Latest Forum Posts:


His Wife, My Toy: Part 3

It's Cuck's birthday, but the pleasure's all mine...
Friday May 30 11:45
It’s Cuck’s birthday today. I know because Pet, his wife, told me not long before I delivered a mass of hot spunk over her lips the other day. They’re having friends over this evening. I’m not invited. It doesn’t matter.

Lunchtime is approaching and I have ideas. I take out my mobile and phone Pet.

“What do you want?” she asks, sounding a little breathless.

I ignore the question. “Where are you?” I ask.

“I’m at home. I’ve got the day off. I’m getting things ready for this evening.” Just as I expected.

“What are you wearing?”

There’s silence. Then, “Just an old dress. Why?”


Silence, then, “Of course. What kind of woman…”

“Take them off.”


“Take them off. I’m coming over.”

“But Cuck isn’t here.”

“So much the better.”

“I’ve got things to do.”

“I won’t stay long.”

There’s silence. A long silence. “You made me feel very ashamed the other day.”


“Yes.” Again silence, then, “I never do that, you know. I never let Cuck do it. He was insanely jealous.”

I relish the moment. “You never let him cum on your face, you mean?” This is getting better and better.

“No.” A pause. “I’m not some slut, you know. You made me feel like a slut.”

“Just get those panties off, Pet. And expect a visit.” I cut the call.

Since I run my own company from home, there’s nobody to get on my back for taking time off. I drive steadily, carefully. If Pet has to wait a little longer than expected, well, that might be all for the good.

She opens the door in a light dress, rubber gloves on hands. “What if somebody sees you?”

“Then say I’m delivering some service for the party.”

She stands to one side and lets me in. She looks apprehensive, but there’s a little more decisiveness about her nonetheless. “You shouldn’t be here,” she says.

I walk further into the house, Pet following behind. “Nice place,” I say, scanning the living room.

“What do you want?” Pet says.

I turn, she averts her eyes as I look at her. “What you want,” I say.

“But Cuck’s not here.”

“So much the better.”

“But the idea was for…” She squeaks.

I’ve reached out and lifted her dress. “Nice,” I say. “I’m glad you’ve done as I said, Pet. It tells me you’re up for this, whatever you may say.”

“Cuck isn’t here,” she repeats, as if she’s lost for what to say.

I stroll further into the living room, leaving her to follow, to stand shifting on her feet, wondering what to do. “Remember Monday evening?” I say.

She nods, looking bashful ashamed. “That was then.”

“And Wednesday, in my car, when you asked me when I was going to fuck you?”

“But I thought…”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, Pet. Before I leave here, I’m going to fuck you.”

“Don’t do this,” she whispers.

“Why not, Pet?” I say. I close in on her, stroking her neck with my fingers. “We both know you want it. We both know it will happen. You’ve practically begged me for it, after all.”

“I have not!” she protests.

“Pet, Pet,” I say. I grip her wrist. She tries to pull it away, but I just tighten my grip, pulling her so that she stumbles in my direction, in the direction of the couch.

“Not here!” she gasps. “It’ll stain!”

I grin. “See, Pet. We both know it’s going to happen.”

She blinks. “If I let you… have your way with me. Will you leave me to get on with things?”

“Of course!” I say, all generosity and expansiveness.

“Kitchen,” she says, suddenly taking the lead. I follow her out of the room, a short distance down the hall. She’s already turned around to face me when I enter the kitchen. “What you said on Monday,” she says, then her eyes aim downwards as that bashful look comes over. “About… About licking…”

“About eating you out?”

She nods, not looking at me.

“Oh I mean it,” I say. “I want to taste you very much indeed.” I step forward giving her a little push, forcing her backwards, then another, until she backs into the fridge.

“What are you doing?” she gasps.

“I really do want to taste your sweet little pussy,” I tell her. She’s not looking at me at all, her head aimed sideways as my hand shoots up under her dress. “But we don’t have time right now.” My fingers wriggle in between her petals, touching her, feeling her.

“Just…” she breathes. “Just be gentle. I’m not quite ready.”

