I think I fussed over this dinner more than I haveA ever done for our Thanksgiving, Christmas or Easter dinners in years past. I had prepared a roast and potatoes as well as my mama’s coleslaw and my own creamed corn. For desert, I’d fixed a chocolate meringue pie – my specialty, always in high demand at Church suppers and the kids’ bake sales. Our dinner table was set with our best china and silverware – I even got out the good linen napkins that rarely saw the light of day outside of Christmas dinner.
I wasn’t wearing my Sunday best for the dinner, but rather a new dress I’d picked up the day before – a simple black dress, modest compared to many of my working outfits, with the hem a mere four inches above the knee and displaying only a little cleavage in its mild scoop neck, accented by the double strands of good, but fake pearls my mother had left to me. The fabric molded itself to my braless breasts, my nipples swollen and hard, making prominently displayed bumps. Beneath my dress, my lacy black panties were already soaked and I feared that at any moment I would feel the warm trickle of pussy juice running down my thigh.
Donnie lingered nearby, wandering into the dining room or the kitchen to give me looks of disgust and anger on occasion, the words “whore,” “slut,” or “cunt,” always on his lips and occasionally wafting to my ear in his venomous hisses. At least he’d put on dress shirt and his good slacks and looked presentable. I would smile back at him and tell him I loved him, occasionally glancing down to confirm the hint of an erection tenting his pants.
With the food prepared and looking absolutely delicious, the younger kids staying overnight with friends and my oldest daughter, Tara, about to leave to spend the night with her best friend and myself looking hopefully elegant and a little sexy, I glanced at the clock. It was just a few minutes shy of six o’clock in the evening and I let loose with a little sigh of relief.
As the old grandfather clock in the living room struck six, its chimes were countered by the ringing of the front door bell. He was here! I met Donnie in the hallway, his expression stormy and his fists balled in anger. “You fucking whore,” he growled. “I can’t believe you really did it. You invited that motherfucker to dinner in my house.”
I stood on tiptoe and bussed my husband on the cheek. “Our house, Donnie…that I’m paying for at the moment, thanks to him.” I walked on by him and then glanced over my shoulder, smiling happily as I said, “Well, c’mon. Let’s greet our guest.”
With Donnie slowly following me, I opened up the front door, my heart beating very quickly with excitement that I could feel all the way down to my loins which were pulsating with arousal. Our guest stood there and his appraising glance of me sent quivers of desire through me as I said happily, “Good evening, Mister Richards. Welcome to our home.”
#
“Mister Richards, would you like to come to dinner at our house Saturday night?”
I was standing at the door, about to leave the office of my bank manager, Mister Richards, feeling a bit nervous – almost like an awkward teenage girl asking a boy to go on a date. I was already feeling strange simply because during my entire visit, I had stayed dressed, sitting in a plush chair in front of his desk, chatting about my recent visit to Key West and my whorish triumph there.
I had arrived with the hope – no, hunger and need to suck the older man’s cock, something I had done twice a week for nearly a year without fail, but under doctor’s orders and the command of one of my more influential patrons, Gustav Stockman, I had been chaste for nearly three weeks – the recovery time deemed necessary after having sucked and fucked one hundred and eight loads from my winning a gang bang competition.
My employer had declined my offer to resume sucking his dick a few days early and had instead spent almost half an hour praising my sluttish ways, having revealed that he’d seen a recording of my gang bang victory. It didn’t upset me that copies of the DVD of my gang bang were being passed around – in fact, it made me even hornier. Finally, Mister Richards had dismissed me with a heavy sigh, a regretful glance at his pocket watch and then telling me, “I look forward to seeing you on Tuesday, my dear Sonya.”
I had gotten up and was at the door when I paused and turned back and worked up the nerve to invite him to dinner. Mister Richards looked at me for a long moment, studying me. “You mean, me coming to your house socially…outside of our business relationship?”
I nodded and said, “Absolutely. I would very much like to show my appreciation for all you’ve done for me and my family. I’m a good cook and…well, you already know where my other talents lie.”
What our business was and where my talents lay was that for the past year, I had served Mister Richards and a cabal of well off citizens of our town as a whore, offering sex in exchange for keeping our mortgage paid – the recession having cost me my job, and almost costing my family the roof over their head. My husband’s job had been cut back to almost half-time and we’d have never stayed afloat without my whoring paying for the mortgage and the substantial tips I got with nearly every job I was sent on.
Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays, I received assignments and on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I would give Mister Richards a loving blowjob. Strangely, he had never attempted anything more…staying as it were within the agreement we had established for our “business” relationship. It had taken the insight of one of my favorite customer’s daughter, Jane Stockman, to make me understand that Mister Richards would never expand on our activities within the confines of our agreement. From that simple explanation, an idea had been born in my mind, one that had grown over the last couple of weeks, complete with all the ramifications it entailed. Indeed, it had been some of those ramifications that had spurred me all the more to ask Mister Richards to come to dinner.
Mister Richards studied me for a long minute, his intense gaze making me wet for him. I’m sure some people would find it amazing that I harbored such ardent desires for a man hovering around sixty years old, with a pot belly and greatly thinning hair, a seemingly ordinary man. But…there was something about him, something that spoke deeply to the sluttish side of me…a confidence and a power that had captivated me since the day he had proposed I become a whore and work for him and his cabal and had then proceeded to command me to strip naked and suck his cock. Since that first moment when he’d awakened that realization about myself, I had ached to be his…to do whatever he bid me do.
Mister Richards smiled and nodded. “I think I’d enjoy such an evening very much. What time should I arrive, Sonya?”
I licked my lips as every fiber of my being wanted to crow with joy that he’d said, “Yes,” and I replied, “Would six o’clock be good for you, sir?”
He nodded and said, “Wonderful, my dear.” I turned to go, but paused when he called out, “Sonya, will your husband be there?”
I looked back at him, willing myself to sound calm as I replied, “Would you like him to be there, Mister Richards?” and then silently prayed for the him to give me the answer I wanted.
I think my employer could read my desire on my face because he gave me a big grin and replied, “Absolutely, Sonya. I think that would be most appropriate for the occasion. See you, Saturday.”
I walked away, barely noticing his receptionist, Lily Fox smiling speculatively at me as I left, so desperate was I to get to my car and get my hands under my dress. In the bank parking lot, sitting in my car, I had my fingers plunging in and out of my pussy, sobbing with pleasure as I thought of what I had done!
My announcement to my husband that we would be hosting our bank manager to dinner triggered the loudest and angriest argument of our marriage – so ugly that Tara had without bidding, had shepherded the younger kids into her compact car and had taken them out for ice cream while her father blew his top.
“NO WAY, YOU FUCKING WHORE, IS THAT MAN COMING IN MY FUCKING HOUSE. I SUPPOSE YOU WANT TO FEED HIM AND FUCK HIM TOO! I’LL BURN THIS FUCKING PLACE DOWN FIRST!” he had screamed, his voice becoming shriller with each word.
I stepped up into Donnie’s face and said firmly back, screaming at the top of my voice, “IT’S OUR HOUSE, DONNIE AND IN CASE YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED, THE ONLY REASON WE’RE STILL HERE IS BECAUSE OF MY WHORING WAYS. WE OWE THAT MAN EVERYTHING AND HE’S COMING TO DINNER AND IF HE WANTS TO FUCK ME UP THE ASS ON TOP OF THE DINNER TABLE, YOU’LL LICK MY ASS SO HE CAN SLIDE HIS COCK RIGHT IN!”
