Suddenly, without any warning at all, Steve appeared at my back patio door. I yelped in surprise and clutched my breast in shock. Steve was a colleague of my husband's. They worked together back in the main office in Brisbane before we moved west to the regional town where we have been living for nearly a year.

Steve was an older man, in his late 40s. Hubby shared me with him. He was a voracious lover, and demanding, powerful and passionate. He dominated me with his cock, and sex with him bordered on the painful, but was always exciting.

"Oh, hi Steve," I stuttered, not really knowing what to say, "It's been a while." I felt even more awkward when he spoke not a word as he came towards me. I was almost panicking.

"Too long, maybe?" he replied a little coldly.

The sound of his voice gave me such mixed feelings. Memories leapt to mind of searingly hot sessions of lovemaking, thoughts of which caused my head to throb with lust and my womb to give a slight spasm. Simultaneously, flashbacks intruded on my mind's stage of powerful dominance that crept to the edge of perversion.

I tried to deflect. "Are you here to see Craig? He won't be home for a couple of hours."

"I have not come to see Craig," he replied almost robotically.

His hand lashed out and grabbed me firmly by the wrist. He pulled me close so that I fell to his chest. He spun me around and held me tightly so that I could feel his rampant cock nudge my butt. It was familiar. I knew that feeling well.

"So, Mrs Huttly," he snarled into my ear from behind, "are you happy to see me?"

He wrenched me around to face the large mirror on the other side of the family room. "Or should the question be, 'Is your pussy happy to see me?'" he whispered.

I was only wearing my short, light sundress and panties beneath. They would offer little protection against his insistent hands.

"Pull your dress up, I want to see," he ordered.

"Not here! The neighbours might see," I resisted.

He grabbed my hair and yanked it back. "Do it!" he growled.

I watched his face in the mirror as I relented and slowly raised the hem of my dress to expose what lay beneath. His eyes narrowed with lust as I did so.

"Ah, just as I thought," he sneered. "Little white panties. White for your purity. White for your marital fidelity. White panties pushed aside on a regular basis for my cock to fuck your sweet married pussy. Hmm, I think I have some unfinished business with your pussy today, slut-wife."

"Not here! We are in sight of next door," I whimpered in return, but I knew it was hopeless. The cause was lost. I knew that soon enough he would defile me with his cock. The very thought alone caused a surge of lust to course through my mind. I would lose this battle.

I saw in the mirror his dark strong hand slide down my belly to my panties. I gave a little involuntary thrust of my hips with anticipation. I began to pant, just a little.

Oh God! I need this! But...

I stood there weakly, held up in one hand by Steve who now cupped my panty-clad pussy in his other hand. I trembled with lust and became teary with conflicting emotions.

"Pull your panties down, slut-wife!" he barked.

"But," I mumbled weakly in reply.

"Do it!" he snarled.

I eased the panties halfway down my thighs and stood trembling with anticipation for what I knew would come next.

He slid his strong fingers down my trimmed bush, over my mound of Venus, past my inflamed clitoris and deep into my now sodden vagina. The effect was immediate. My panting heightened and tightened and sped up to my familiar squeaking. A strong hormone-driven spasm lurched through my womb, taking away both my breath and my reason. My body was now ready for breeding. All it needed now was a man's cock to intrude and pump its seed into my married womb. But that would have to wait. All I had intruding me right now were a couple of Steve's fingers.

I bucked, writhed, squeaked and thrust through the orgasm. I squirted. Steve's fingers were now coated with my liquid and his hand now made an obscene slapping noise as he thrust his fingers into my pussy. I finally calmed down but I lost all my strength and collapsed. I would have fallen to the floor had Steve not scooped me up in his arms.

"Bedroom! Point!" he ordered curtly.

I was now going to my ultimate surrender and was resigned to that fact. Without saying a word, I weakly pointed in the direction of the master bedroom. Steve carried me there forthwith and threw me onto the bed. I plopped down, with my sodden panties halfway down my thighs and my little sundress around my waist. I was completely exposed and felt very vulnerable, so I tried in vain to restore some semblance of modesty.

"Oh no, you don't," murmured Steve as he yanked my panties away from my clutching hands and down to my ankles, "I'll take you just like this." He threw my panties to the floor and unbuttoned and dropped his pants. Hid glorious cock sprang to attention and pointed at me like a weapon. Not as long as some, it was thick and heavy and would stretch my pussy snugly. Each thrust would bottom out in my married womb and his balls would slap against my pussy.

He dragged me to the corner of the bed and commenced sliding his rigid cock up and down my wet pussy, teasing and taunting me. I knew what this meant. I knew that come what may, no matter how I fought against my own lust, I would orgasm as soon as he thrust his thick cock into me. And I would lose all control.