I continue moving my fingers, teasing her entrance a little. “Look at me!” I bark.

She turns her head, staring straight at me, wide-eyed and slightly frightened.

“Don’t be afraid, Pet,” I whisper, my eyes locked onto hers. “I’m not going to hurt you.” My fingers keep moving, sliding, teasing. “But you should always be ready, because this isn’t the last time I’ll fuck you. I expect you to be ready at all times. Ready to be fucked.” I slide my finger up, teasing her clit a little. “Do you understand?”

She nods.

I pull my hand away. “Now, get yourself ready while I get my cock out. It seems to me you’re juicing up quite nicely.”

She looks down at the floor as she pulls her dress up. Her fingers don’t do much of a dance, just stroke a little, but that’s her business. I unbuckle, dropping my trousers, then my underpants. I’m already good and hard just from wanting this

“See how big and hard I am, Pet?”

She forces herself to look. “Yes,” she whispers.

“That’s how much I want you.”

She just stares, suddenly as if she can’t tear her eyes away from my swollen cock.

“Stand with your legs a little wider apart!”

She complies. I pin her back against the fridge with one arm, grabbing my cock with the other and steering it to her pussy. She turns her head as I push up, encountering a little resistance, but not much, gradually inching my rod into her, enjoying her little squeaks as I do so.

I grab her jaw with the hand I’ve just had round my cock, forcing her head round. “Look at me when I’m fucking you,” I tell her, inching right the way in, as far as I can. “How does that feel?”

She looks at me with ambivalent eyes. “Just do what you came for,” she says.

“Do what?” She swallows hard. She swallows again. Her eyes move to one side and I squeeze her jaw. “Look at me!” I demand.

She looks at me, the tip of her tongue emerging. Then she says in a hoarse whisper, “Fuck me.”

“See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” I say, beginning to move back and forth.

She just stares.

“Don’t be coy, Pet. I know you want it. Your pussy’s growing wetter by the second.”

“I can’t help it,” she whispers.

I almost laugh out loud. Instead I silence myself by giving a good hard thrust, making Pet gasp, then keeping up the pace. “That’s because deep down you really want it,” I say, looking straight into her eyes. “Deep down you know you need a really good fucking, and I’m going to fuck you lots, Pet. I’m going to fuck that tight, luscious pussy of yours as much as I can.”

I keep looking into her eyes, wonderful pools of reluctance and lust. I thrust a little harder, shoving my cock deep, as deep as I can, feeling her moisten still more. “Oh you’re loving this, aren’t you, Pet? My big hard cock in your tight, juicy cunt?”

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she breathes, “not without Cuck being here.”

“I’ll fuck you whenever I damned well like,” I sneer, watching her eyes widen. “Cuck or no Cuck.” As if to accentuate this I slam my cock upwards and she cries out, though hardly in anguish. “Whenever I want you to open your legs and let my big cock in, you damned well open your legs!”

She doesn’t say anything, just stares at me, her breasts bouncing ever so lightly under her dress and brassiere. It’s a look that needs no interpretation. I shove my cock upwards, inwards, I fuck her hard, making the fridge shake. She stares at me, her eyes betraying her completely now. “Like that do you, Pet?”

“Yes,” she whispers. Then she finds her voice. “Yes!” she exclaims. “Yes!” she cries out.

Our eyes are locked together as our genitals are. Her cunt tightens, squeezing the cock I relentlessly drive into her, stretching her out as her vagina does its best to tighten, her muscles doing their best to squeeze the cum out of me. “What’s happening to you, Pet?”

She swallows, moans, gasps. “I’m being fucked.”

“And you’ll be fucked whenever I feel like it,” I say.

“Yes!” she screams as my cock dents the bottom of her cunt. “I want that!”

I’m fucking her hard now, really hard, my cock racing back and forth in her. “And when I feel like cumming over your face, I’ll cum on your face. How’s that?”

She stares at me, her eyes practically limp with lust now. “Yes,” she whispers. “Is that what you want now?”

“No, Pet,” I say, “not now.” That was never my intention this time, and anyway, the starting pistol has just gone, the sperm sprinting from my balls along my shaft. “Look at me, Pet!” I shout. “Look at me when I’m cumming in your tight little pussy!”