The yelling went on for awhile, with the usual variations about me being a slut and whore and me reminding him of who was the real breadwinner now. The argument came to an abrupt end when I suddenly reached out and grabbed Donnie’s crotch, confirming my suspicions about him being erect.
“He’s coming to dinner, Donnie, that’s all there is to it.” I said in a calmer voice. I squeezed his cock through his slacks, “You can call me a whore and fuck slut all you want. We both know it’s the truth, but we also both know that deep down, you like me this way. The thought of having Mister Richards over to dinner and whatever else he wants, excites you. Hell, Donnie, you’re ready to cum in pants right now!”
My words burst the balloon that was Donnie’s righteous indignation and for a moment I thought he would cry as his face clouded over with shame, but I knew that once again, I’d hit the nail on the head. Whatever else my husband felt about my being a slut for hire, there was a part of him that was aroused by being cuckolded and now for the first time since this had all began, he faced the possibility of seeing it done first hand.
I stepped into my husband’s arms at that moment and kissed him, his lips reluctantly opening up to my probing tongue. I would have liked to have fucked him right on the spot…I was almost at three weeks without cock and so horny, but I knew that he wouldn’t…I’m not sure he could anymore without knowing that another man had first been with me sexually. When the kiss ended, I whispered, “I am a fucking whore, Donnie, but I am your fucking whore. I love you and I know you love me.” I finished the kiss and then turned to leave for the kitchen to inspect the contents of the refrigerator. I looked over my shoulder at my husband and grinned, “Why don’t you go jack off and think about what’s going to happen.” I didn’t look back again, knowing as I heard him tromping up the stairs that he was going to be doing exactly that.
The next day and a half, Donnie scarcely said a word to me other than to hiss his insults my way. I was busy cleaning house and prepping for dinner. I called my kids’ friends’ mothers to arrange for sleepovers, explaining that we were having company and asked Tara if she could make herself scarce as well that night.
My daughter was more than a little curious, asking a few probing questions. “Mister Richards from the bank is coming for dinner, Mom? Isn’t he the guy you’re working for now?”
I smiled and nodded, “You could say that, honey. He’s part of a group I guess you could say I work for.”
Tara gave me an odd look, one that was heavy with speculation and a little bit of amusement. “So…is this dinner part of your work for him?”
I started to open my mouth to say yes, but I knew that that wasn’t true. I laughed a little and then shook my head before replying, “No, not really. This is personal. I suppose this is my way of saying thank you to Mister Richards. He kept us from losing the house and I imagine, so much more.” In my mind, I was wondering if I should tell her that without my job, we’d likely be unable to afford sending her to college in the fall.
That had satisfied her curiosity and she’d been a great help to me getting things ready, assisting in the kitchen and ferrying my younger ones to their sleepovers, allowing me to focus on getting everything ready for the moment Mister Richards came into our home.
#
“Mister Richards, you remember my husband, Donnie?” I had my arm tucked around Mister Richards’ arm as I guided him into our home. Donnie stood in the doorway, his hands now stuffed into his pants pocket, glowering at us.
The bank manager smiled and extended his hand. “Why of course. It’s been too long, Mister Hammonds. I remember fondly our last meeting.” He glanced at me with a sly grin. “That was when your lovely wife first proved her worth, as I recall.”
Donnie stared at his extended hand and then with an expression of great distaste, reached out with his hand and limply shook the banker’s hand. “Sir,” he said meekly.
I guided our guest into the living room, him studying his surroundings. “Lovely house, my dear, simply lovely. I understand your desire to keep it and how it must fuel your…enthusiasm for your work.” He paused and picked up an antique candy dish I’d found in a yard sale. “Exquisite, Sonya. I always suspected you had marvelous taste.” He paused and chuckled, “Or is it I also suspected you tasted marvelous?”
I giggled like a teenager girl at his teasing comment while Donnie just frowned. I offered him a drink and he surprised me by asking for a beer when I thought he might request something a little more refined. I fetched him and my husband beers and returned to find Donnie sitting in his easy chair, face flushed bright red and Mister Richards on the sofa, going on about me and my talents. “…I never suspected how well suited Sonya was for her vocation. I mean, I saw in her the raw talent, but never suspected she would take to it so heartedly.” After I handed out the beers, Mister Richards patted the sofa cushion next to him and I didn’t hesitate to sit down, pressing my mostly bare leg against his pin stripped trousers.
My employer continued singing my praises without pause, Donnie’s eyes widening in shock as Mister Richards dropped his hand calmly and possessively on my bare leg above the knee, sliding his finger upwards to expose more of my thigh while he said, “I don’t think Sonya’s ever gone out on a….an assignment that within a few hours, I haven’t received a call raving about how wonderful she is. I’ve never seen the like before, everyone, men and women both, amazed at her skills and her enthusiasm.”
Mr. Richards leaned forward and said, “I tell you, Donnie, your wife was born to be a whore!” As he spoke, his hands slid up under the hem of my dress, fingers easily finding my mound and feeling the heat and wetness soaking through my silky panties. I gave a little gasp as the tips of his fingers trailed over my labia, the silk molded to my lips.
Donnie’s mouth gaped open and for a second I thought he might throw his beer can at Mister Richards, but then we all heard a door shut upstairs and then footsteps coming lightly and quickly down from above. We all quickly came to our feet, me a little unsteady in my high heels as we watched my daughter come downstairs. I had completely forgotten she was still here.
Tara looked lovely as only a nubile eighteen year old girl can. She was dressed for a night’s dancing in a short sheath dress, strapless, the bodice barely containing her young, pert breasts, while her legs were made even shapelier by her three inch stilettos. Tara had her sandy blonde hair braided into a French twist that hung over her shoulder, calling attention to the exposed portion of her breasts that barely jiggled as she came down the stairs, smiling at us.
A quick glance around had me smiling with naughty amusement as I couldn’t tell whether my husband or our guest was staring at my daughter with the most lust. Of course, I felt some strange yearnings myself…not for the first time either since I had discovered my own enjoyment of women and heard others fantasize about me and my daughter.
“And who do we have here?” Mister Richards exclaimed, stepping forward to meet her at the base of the stairs.
“Mister Richards, allow me to introduce you to our daughter, Tara.” I smiled at my daughter as I moved to stand beside him. “Honey, this is Mister Richards…from the bank.”
Tara smiled shyly and offering her hand replied, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Richards.”
Mister Richards grinned wolfishly and said, “The pleasure is surely mine, my dear,” as he gently shook her hand. “I now know that your mother comes by her beauty honestly as I see you take after her.” It suddenly occurred to me that he shook her hand with the same one that had just been fondling my wet mound. I tried to keep myself from shivering with delight at that nasty realization.
My daughter glowed at his oddly phrased compliment and said, “Thank you. Mom is lovely, isn’t she?”
We stepped back to let her enter the room, almost surrounding her as Donnie moved up as well, his face a mixture of lust for his daughter and alarm at Mister Richard’s attentions towards her. “Will you be joining us for dinner, Tara?”
I could feel the hunger in his voice and was suddenly struck by almost overwhelming desires of my own, suddenly envisioning my daughter stark naked and spread-eagled on our dinner table, me licking Mister Richard’s semen out of her young pussy. I was snapped out of my dizzying fantasy by Tara’s voice, laced with a hint of flirtatiousness, as she replied, “Not tonight, sir. I already had other plans.” Tara smiled as she continued, “I wish I could, Mister Richards. Maybe another time.”
Our guest glowed with delight as he said, “I look forward to that, dear. I very much look forward to that.”
