from it before taking a quick sip of her vodka.
‘Has your husband ever eaten a nice and creamy spunk-filled pussy pie you and your lover made for him?’ David asked her, being intentionally crude to shock and unsettle them further.
Oscar was now surreptitiously rubbing his penis through his trousers while eagerly awaiting his wife’s response.
‘Yes, I have,’ Tammy whispered. ‘But Todd makes me do it.’
The answer took David by surprise, and made his penis stand at full attention as her unexpected frankness forced him to doubt his conviction concerning her innocence. Her performance as she sat straight-backed, almost primly, in the over-stuffed chair was either remarkably believable or she was telling the truth.
‘Todd says Oscar deserves it for not being able to satisfy me.’ She took another thirsty sip of her drink, and drew hard on her cigarette before blowing the smoke out rather like a pressure cooker finally letting off some steam. ‘He loves to do me before sending me home, and he always makes sure I’m full of his come,’ she embellished without need for further prompting from David.
‘Do you give him head, Tammy?’ he continued questioning her. ‘Do you suck his prick and let him come in your mouth?’
She exhaled a long cloud of smoke in his direction, and nodded.
‘Does he have a big, thick dick, Tammy?’ he pressed bluntly. ‘Is it so big you almost gag on him when you blow him?’
She nodded again, and yet her face remained beautifully expressionless as she drew on her cigarette.
‘Do you want it, Tammy? Do you want his dick filling you up like you know your pathetic husband’s can’t?’ David leaned forward in his chair towards her. ‘Do you live for it, Tammy, live for the feel of his big hard cock stretching your pussy open and filling you up?’
She was now visibly trembling, as if David’s words and dulcet tones were literally caressing her. She quickly stubbed her cigarette out in a crystal ashtray, set her glass down carefully beside it, a
nd let her hand burrow into her lap almost as if it had a life of its own and she was powerless to stop it. But it was not an easy task reaching her clitoris through her skirt, and she bit her lip in frustration.
David looked across at Oscar. He was leaning his head back against the couch, and his rigid penis had found its way out of his trousers. He was stroking its modest dimensions slowly and intently while obviously imagining his beautiful young wife squatting over the huge hard-on he could never provide her with.
While the husband and wife team enjoyed their synchronised and fantasy-fuelled masturbation, David set his glass on the fireplace shelf, stood up, and pulled his own cock out of his pants.
Oscar was away in his own world, but Tammy immediately fixed her eyes on David’s taught prick. She glanced across at her husband. All the dirty talk had gotten to her, and she was comparing sizes. Oscar lost without question. From now on, he always would.
David made his way to her, his penis rigid, the rift in his engorged head like a third eye staring blindly and rudely at her, because it did not see her personally; the only thing his erection cared about and wanted was her mouth and her pussy.
She took her eyes off it for an instant to look up at his face. Her expression was almost innocent in its excitement, as if some wondrous new game was being revealed to her that she was very much enjoying, but she was also looking to him like a child to an adult for guidance.
But there was to be no kind hand to guide her.
David was here to play a masterful role; a role he enjoyed playing very, very much.
He took hold of the base of his cock, and pulled back on the skin. The action had the effect of making his penis seem to grow even bigger, and made his helmet swell to almost painful proportions. With his other hand, he then took hold of her blonde hair and guided her mouth over his erection. She offered no resistance, and even used her free hand, the one not desperately stroking her pussy through her skirt, to cup his balls and squeeze them gently in time with his hips thrusting in her face.
On the couch, Oscar was in a trancelike state. His dreamy, slack-jawed stare seemed incapable of absorbing the reality of the act being performed by his wife with a strange man before his very eyes. The head of his small penis was almost purple from the pressure of the scene, and his hand’s response to it. Somehow he managed to stem the impending explosion, and David was rather impressed by Oscar’s control as he saw beads of perspiration meandering down the sides of the other man’s face. He looked like an addict discovering the drug he had taken all his life was nothing compared to the intoxicating chemicals jumping along the synapses of his brain now like a firecracker in a crystal glass. They were shattering his preconceptions of pleasure with the sharp and painful picture - neatly framed by the tastefully decorated living room - of his wife obediently sucking another man’s cock; a virtual stranger’s cock.