I bellow out loud as my cock explodes inside her. Amazed and gratified to hear her cry out, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”.

But as soon as I’ve pulled out, she looks ashamed again, especially when a dollop of semen drops from her pussy onto the linoleum floor. “More cleaning up,” I say cheerfully.

“Please leave,” Pet says. “I’ve got lots to do.”

“Fine,” I say. “But two things. Firstly, I don’t want you telling Cuck anything about this until tomorrow.”

She nods. I don’t know if I can trust her, but I have no choice.

“Secondly, I want you to leave your panties off for the rest of the day. Will you do that?”

Once again she nods, her eyes betraying her state of mind.

“There’s absolutely nothing to be ashamed of,” I say, but deep down I’m gratified that she does feel that way.

Friday May 30 17:30
That evening I go shopping. I say shopping, I mean I buy a bottle of plonk and a card for birthday boy before going for dinner. While I wait for the meal I fill out the card in block capitals, “TODAY I FUCKED YOUR WIFE AND FILLED HER TIGHT, WET CUNT WITH MY SPUNK. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CUCK.” I allow myself a smile as I remember the spunk dripping from Pet onto the kitchen floor.

Since I’m in the middle of a pleasant interlude, let me take a moment to imagine how this tale might be being received. I like to think it divides opinion, as is always the case when one is unapologetic about what one does. I know what mainstream opinion says, that marriage is an estate of blissful exclusivity between two people, and I don’t see it. I don’t mean I don’t understand the theory, I mean that I don’t see it around me, not consistently. If you’re a half of one of those happily hymeneal couples, then great, but you’re in the minority as far as I can see.

Me, I’m out for what I can get. I feed off dissatisfaction. Maybe you’re one of those men who would give me a good hiding for going after your wife, but if so, don’t worry, your wife’s not for me. Clandestine affairs don’t do it for me. But nor do ordinary affairs. I don’t do those. I’m sure the suffocating cloak of “normality” that permeates our society through an excess of psychobabble would have me down as “abnormal” in some way, not “mature”, or some such nonsense. Rubbish, I am what I am, and I don’t pretend. Besides, what would all those men do who secretly do want to share their wives if it wasn’t for people like me? If you’ve read this far, the chances are you are one of those men. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. And if you’re the kind of woman who gets her panties all hot and steamy reading this, then all I can say is that you’re my kind of woman. But only if you’re married. Only if you have a husband who for whatever reason does not want you for himself – at least not sexually.

And why should I apologise? It’s not as if I go behind anyone’s back. I fuck married women; and I do it with the full knowledge and consent of their husbands, that’s what I do. It’s a power trip, of course it is; I’m not going to deny it. If you think that’s immoral or not for you, that’s your prerogative, but it takes all sorts. I don’t judge monogamous people as irredeemably dull; I don’t expect to be judged as irredeemably wicked.

Anyway, I digress. After shopping and a good meal, I make my way slowly to Cuck’s and Pet’s residence. I can hear voices from the back, but ring the bell anyway. Cuck answers the door, his face swinging from surprise to apprehension. “Who invited you?” he asks.

“I heard there was a party,” I say, thrusting the bottle of wine and the card on him.

He looks at me in disbelief, standing the bottle on a small side table, before opening the envelope. His face is a picture when he reads the card. “Is this true?” he stutters.

“Ask your wife,” I say.

Behind Cuck a ruddy-faced man appears. Hurriedly Cuck puts the card back in the envelope and turns. He doesn’t close the door, so I do it for him, walking down the hallway. I spy Pet, scuttling into the kitchen. She’s alone, so I sidle up to her. She glances at me nervously. I lean in and say in a hoarse whisper, “I can smell your naked cunt from here, Pet.” She blushes, and enjoying the reaction, I find my own way out into the back garden.