He released Tara’s hand and she stepped forward and kissed her father on the cheek, not shying away from pressing her partly unclad body against his chest, her bosom pillowing out as she leaned into him. She smiled at me and I thought I caught a hint of a wink as she leaned into me, her hand squeezing my arm as she planted a chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth and said, “I hope you all have a wonderful evening.”
She started to move towards the kitchen, but paused as she stepped past Mister Richards. “It was very nice to finally meet you, sir,” she said softly…even meekly, although I thought I could detect that hint of flirtatiousness still in her voice. “I know how much you’ve done for us. Thank you, Mister Richards.” Then she leaned into him, her father noisily grunting as she kissed him on the cheek.”
In the stunned silence that followed, Tara eyed us all and said with a smile as she walked away, “I love you guys. Enjoy yourselves tonight.”
For a moment, no one spoke and then as we heard the kitchen door close, Mister Richards spun around and beamed at us. “My compliments on having such a lovely daughter. Such wonderful manners for one so young – you two must be very proud.”
Donnie just glowered although I could see an erection tenting in his pants. My own arousal was growing as well as I considered Tara’s almost brazen behavior. I had long thought she had a good grasp on what I did for a living, but while I believed she understood, I wasn’t sure of whether she might actually approve. Now I had to wonder while the naughtiest thoughts flashed through my mind.
“Um, why don’t we move to the dining room, Mr. Richards?” I said, pointing the way where one end of our oak dinner table was set for dinner for three.”Of course, Sonya,” responded our guest, moving alongside me, his hand deftly slipping under the hem of my dress to cup my ass. I shivered with delight, feeling my nipples swelling even more under my dress. The moment was erotic to me in so many ways – realizing Mister Richards was being so brazenly forward and possessive and that Donnie, following along behind us, could not help but see him lay his claim and did nothing to stop him.
As we approached the table, I started to point to a seat on one side, but Mister Richards made himself at home, sitting at the head of the table where Donnie always sat. I glanced nervously at my husband who stood there, mouth gaping open at Mr. Richard’s naked gall, until our guest turned in his seat and said with good natured humor, “Come, Donnie, sit, man. I wouldn’t dream of enjoying everything your wife has to offer without you at my side.” He pointed to the seat to his left. “Sit down, man, sit down!”
Donnie stood stock still for a moment, his face so red, I thought he might stroke out, but then, his shoulders sagged slightly and without a word, he took his seat. I brought in the food and took the seat to Mr. Richard’s right. While in the kitchen, I was inspired to provide my guest with another surprise and had slipped off my panties.
As Mister Richards dined, I discovered that he was nearly ambidextrous, eating primarily with his left hand as he leaned to his right and his right hand stayed busy stroking my thigh and occasionally fingering my naked pussy. The first time his fingers brushed against my trimmed bush and then slithered down between my swollen labia, he raised his eyebrows and then gave me a pleased wink. He did little to conceal my wetness on his fingers as he would now and again bring his fingers to his mouth, shiny and dripping with my pussy cream, and suck them clean.
He seemed to relish every dish I served him, praising me loudly as he worked his way through my meal. We talked of all sorts of mundane things, of my other children and their efforts at school, Tara’s college plans and of how the local high football team was doing, through all of it, not getting more than a few grunts from Donnie who picked at his food and glowered at me throughout the meal.
Afterwards, we rose and I suggested we retire to the living room for drinks and cigars. I had called Lilly and had found out his favorite brand of cigars and where to find them. They were jaw dropping expensive, but after Key West, I felt more than able to indulge in such luxuries. Donnie declined one, but Mister Richards was more than pleased to accept a cigar, along with a snifter glass of decent cognac Lilly had recommended as well. I bent over in front of him with a box of wood matches, offering him his best glimpse yet of my breasts as the front of my dress gaped open. He smiled appreciatively as he brought his cigar to life.
He again patted the seat next to him and I scooted up beside him, his hand quickly reclaiming possession of my thigh, slowly sliding his fingers up and down my leg as the small talk continued. Donnie barely spoke a few words throughout the next thirty minutes or so as Mister Richards held forth on politics and economics, focusing greatly on how he expected our town to fare in the long run in light of the slowly recovering economy.
It was only when he asked Donnie directly about his company and how it was recovering from the recession, that my husband stirred above a nearly comatose state. “We’re doing alright. We’ve got a long ways to go, but we’re doing alright,” he said, his voice slightly defensive and suspicious.
Mister Richards blew firm rings of smoke into the air and replied, “I suppose you would know, my friend…but a man in my position hears things. Frankly, if I had stock in your company, I’d be selling it now. I would guess in another month or two…well.” He paused and shrugged. “Maybe things will work out, Donnie. Miracles do happen.”
I gave my husband a long and questioning look, but he refused to look into my eyes. I wondered what Mister Daniels might actually know and if Donnie knew it too, but had not told me.
The tension went up suddenly in the room, but Mister Richards cut through it like a knife as he laughed and said, “Well, no matter. I’d say you’ve nothing to worry about, so long as Sonya here has a taste for cock.” His hand slid between my thighs and two fingers slipped into my molten pussy effortlessly.
I groaned as he stirred his fingers around inside me, managing to somehow purr. “I love cock…I always will!”
Donnie’s look of dismay vanished as he resumed glaring at us again as I wiggled next to Mister Richards, his fingers feeling so damned good in my pussy. “Yes sir, what a fortunate day it was for us all when you two came into my office and accepted my offer.”
My guest beamed down at me and with trembling lips, I found myself rising, spurred on by his torturous fingers and a sudden need to kiss him. My lips pressed against Mister Richard’s, my tongue snaking into his mouth to be met and dominated by his tongue, a demon like snake of flesh whose movements alone made me feel slutty and aching to sin.
When the kiss was finished, I had somehow climbed up onto the sofa onto my knees, allowing Mister Richards to brazenly finger me in front of Donnie. The banker looked at my husband with a big grin. “I often think about that first time, my boy – that first time when I asked Sonya to strip naked and suck my cock. Do you remember, Donnie? Do you remember how easy it was for her, how she sucked me with such enthusiasm…such honesty? You and I were privileged, sir…privileged to watch the birth of a total and complete whore slut like your wife.”
Donnie sat rigid in his chair, his fingers clenched so tight, he might have drawn blood on his palm. Mister Richards pressed on. “Do you remember how much she enjoyed it, Donnie? How willing she was to be a slut? How she ate my cum like a starving woman and then rubbed my cock against her face?”
“Yes, I remember,” Donnie hissed through clenched teeth.
Mister Richards chuckled and replied, “Yes, of course you do. As I recall, you were sporting significant wood when you walked out of my office.” He took a puff from his cigar and then pointed it at my husband. “I imagine you were as shocked to be as turned on as you were watching your wife enjoying sucking another man’s cock.”
Donnie’s face was again a bright crimson and he stammered, “No…fuck no!”
I let out another moan as Mister Richards curled his fingers inside me, fingertips brushing upwards against my pussy wall, getting close to my g-spot. I felt my head spinning and leaned my head against his shoulder, eyeing my husband as an expression of erotic pleasure swept over my face. Mister Richards laughed and said, “Now, Donnie, two men who’ve shared this lovely creature as we have should never lie to each other. He leaned forward, his fingers still probing me as he said, “I bet you didn’t even get home before you had to have her suck you off!”