Then it happened. He grabbed me by my waist and rammed his rigid penis into me. I gasped and arched my back, pushing my hands against the mattress as if somehow I could make his cock go deeper. He slammed into me three or four times, his balls slapping against my butt deliciously with each thrust.

Then he withdrew.

Damn him!

I had passed the point of no return and he just stood there, hands on hips with a gloating smile as I thrashed out my orgasm. I clamped my thighs around an imaginary penis and thrust hard at nothing. I panted and squeaked at each spasm. Then I squirted a little, just enough to wet the sheets beneath me. I was so frustrated.

He waited as he always did, rigid cock pointing at me menacingly, glistening wet from my pussy. He grabbed me roughly and turned me over onto my tummy. He pulled my hair. He smacked my butt. He wrenched my arms behind and held my small wrists in one of his powerful hands. Then he mounted me.

Kneeling on either side of my thighs, he thrust his slippery but erect cock between my butt cheeks. Most of his weight had now pinned me to the bed and I was completely at his mercy. One hand had both of my wrists pinned behind my back and his other hand pinned the back of my neck. Then he penetrated me.

Oh God!

It was not so much his thick cock filling me in this position that proved to be my next tipping point, nor was it the fact that he held it still but throbbing inside my womb; it was what he said to me. He pulled me up by my hair high enough to see my own face in the bedroom mirror. He spanked me hard on my butt. I flinched.

"Look at your face, bitch!" he growled. "You cheating bitch!"

I gulped and looked at my tear-stained reflection in the mirror.

"You're a slutwife! What are you?" he snarled. He withdrew his hard cock and placed it against my little butthole.

"I'm a slutwife," I whimpered.

"I'm gonna fuck you up the arse!"

"Please fuck me in the arse," I cried. He was big and I had only done this once before and it hurt a bit.

"I'm gonna fuck you where even Craig doesn't go," he said, referring to my husband.

I'm a small girl and I have to be very wet to take on large cocks in my pussy at the best of times, but my butt is just far too tight. In the past, Steve would play with me there, sometimes inserting his finger or even a thumb. One time, however, he got a bit carried away and shoved his cock inside my virgin arse. Although it hurt a bit, there was a perverse pleasure for me in being so completely dominated in such a coarse way. I ended up having an orgasm at the feeling of total surrender.

He spanked me again. "Get ready whore-wife!"

I could not speak. In reply, I simply panted with lust.

He locked my thighs down and pinned my back with his weight. I felt deliciously trapped. Then he started to enter me. I was right; he was big. First came the smooth head. I stretched enough to allow it to enter me. Then he slowly finished the job. He was inside me.

I was gulping with lust and a touch of pain. I could not tell if it was pain tinged with lust, or lust tinged with pain, but I was moving irrevocably towards an orgasm. When he slipped his hand under my hips and found my pussy, that was my tipping point yet again.

But Steve could read my body well enough to sense my impending orgasm. Once again he withdrew his cock. Once again I arched my back, writhed and thrashed. Once again, I gripped my pussy mound with both hands and clenched my thighs tightly as I thrust against a cock that was not there. And, once again, I whimpered, squeaked and squirted with each orgasmic convulsion.

As usual, Steve just stood there with a smirk on his face.

I lay on my back, hips thrusting, lusting for his cock to enter me again. I was beyond shame. I needed him to fuck me hard.

He dragged me by my legs off the bed and I tumbled to the floor. My sundress was under my armpits and my panties had long since disappeared. He dragged me around roughly so he could see himself in the large mirror as he knelt between my weak and shaking legs. His cock was engorged and ragingly hard. Then he fucked me.

He did not make love to me, he did not have sex with me. He fucked me. It was hard and deep. It was messy. I was dominated hard. He bit me, pulled my hair, and groped my breasts. He gripped me around my throat. He called me names. I loved it.

I do not know how long he fucked me on the floor but when I came he pinned me so that I could not thrash. This transferred the convulsions to my hips and tummy. He enjoyed that. I bathed his plunging cock with my pussy juice. He enjoyed that too.

When he finished in me, he did it with a deep growl and a powerful thrust that went deeper than I had yet experienced. His cock throbbed, and he held it still so that I could enjoy the feeling of load after load of his potent seed gushing into my womb.

When I woke up it must have been at least an hour later. My husband Craig was standing at our bedroom door calling my name. I realised with mild shame that he was piecing together the events of the afternoon: my panties missing, my dress still out of place, my married pussy leaking Steve's semen.

And written on my tummy in large red letters with my lipstick were the words, "I fucked this slut in the arse." And he had signed it with his initials, "S.A."