I’m sure you know what these events are like. People are milling about in the garden in nice clothes. The men range from casual to suits, while the women are more varied. There’s a fair bit of cleavage on display, too. I pour myself a glass of wine and find myself somewhere to sit and observe, hardly drinking at all, just passing the time with one of my favourite games; imagining what people’s sexual proclivities are. Occasionally I slip into conversation with someone. It’s always the same. How do I know Cuck and Pet? Old acquaintances. What do I do? Something in computers. It doesn’t matter what I say. No one really cares, no one will remember.

Then suddenly I’m exchanging pleasantries with a woman in a red dress with white polka dots which shows more of her breasts than it conceals. I’ve been watching her and the man I understand to be her husband for a while. Something about them intrigues me, tiny signs which only reveal themselves to one who has experience.

“So,” she says smiling. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“Old acquaintance,” I say. “But I’ve been living abroad.”

“Doing what?”

I regard her with my most serious expression. “I’d like to be able to tell you,” I say, “but…”

“Oooooh!” the woman says, her eyes widening. “Hush hush is it?” I judge that she’s had a bit to drink, but not enough to not be fully aware of what she’s saying.

“Sort of.”

“Is this where you tell me you’d have to kill me if I found out what you did?” It’s jokily said, but obviously she finds the idea of clandestine activities abroad exciting.

“Something like that,” I smile.

The woman gives a secretive little smile, moistening her lips gently with her tongue. Her eyes flit briefly to her husband, then back to me. She’s sizing me up. I can see the hesitation before caution is defeated. “Wouldn’t a mild spanking suffice?” she asks.

Now this is the kind of conversation I like. I make no secret of looking at her breasts when I say, “Oh, I never do things by halves.”

“No,” she muses, “you don’t look like that sort of man.”

“What sort of man do I look like?”

She smiles secretively. “The kind who takes what he wants,” she says.

“You’ve got me all wrong,” I say. “I don’t steal.” I make sure she catches me glancing towards her husband.

“Do you borrow?”

“Never without permission.”

She considers this. “If someone doesn’t know you’ve borrowed something and you give it back in good condition, does it matter?”

“That’s a good point,” I say. “But in my experience it’s never that easy.”


“No. I’m much happier knowing that people are happy to lend me whatever it is I borrow.”

“That’s very upright of you,” the woman says. “Are you a very upright sort of person?” The way she says it speaks volumes.

“I rise to any occasion,” I reply.

The woman stifles a giggle as I catch her husband looking across. Not jealously as many do, but with some kind of secret sorrow behind his eyes. The woman sees me looking.

“He’s a good sort,” she says. “He’s my rock, in fact, and he’s great with the boys. But sometimes I wish…” Her voice trails off.

“It’s not uncommon to feel that way,” I say.

“Perhaps not,” she says. The she shakes her head and begins to twitter. “Please, pay no attention to me. I’m just an old chatterbox.” Then she sweeps away, to a small group a short distance away.

I get up and pour myself another glass of wine, keeping away from people as much as possible. Eventually, perhaps inevitably, I find myself standing face to face with the red-dressed woman’s husband.

“I hope my wife didn’t embarrass herself,” he says. He sounds cordial enough, but there’s steel in his voice.

“Not at all,” I say. “She was perfectly charming.”

The man looks me over, trying to get a handle on me. “Sorry,” he says. “It’s just… Sometimes she gets a bit tipsy and…”

It occurs to me that the man has had a little bit more than might be good for him. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” I tell him, “but I do think you’re a very lucky man.”

“Perhaps,” he says. “It’s just that sometimes my wife is a bit too friendly for her own good.”

“Really?” I say. “That wasn’t the impression I got.”

“No? Well, she must be on her best behaviour tonight, then.” He doesn’t sound as if he quite believes it.

I say nothing, waiting him out.

“It’s difficult,” he says at last. “You’re right. I am a lucky man. I just… Sometimes I wonder if she’s satisfied enough with me, if she’s happy.”

I doubt that he’d be confiding in me like this if he hadn’t had a few drinks, but I’m not about to let that stop me. I give a shrug. “Happiness is what we make of what we’ve got.”

The man blinks, thinks, then waves his finger at me. “You’re a wise man,” he says. It occurs to me that he’s drunk enough to be quite vulnerable.