Donnie started to deny it, but stopped, his face now red and embarrassed as he recalled pulling into a deserted parking lot of a out of business service station, his hand intertwined in my hair as he forced my mouth onto his erection, making me suck him just as I had done to the banker. He looked down at his lap and at the betraying bulge tented in his slacks.
“Nothing to be ashamed of, man!” exclaimed Mister Richards. “Some men are born to command…” he paused and grinned proudly. “And some men are born to be cuckolds. You should be glad to discover your calling. I bet you’ve cum more in the last year than in all the rest of the years of your marriage.”
Donnie tried to raise his head up and deny it, but he sat there, head bowed while his lips moved silently. Only when I cried out with orgasmic pleasure as Mister Richards’ fingers found my special place and sent a sudden burst of ecstatic joy roaring through me, did my husband look up – just in time to see me suddenly ejaculate pussy juice, a great gush that splattered over Mister Richards’s hand to splash on the sofa cushions.
“Oh, Sonya,” Donnie moaned. “What the hell are we doing?”
Mister Richards chuckled again as his fingers kept probing. “Why she’s doing what she was born to do, Donnie…being a whorish slut.” He winked at my husband and said, “And you’re doing what you were meant to do – enjoy watching her being pleasured by another man.” As I quivered, leaning into Mister Richards, he slipped his fingers from my pussy and held them up to my face. He looked at Donnie and said, “Can you imagine her doing this a year ago, man? Lick my fingers clean, Sonya.”
Donnie’s eyes were wide with amazement, lust and anger as he watched me take all three of our banker’s cum covered fingers into my mouth and loving suck on them like a hard penis, licking them clean of my own creams.
“I think it’s high time you took off that lovely dress, my dear,” said Mister Richards in that confident voice of his…one that brooked no argument nor expected one to be given. I obeyed instantly, not hesitating as I stood up and pulled the dress over my head, leaving myself naked except for my pearls and my high heels. I smiled down at my banker and then over at my husband, my breasts heaving with desire and pleasure, my nipples so swollen that they hurt and my pussy dripping juices that made my thighs glisten.
“The pearls are a nice touch, you can leave them on. They give you a sense of whorish elegance, Sonya. Wouldn’t you agree, Donnie?” Mister Richards said as he reached out and slid his hand between my heavy breasts.
Donnie took several deep breaths before he replied, “She’s a whore alright.” He shifted in his seat, tugging at his crotch as if to maneuver his erection into a more comfortable position.
“And you love me for being one, don’t you, Donnie,” I gasped, my voice becoming a moaning cry as I said my husband’s name as Mister Richards’ fingers tugged and pinched a blood engorged nipple.
When Donnie didn’t answer, choosing to simply glare at us, Mister Richards frowned and said in that commanding tone, “Well answer her, man! Might as well be honest – do you love that your wife is a whore?”
“Donnie trembled and I could see the impact of Mister Richards’ voice had on him…like an alpha wolf cowing one of his pack. “Yes, I do,” he finally said in a voice almost too soft to be a whisper.
Grinning, Mister Richards got to his feet and said, “Well, it’s high time you saw first hand some examples of how much of a slut your wife can be.” He turned to me and said, “My dear, let us retire to the bedroom…your matrimonial bed as it were.”
An orgasmic shiver rippled through me and I moaned, “Oh yes, sir!” I took his hand and led him to the stairs, and he followed me up the steps, literally on my heels as I drew his hand back to my breast, his pelvis bumping up against my naked buttocks, his erection evident in his pants.
Midway up the staircase, he paused, pulling me against him as he looked down into the living room at Donnie who was sitting there looking pitiful in his easy chair and said, “C’mon, Donnie. I wouldn’t dream of leaving you out of the fun we’re going to have.” When my husband hesitated, Mister Richards hardened his voice and said, “Get up here, Donnie. You must play your part in this!”
Another thrill shot through me, partly from feeling Mister Richard’s free hand cup my mound from behind and partly from seeing Donnie slowly rise up from his chair and move towards the steps, dragging his feet, but unable to hide the erection in his pants. By the time he reached our bedroom, Mister Richards had instructed me to undress him and I was on my knees, untying and removing his shoes…then pulling off his socks before rising slightly to undo his belt.
As I pulled his dress pants off along with his boxers, Mister Richard’s cock sprung out – nearly eight inches of magnificently thick cockmeat, stiff and throbbing – and slapped me in the face. As Donnie stared balefully at me kneeling before our banker, Mister Richards turned and looked about the room as if assessing the situation. “Suck me, Sonya,” he commanded, “While I decide how to arrange things.”
With a gratified moan, I slipped my lips around his hard cock, relishing his taste after three long weeks. I could taste sweat, body wash and pussy as my tongue swirled around his cock head happily. “For God’s sake, man. Get out of those clothes,” he snapped at my husband. “One might as well be comfortable!”
I turned my head slightly to look at Donnie, realizing that I was showing him how enthusiastically I was sucking Mister Richards. He stared back and then shaking off his lethargy, quickly undressed. Mister Richards nodded approvingly at our king sized bed and then pointing at the upholstered straight back chair in front of my vanity, said to Donnie, “Here, move this to the foot of the bed. You will need a good seat to watch from.”
Donnie meekly obeyed while Mister Richards intertwined his fingers in my hair and held my head fast while he began pumping his cock into my mouth. Abruptly he stopped and helped me to my feet. “You have such a sweet mouth, Sonya,” he murmured appreciatively.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I said, feeling pleased at his kind words. “You taste wonderful too.”
He grinned and said, “Like that did you? I will pass your compliments on to my wife.” His grin grew wider at my look of astonishment. I had never even considered Mister Richards being married. I knew or at least strongly suspected he fucked his secretary, Lilly Fox, but I was sure that wasn’t her I had just tasted. He ran his thumb over my lips, resisting my efforts to suck it into my mouth while he added, “Perhaps someday, we’ll have you over for dinner, Sonya. My wife is a shy thing, but you and I could have some fun, I think.”
His words sent shivers through me, his tone saying maybe more than his actual words and again, his confidence and his strength seemed to shine from him and I felt myself grow wetter as he spoke. “I’d love that,” I murmured in reply.
That seemed to please him and he leaned into me and kissed me, his tongue snaking hungrily into my mouth while one hand cupped and squeezed my breast and the other again found its way between my legs to finger me, making me moan appreciatively. I closed my eyes for a moment, simply losing myself in the pleasure this older man was giving me and then suddenly remembering my husband was nearby, opened up my eyes to see him standing at the foot of the bed next to the straight back chair, looking both lost and aroused, his erection, while not small, seeming a bit puny next to the one poking my belly.
I wondered what evil might dwell inside me that allowed me to take pleasure from knowing that my husband stood there helpless as I stood naked in the arms of another man, kissing him the way I had only kissed my husband up to a year ago. I wondered what evil might be inside me that allowed me to take pleasure from knowing that my actions were so arousing to my husband.
Mister Richards finally broke the kiss, bringing three fingers up between us, dripping with my cunt cream. He licked his middle finger clean and then offered me all three to suck on. “Samples are nice, Sonya, but I believe its time I sampled your fine pussy directly,” he said a bit smugly.
Again, I was feeling incredibly aroused. I had conceived of tonight including a good fucking or two, but realizing that this man who I lusted for so greatly, wanted to lick my pussy, made me tremble and then gasp as a little orgasm hit me and I again ejaculated pussy juice, sending it splattering against his legs and down my thighs.
Laughing at my obvious excitement, Mister Richards guided me to the bed and laid me down on my back, my head resting near the foot of the bed. “Donnie, assume your post. You should be able to lean in and get a good view of things,” he directed my husband, who paused for a moment, but then as Mister Richards climbed awkwardly onto the bed, his pot belly and years making him a bit slow, Donnie moved to straddle the chair, his cock swinging back and forth like an excited rooster dancing about in courtship.
Mister Richards knelt between my legs and then slowly eased down until he was lying down, his face hovering over my pussy. I had my knees drawn back and spread. His hands roamed over my inner thighs, making me tremble with need as he teased me with brief brushing touches of his fingers against my spread labia.
“Please, eat me, Mister Richards,” I crooned, so anxious to feel his mouth on my sex. I trembled as I felt his warm breath blowing across the wet, exposed flesh of my cunt. I could sense his lips so close to my flesh, my body quivered in anticipation. Then he paused and raised his head and looked at Donnie, a growing smirk on his face.
“Donnie, stand up and help a fellow,” he said in that confident, ‘I know you’re going to do whatever I fucking ask’ voice of his. Rolling my eyes upward, I watched my husband stand, straddling the chair. “Take your wife by the ankles and spread her legs wide.
Donnie’s nostrils flared in anger and passion, but he obeyed, leaning over the bed, his cock now waving just above my face as he took hold of my ankles. “That’s the way, Donnie,” intoned Mister Richards as if he was teaching a lesson in accounting. “Spread Sonya’s legs wide, let me get a good look at her wet pussy.” Mister Richards looked up at me, my eyes wide at the erotic spectacle of it all and then he said, “You’re very wet, Sonya. Who are you wet for?”
Without hesitation, I said in a loud and clear voice. “I’m wet for you, Sir.”
My banker nodded and said, “Are you sure? You’re not wet for your husband?”
Again, without hesitation and never sparing Donnie a second glance, I replied, “No, my pussy’s wet for you, Mister Richards.”
I heard Donnie moan although with arousal or misery, I wasn’t sure. “I see, Sonya,” said Mister Richards in a pleased tone. “Why is that, Sonya?”
I flicked my eyes towards my husband’s pained voice and answered, “Because I want you, Mister Richards. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted another man. I want you to lick me and fuck me and cum in me and cum on me. I want to be totally owned by you. I want to be your whore, your slut with all my heart and soul.”
Mister Richards chuckled again and replied, “My whore…yes, you are, Sonya.” He glanced up at Donnie and said commandingly, “Now spread her legs a little wider…that’s it…now pull those legs back a little towards you…oh yes, perfect!” Without another word, Mister Richards mashed his face between my spread legs, his face burrowing into my cunt as I let out my first scream of the night as his tongue lashed out at my swollen clitoris.
The whole carnal scene served to send me into immediate orgasm. Mister Richards was tonguing my pussy like a master cunt licker, making me writhe with ecstatic joy while my husband held my legs spread wide for the banker, staring down as the older man tongued me and made me cum – not only watching another man pleasure his wife, but assisting him in his efforts.
Mister Richards’ tongue was a thing alive in and of itself, swirling through my sopping wet flesh like a dervish, feverishly licking me and then delving deep into the quivering sodden folds of my cunt and then torturing my clitoris with long, slow, expert licks, making gobbling noises as he slurped up the torrent of pussy cream practically ejaculating from my cunt.
I tried to keep my eyes fixed on Mister Richards’ bobbing face, but I couldn’t keep my head still, the extreme pleasure of his tongue making me roll and shake my head, Donnie’s face constantly flashing by, his gaze trying to take in and make sense of another man eating my cunt and making me sob and moan with such intense pleasure.
Donnie’s cock bounced about, occasionally striking my face, smearing precum over my forehead and cheeks as he leaned further in, trying to get the head of his cock to my lips. I started to open my mouth to suck my husband, but then I caught Mister Richards gazing up at me as his mouth worked its pleasure on my pussy and I said in a sing song voice, “May I have permission to suck my husband’s cock, Sir?’Mister Richards raised his face up from my quivering mound, his mouth, chin and cheeks shiny and wet with my juices and smiled at me fatherly like before slowly shaking his head. “Tonight as your guest, you belong to me, Sonya…your husband may not touch you. That privilege belongs solely to me.”
I thought I heard Donnie let slip a girlish sob of frustration as I replied, “Whatever you wish, Mister Richards. I belong to you, pussy, ass, mouth and heart.” Mister Richards chuckled happily at my submission and resumed eating me, his tongue doubling its efforts as he licked me to orgasm not once, but twice. My banker certainly knew his way around a clitoris – even my dear Jane couldn’t make me cum the way Mister Richards did, his tongue mastering my erect and throbbing nub, making me scream at the end, fingers clawing the bedspread as I flooded his face with my juices. My fingers slipped through his thinning hair, pulling his face more firmly against my pussy, wanting him to delve deep into my cunt.
For a third time, Mister Richard’s demon tongue made me cum, Donnie’s eyes boring into mine as I writhed on the bed, my body wracked by wicked pleasure. My breasts heaved and rolled as I gasped for breath when our banker finally eased his sweetly torturous assault on my cunt. “Love…I love your tongue, Mister Richards,” I sighed.
Mister Richards licked his lips, sweeping up remnants of my cream, his face shiny with pussy juice. “Certainly a pleasure, Sonya…you are a fine tasting woman.” He glanced up at Donnie, hovering above me, still holding my legs wide apart.. “I hope it was enjoyable for you as well, Donnie,” he said, his amusement thick in his voice.
Donnie grunted non-verbally, before he finally managed to say. “May I sit down, please?”
Mister Richards nodded and replied, “In a minute, if you please. I’m thinking we might need a little more assistance in a moment, but I think you may release your wife’s legs now.”
Donnie let go of my legs and I eased them down, still widespread on either side of my employer. Grunting with effort, Mister Richards raised himself up and moved on top of me, his body heavy on mine. It was a bit uncomfortable, but as I felt his hard cock between my legs, partially nestled in the wide cleft of my well eaten pussy, any discomfort was dispelled by my arousal and anticipation of finally being fucked by Mister Richards.
He pressed his cum smeared lips on mine, sharing my own taste with me as our tongues dueled and danced with each other. I could smell myself on him and I felt my blood race as it served to arouse me further. When he broke the kiss, I gasped, “Fuck me, Sir, please. Fuck me now!” I rolled my hips, aching to get that large, hard cock inside me.
“Gladly, my dear,” replied Mister Richards. He looked up at Donnie and then back down at me. Smiling he said, “I don’t think we should leave your husband out of this completely.” In a louder voice, he said, “I think it would only be proper if your husband put me inside you. What do you think, Sonya?”
I confess that I was momentarily wordless – stunned at his suggestion. Admittedly, from the moment I first thought of inviting Mister Richards to dinner, the idea of rubbing the cuckolding of my husband in my husband’s face had been prominent in my desires, but this idea of humiliating Donnie went beyond anything I could have conceived of and to both my shame and delight, the thought of my husband having to place Mister Richard’s hard cock in my cunt, so the old man could fuck me triggered new fires of nasty desire between my legs.
I tilted my head to look at my husband standing over us, my expression of shame and delight reflected in his face. His cock was jerking, becoming more erect as he reacted to Mister Richard’s evil suggestion. I felt amazement in the revelation that while the idea horrified him, it also aroused him. I found my voice and said, “I think that is a wonderful idea.” I paused, swallowed and then in my best approximation of Mister Richard’s commanding tone, said, “Donnie, come around behind and put Mister Richard’s really big dick inside my pussy. Do it now!”
For a moment I thought I saw pure murder in Donnie’s eyes, but then there was something else and I felt a thrill of erotic joy as I saw surrender in my husband’s face. He slowly came around to the side of the bed and climbed up below us. As Mister Richard’s chuckled, he rose up enough so that I could see between us, getting brief glimpses of my husband’s humiliated face as he reached out and gingerly wrapped his fingers around the older man’s erect cock. “Run Mister Richard’s big cock head up and down my pussy lips,” I commanded my husband.
I heard Donnie let out a brief sob as he obeyed me – dragging the swollen head of my employer’s penis up and down my wet labia several times, making me croon with pleasure and drawing pleased gasps from Mister Richards.
Finally, Mister Richards said in an anxious, but firm voice. “Put my cock inside your wife’s hot, wet cunt, Donnie.” Again, my husband obeyed promptly, as he pressed Mister Richard’s huge cock head into my wet flesh, slipping it into my cunt, prompting me to fling my hips upwards to swallow more of his long, hard cock. As I groaned with pleasure, Mister Richards said with a pleased voice. “That’s a good boy, Donnie. You may return to your chair and watch me fuck your wife’s brains out. Masturbate if you feel like it.”
I scarcely felt the mattress shift as Donnie climbed off because Mister Richards began thrusting into me with surprising vigor, driving his cock completely into me with his first thrust and pausing to kiss me before withdrawing and then repeating his movements again and again.
I was cumming in seconds, primed to orgasm by Mister Richard’s wonderful tongue and now thrilling to feel his long, thick penis filling my pussy again and again, burrowing deep inside my womb again and again. I threw my head back and let out a long cry of pleasure, my movement accidentally allowing me to watch Donnie return to his seat, already stroking his erection before he sat down as he watched another man fuck me.
I brought my legs up and tried to wrap them around Mister Richard’s back, but it created pleasure so intense, my legs dropped lifelessly back to the bed and I had to settle for wrapping my arms around his back, fingernails clawing his shoulders with every spasm of pleasure that rocked through my body.
As I had often thought while sucking the banker’s cock, I had been fucked by bigger and longer cocks in my brief whoring career, but I couldn’t recall when I had enjoyed a cock more. For some reason, my body simply responded to Mister Richard and his cock. Maybe it was the confidence and power that seemed to emanate from him. Perhaps it was that he was in a sense my master…the man who’d revealed to me my true self – unleashing the whorish slut within me, but for whatever reason, I was reveling in the sheer ecstasy that being fucked by him produced.
I responded to his hard and decisive cock thrusts by flinging my pelvis upwards to meet them, our bodies slamming together, grinding on each other’s groins as we merged into one primal rutting beast. Our kisses were passionate, sloppy, almost animalistic affairs as our tongues roiled together. As I began to cum a second time, my hands dropped to his fleshy butt, fingers digging into his meaty cheeks to urge him into me harder and deeper.
Ours was a wordless fuck, punctuated by grunts and moans and the wet slapping together of sweaty flesh. Every fiber of my body seemed to catch fire wherever his body touched mine, explosions of pure pleasure throbbed in my hard nipples as they dragged across his hairy chest, my pussy on fire as his cock sank deep inside again and again, my labia thrilling to the scratchy texture of his graying pubic hair. I was consumed by Mister Richards as he took me as his own…his slut, his whore, his woman, claiming me as my husband watched and stroked himself off.
Suddenly, Mister Richards growled, “Oh, Sonya!” as he shoved his cock deep into my cunt and then I was crying with pleasure as my third orgasm was triggered by a sudden flood of his hot semen filling up my womb. The world seemed to disintegrate around me as my body was consumed by holy fire, spreading pleasure through me from my toes to the very ends of the hair on my head, punctuated by bursts of ecstatic joy as Mister Richard shot wad after wonderful wad of his sweet, burning sperm inside my cunt.
I babbled in the midst of my ecstasy, “Love you…love your cock…oh God, so fucking good…Donnie, he fucks me so good…love his cock…love the way you fuck me, Mister Richards!” I was swept away by the insane pleasure that consumed me, feeling Mister Richards on me, in me, his lips, his tongue in my mouth…seeing his triumphant leer above my head, seeing Donnie looking at us with awe and terror, hearing him masturbating furiously between my own moans as Mister Richards gave my pussy a few last thrusts before he withdrew.
Then there was a great weight above me, on me as Mister Richards straddled my chest, wiping his semen and pussy juice soaked cock on my face, through my dark hair, on my forehead and cheeks and finally across my lips. “Suck me, Sonya,” he rasped, his own chest heaving from his efforts. “Suck me and keep me hard!”
I opened my lips wide and took him happily into my mouth, my tongue washing over his cock head, tasting his semen and my pussy and his spongy flesh, before I took more of him inside, licking and sucking, the taste of his cock enhancing my own waning pleasure – little aftershocks making me quake from his masterful fucking.
As he slowly regained his breath, his halting, gasping words, thrilled me as he addressed Donny, sitting just inches from my head, getting a bird’s eye view of me sucking Mister Richard’s cock like I had been starving for it. “You are such a lucky man, Donnie,” breathed Mister Richards. “To have had that fine cunt all for yourself all those years and now to discover how much more pleasure it brings you and especially her, to see other men have her…knowing they make her cum so much more than you.”
I heard my husband choke back a sob, but Mister Richards just chuckled again and said, “No need to be ashamed, man. Be glad…be joyful that you finally get to be fulfilled…that you finally understand the pleasure that being a cuckold brings you.” He looked down and sighed as he watched me bob my head back and forth, sucking him now with enthusiasm as my lips, tongue and wet mouth slowed the inevitable shrinking of his cock and restored it, brought it back, me moaning my pleasure at feeling his cock grown in my mouth, pulsating with renewed power and potential.
Mister Richards grinned down at me and then at Donnie. “I know you have anger, but really now, is it anger at your wife for discovering and accepting her destiny to be a sluttish whore or is it anger at comprehending how many years have been lost not being able to experience life as a cuckold?
“I knew immediately upon seeing Sonya obey me by stripping her clothes off that first time and hardly hesitating when I told her to suck my cock what she was…what she had the potential of being, but Donnie, I must say, I saw your potential too. Only a special kind of man could have sat there beside me and watched his sweet, innocent wife suck a virtual stranger’s cock like the harlot she really was. As horrified and as angry as you were with me…you were even more turned on. I saw the erection in your pants even before you noticed it.”
I shivered with delight as Mister Richards literally preached to my husband even as I sucked the older man’s penis. “Some of us are born to dominate, Donnie, to be obeyed and pleasured without question. Some of us are born to be sluts, pleasuring others without reservation. Some are born to be dominated, to be humiliated, to be forced to watch others use that which is dearest to their hearts.”
Mister Richards leaned forward, thrusting his cock deep into my throat, making me gurgle as he buried his cock in my face as he made his point. “Most people, Donnie, go through life never knowing which they are and are miserable and dissatisfied with their lives. Only the wisest and most fortunate are shown their true path.”
He climbed off me, his cock slowly emerging from between my sucking lips to emerge with a wet pop. “Up, Sonya, get on your hands and knees,” he said, slapping my ass hard enough to make me yelp in pain and surprise.
I came up, feeling a bit shaky from my still echoing orgasms, but I obeyed, spinning around at his hands’ direction to face my husband. With my dark hair hanging in my eyes, I gave Donnie a lascivious grin, both amused by my now frantically masturbating husband and aroused by his situation. I glanced over my shoulder to see Mister Richards awkwardly knee walking his way behind me and then take my ass cheeks in his hands and spread them slightly, tilting my ass upwards to give him better access to my semen filled pussy.
“Do you want me, Sonya?” Mister Richards asked, smiling evilly at me and at my husband beyond.
“Oh yes,” I moaned in response, wiggling my ass a little in anticipation.
Mister Richards moved closer, brushing the head of his cock up and down between my labia, smearing my juices and his semen on his penis then running it up towards my puckered hole before moving back down. “I already knew that, but maybe your husband doesn’t fully comprehend it. Explain it to him,” he said with wicked glee.
I turned again to look forward into my husband’s eyes as I smiled nastily and obeyed Mister Richards’ command. “Donnie, I want Mister Richards with all my heart and soul. I want his cock more than I’ve ever wanted cock before. I want to feel Mister Richards inside me, fucking me with his fine, big dick forever.” I paused and said with totally honesty, “I’ve never wanted to be fucked by anyone as bad as I want to be fucked by Mister RicharDDDDSSSS!”
My words ended in a harsh scream as Mister Richards rammed his cock home inside my cunt, sinking his entire cock into my cunt in a single thrust, forcing me to brace my arms from literally pitching over the bed and into Donnie’s lap, my heavy breasts swaying madly about like meaty udders.
After soaking his cock in the syrupy morass of pussy cream and semen within my pussy, Mister Richards began to fuck me, working brutally and swiftly as he plowed his cock into me again and again. Pleasure competed with pain for a few moments, my cries a mixture of both before pleasure became dominant, wracking my body with constant, near orgasmic level sensations.
I’m sure I was quite the wanton sight to Donnie, my mouth hanging open in utter, speechless ecstasy, my eyes glazed with erotic delight while sweat broke out, making my pale skin gleam like porcelain, running down in rivulets over my tits to fall on the bedspread beneath me. Behind me came the constant sweet sound of flesh slapping flesh as Mister Richards fucked me relentlessly, slowing only to prolong my journey to another orgasm, always telling me and Donnie what a sweet whore I was and urging me to share my every feeling with my husband.
Donnie’s hand was a blur as he masturbated, his face a constantly changing board of emotion – anger, delight, humiliation and awe as he watched the older man pleasure me and make me sob with pleasure as he never had. At Mister Richards’ prompting, I did share all my sluttish feelings whenever I could get the words out of my mouth. “I love his cock, Donnie. Mister Richards is so big…bigger than you. I love how he makes me feel…how his cock makes me feel. I love being his slut. I love fucking strange men because he tells me to. I’d fuck them night and day in front of you if he asked me so long as it meant I could suck his cock and eat his cum, feel it hot and sticky on my face…on my tits and in my hot cunt.”
Time and time again as Mister Richards fucked me, my voice would rise till I was screaming until I was a cumming, hysterical mess, lost in orgasm while shouting out, “FUCKKKKK. I LOVE YOU, DONNIE, BUT I LOVE MISTER RICHARDS’ COCK MORE! I LOVE HIM INSIDE ME, IN MY MOUTH – ANYWHERE HE WANTS TO PUT IT. I’M HIS CUNT, HIS WHORE…I’M HIS, I PRAY FOREVER!”
My words seemed to inspire Mister Richards who fucked me all the harder, making me scream my obscene praises of his cocksmanship into Donnie’s face while I had orgasm after orgasm. Mister Richards, apparently in better shape than his fleshy body would indicate had become after his first climax, a fucking machine. He was busy playing with my body as well. One hand was tightly squeezing and mauling my breast while the other one was busy doing nastier things. As he fucked me, his he would slide one or two fingers into my gorged cunt along with his cock, scooping up pussy juice and semen and then withdrawing his hand, he began to apply it to my asshole, using it as a lubricant to help ease his fingers inside.
My heart was pounding and my head was spinning as I began to comprehend what we were building up to. His fingers probing my anus, sent quivers of nasty delight coursing through me, adding to my sexual pleasure like gasoline thrown on a fire. I knew that I was about to experience Mister Richard’s cock in my ass and the thought alone kept me hovering near orgasm, but he knew what he was doing and heightened my excitement by not telegraphing his moves…teasing me by withdrawing almost completely from my clasping cunt, only to thrust deep into me again.
It came without warning as suddenly my pussy was empty of cock and I hadn’t even steeled myself for it, when Mister Richards expertly had wedged the head of his cock, slick with my juices, into my sphincter and then he was tearing and sliding into me. I screamed with pain and pleasure, my body seeming to collapse with my arms and legs giving way, but Mister Richards had his arm around my waist and kept my ass hoisted in the air, perfectly positioned as he never stopped and with an agonizing slow and sweet momentum, buried his cock up my ass.
My screams were muffled as I cried into the bedspread, but once he was buried completely in me, Mister Richards reached down with his free arm and yanked my head back by my hair so my husband could see my face, ecstasy and agony etched there as he began to fuck my ass.
Again, as he wormed his cock in and out of my asshole, Mister Richards urged me to tell Donnie how he made me feel and I did the best I could, considering that it seemed every other minute, waves of orgasmic pleasure were washing over me, extinguishing most of the pain, saturating my body with the need to feel Mister Richards inside me. “Love his cock, Donnie…love him like no-one else. Want him to fuck me…love him fucking my ass, pussy…he’s the best…a real man like no other.”
I was sobbing through my words now, the pleasure so intense it made me cry, stirring up emotions within me that were so decadent, so nasty. Donnie was crying too, his cock an angry purple as he jacked it off, not seeming to be able to cum for some reason. I was too caught up in the pleasure that being Mister Richards’s whorish fuck-toy was producing inside me to be able to comprehend it…my world quickly dwindling away till there was only my pleasure wracked body and that wonderful cock buried inside me and then I let out a final, shrill, husky scream as I felt his cock swell up and then he was ejaculating in my asshole, filling my bowels with another big load of his hot, thick semen and all the pleasure before paled at the orgasm that now blew me apart, coming as a blanket of hot darkness that swallowed me whole and left me adrift in a universe of pure carnal ecstasy.
I regained my senses slowly, eyes opening to take in my bedroom, but not recognizing anything for long seconds. I found a man sitting on a chair, naked, his cock swollen as he gazed lovingly and angrily down at me. My Donnie, my dear, dear, cuckolded Donnie. Another man was speaking and I groggily turned my head to see another man dressing, buttoning up a shirt, but naked from the waist down, a semi-erect cock, smeared and gleaming with love juices swaying hypnotically as he moved. Mister Richards…my employer, my master, my greatest lover ever. My heart began beating again and my aching pussy and asshole tingled in anticipation of more.”More,” I whimpered in a hoarse voice. “Please, Sir…more.”
Mister Richards turned and smiled down at me. “Ah, Sonya, back amongst the living, eh? He came over and patted me on the head, his cock gently brushing against my nose. I tilted my head to get it in my mouth, but cried out in dismay as Mister Richards moved away.
“Please…” I said, using a little girl’s voice I’d not used in thirty-five years to get my way. “At least, let me suck your cock clean.”
Mister Richards laughed and shook his head. “Now, now, my dear. You’ve been a delight and fucking you again would be wonderful, but there are limitations to how much my stamina and medicine can do and we wouldn’t want to deny Mrs. Richards of her little pleasures.” He winked at me and I felt a fresh sensation of sinful delight ripple through my well fucked body as I realized that he had all but told me that his own wife would be sucking his cock clean of our combined juices. Somehow, between that and his admonition that we’d done enough satisfied my need to have him again, if only for the moment.
He continued dressing as he said. “I cannot believe how much I enjoyed being your guest tonight.” He paused as his glance went back and forth between my husband and myself. “I was just telling Donnie that I looked forward to doing this again…and again.” He grinned and said, “I’m sure I could arrange my schedule to visit you both maybe every fourth Sunday.”
I looked at Donnie, now idly stroking his swollen cock while he looked downward into his lap and slowly nodded. I looked up at Mister Richards and realized that he wasn’t really offering to come visit us once a month, he was essentially commanding it. I had no reservations as I promptly replied, “Oh, Mister Richards that would be heavenly. I…we’ll be counting the seconds.”
Mister Richards finished dressing and I slowly rolled over onto my back as he came up to me and then bent down and gave me a long and loving kiss. When it ended, he remained in place, his face scarcely an inch from mine. “You are an exceptional woman, Sonya,” he whispered. “The finest slut to ever spread her legs for me.”
I felt tears mist up in my eyes, knowing that his sentiments were likely as close as he’d ever get to saying “I love you,” but making me ache for him all the more. “When I dream of cock, I dream of you, Mister Richards,” I replied softly.
My answer pleased him and he kissed me gently one more time and then said, “I’ll show myself out. Sonya. I look forward to Tuesday as always.” He turned and smirked at my husband, saying casually as he strolled out our bedroom door, “Donnie, she’s all yours.”
As I heard him going down the stairs, I slowly pulled myself up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Donnie and I stared at each other silently as we heard the front door open and then close. Quiet moments followed, interrupted by the sound of a car starting and then pulling away.
For long minutes, my husband and I looked at each other, not saying a word. I knew that once again, we’d passed a point of no return…my naughty plans of cuckolding him having evolved into something else. Finally, I opened my mouth and got the word, “Donnie,” out of my mouth before he literally sprung from his seat and was standing before me, his arms reaching out to grip my shoulders tightfully…painfully.
“FUCKING SLUT!” he sobbed, his erection so intense it slapped up against his belly like it had when he was a teenager. “WHORE – FUCKING CUNT WHORE!” he screamed as he flung me over, throwing me onto my belly, bent over the bed, his hands digging into my buttocks to tilt them upwards and then he had a hand around his cock and was guiding it into my pussy, thrusting hard into my juicy, sperm filled pussy.
I groaned with pleasure…not so much from his average sized erection as from the sensitive condition Mister Richards had left my pussy in – my pleasure born as much from echoes of the older man’s cock as from my husband now thrusting into me.
“I HATE YOU!” Donnie sobbed as he pounded his cock into me, his hands scrabbling at my back before getting tangled in my dark hair, yanking them as he continued, “I FUCKING LOVE YOU, SONYA…YOU WHORE…YOU SLUT…FUCKING LOVE YOU!”
I felt a swell of love for my husband inside me even as I also recognized that while I was aroused in the moment, it was a pale imitation of what I’d felt while being fucked by Mister Richards…or my many other illicit lovers. Still, this was my husband and I groaned and thrust my hips back at him as he quickly fucked me. His orgasm was quick and powerful, having been somehow denied to him until now. I cried out with pleasure as I felt his seed flow into me, joining with the cum already deposited there.
It dawned on me that I knew why he’d been unable to orgasm earlier as Mister Richards had had his way with me. It was as it had been for months. Donnie never fucked me anymore unless others had fucked me first and I understood. This was the ‘cuckold’s curse,” an inability to reach climax until others had gone first.
“Feels good, don’t it, baby?” I giggled as I felt my pussy muscles clamp down around his ejaculating cock. “All hot and squishy with all of Mister Richards’ spunk in there.
I heard Donnie gasp and then he was pulling out of me and his hands reached out to tug me around by the hair of my head. “You like it so much, bitch,” he sobbed, “Clean it off me!” He thrust his cock, still hard and covered in semen and pussy juice, into my face.
I threw myself backwards onto the bed, grabbing his hand and propelling us both back to sprawl atop the wrecked bedspread. I spun around and threw my leg over his torso, and scooted back to straddle his face. In a voice akin to that of my employer, I snapped back at Donnie, “I’ll clean your cock if you lick my pussy clean, BITCH!”
I sat down on my husband’s face, mashing my cum filled cunt against his face while I took his cock in my mouth. Donnie froze for a moment in shock as he felt my tongue and lips wrap around his cum covered cock, not struggling until I worked my hips to rub my pussy flesh over his face, smearing semen and cunt cream everywhere.
For a brief second, he started to throw me off, but I pushed my mound down more firmly and brushed his cockhead with my teeth just to remind him who was really in control. I felt him tense and then relax. A moment later, his hands were holding my ass cheeks steady as his tongue slithered between my labia to delve into the thick globs of semen deposited in my pussy. I moaned around his cock, both from the pleasure produced from the sensation of his tongue on my sensitive cunt flesh and from the satisfaction of knowing my Donnie – my husband, had yielded to my expectations.
What followed was a fevered bout of sixty-nine on both our parts. I gave my husband the most soulful head I could muster, wanting him to know and understand that beyond the cuckolding, the humiliation, and all my whorish behavior, I did still love him. Donnie, on his part, seemed at least for the moment to accept his role too, to submit and seemed to be enthusiastically eating me out, licking me clean of his semen as well as that of Mister Richards and I think his submission was complete as I felt his hands spreading my ass cheeks apart and this tongue slithering from my quivering pussy to probe my cum filled asshole.
In the wee hours of the morning in the aftermath of our perverted lovemaking, we lay cuddled together, reeking of the evening’s carnal moments and talked softly about what had happened and what lay ahead. “I can’t believe I feel this way,” murmured Donnie in a soft, almost stunned voice, his head resting on my breast.
“What way is that?” I replied, stroking his hair idly as I recalled every decadent moment of the evening.
He was a long time answering. “Being so…turned on even when you and…him were…humiliating me like you did. I’ve never been so pissed off or hard in my life. My dick was so hard, it hurt.”
“Do you regret that I let it happen? If we could turn back time, would you do things differently knowing how much this excites you?” It was a question that somehow fascinated me, wondering if Donnie, now knowing what he did, felt as I did, that absolute realization that there could be no going back.
Donnie let out a long suffering sigh before he said, “I don’t know. It kills me, Sonya, every time I know you’re fucking someone else, but that knowledge makes me so hot…so turned on, I’ve got a hard-on the moment you leave the house in your whore outfits.” There was another long silence and then as his hand found its way into mine and squeezed tightly, he said, “I guess the genie’s out of the bottle. There is no going back.”
I smiled in the darkness of our bedroom and replied, “No…there is no going back.”
“I’m going to hate you for being such a fucking slut, Sonya.” His voice was edged with something on the border of misery and delight.
“I know,” I replied.
“I’m going to love you for being such a fucking slut, Sonya.” That almost surreal edge in his voice hadn’t changed.
“I know,” I replied again. “And you know that every moment I’m with another man or woman – that every time someone makes me cum my brains out, I still love you too, Donnie.”
He said nothing for a long time before saying in a meek, defeated voice. “I know.”
I kissed his forehead and yawned before saying, “Then somehow, we’ll get through it. I think we’ve just scratched the surface of what we really are and what we’re capable of, babe, but we’ll deal with it as it comes. Just remember that I love you.”
Donnie didn’t reply, but of course, there really wasn’t much more to say. I slipped into sleep, satisfied with our night’s adventures, knowing I would be dreaming of lewd and nasty things still yet to come.