“I often think it’s unrealistic of us to expect just one person to fulfil all our needs,” I say.

The man considers this. “You may be right,” he says, “but that doesn’t make things any easier, does it?”

“Why complicate things unnecessarily?” I retort.

The man shakes his head.

“Anyway,” I say. “In my experience the best thing to do is to talk about things. Tell your wife how you feel. I wouldn’t be surprised if she felt something similar.”

His eyes narrow. “What has she been telling you?”

“Nothing,” I protest, all innocence.

He returns to morose contemplation. “You’re probably right,” he says.

“Look,” I say. “I don’t know if I can be of any help to you, but… If you, and/or your wife…” I fish in my pockets as he looks on. “Looks like I’ve forgotten my business cards,” I say, bringing out a scrap of paper. I scribble my first name and mobile number. “If you find that something needs seeing to, if you have anything that needs doing… Don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

“Thanks,” he says, taking the slip of paper. I realise even as he does so that he’s probably too far gone to catch my drift, or to remember any of this in the morning. What does it matter? Worst case scenario, he goes to work on Monday, finds a bloke’s name and a phone number in his pocket and can’t for the life of him remember who or what. Best case scenario… I make an effort to refrain from licking my lips.

By now darkness is falling; people drift away. I find a spot and sit, waiting. Waiting until I’m the only one left. Then I go in search of Cuck and Pet. They’re in the kitchen, sorting bottles. I’ve seen them on and off throughout the evening, of course, even if they haven’t paid me any attention. Now Cuck rounds on me. He’s obviously had a bit too much himself. Pet glances at me, a little tipsy herself, looking worried and a little playful, which gives me heart.

“What gives you the right to come round here in the middle of the day and lay claim to my wife?” Cuck asks.

Amused by his sudden assertion of masculine proprietorship I say calmly, “We have an agreement.”

That takes the wind out of Cuck’s sail. “Well, yes,” he blusters. “But you can’t just turn up when you please and do as you like. We have a deal.”

“Cuck, Cuck,” I say. “I think you’ll find, if you cast your mind back, that the deal is that I call all the shots. Still, if you want to call the thing off, that’s fine by me.”

“Perhaps it would be for the best,” Cuck says, now not chastened so much as calmed by my willingness to abide by that side of the bargain.

“If that’s what you want,” I say, throwing my arms open. “I’ll take my leave.”

Out of the corner of my eye I see Pet straighten up. “No!” she exclaims. “Please!”

Cuck turns and looks at her open-mouthed. “What?”

“We can’t stop now,” Pet tells him.

“Of course we can,” Cuck says. “It’s part of the deal. Any time we want to stop…”

“But I don’t want to stop!”

“What?” Cuck says. “But… But… He…” he waves an accusing finger in my direction, “...he came here uninvited and more or less forced himself on you!”

So they have had time for a quick chat, I think.

“Yes,” Pet says. “It was exciting.”

Now here’s a turn up for the book. Nice, shy Pet suddenly this determined.

“But surely…”

“You thought it was exciting enough when we read the stories,” Pet tells her husband.

I ask myself if Pet might have had a bit to drink herself, and that this might explain her change of mood, though she doesn’t seem drunk at all; doesn’t seem much of a drinker at all. It strikes me that she might be one of those people, like those students that took part in a famous experiment where they were given non-alcoholic wine, but told it was alcoholic, and they subsequently behaved as if they were drunk. Yes, Pet’s one of those. She takes a sip of sherry, and thinks she’s roaring drunk. Her inhibitions go and makes it possible for her to do what she really wants, but it’s all in the mind. That’s something to remember.

“Yes, but that’s fiction, fantasy…”

“I seem to remember that you were pretty keen to make it real!”

“A man can change his mind, can’t he?”

Husband and wife stare at each other. “I can wait in the garden,” I say, aiming a thumb in that general direction and beginning to turn.

“No!” Pet pipes up. She stares at her husband. “Darling, I love you very much, but if you don’t let him fuck me right now, I’ll never forgive you!” And with that she pulls her dress over her head, suddenly standing in just brassiere and sandals, presenting a slightly bizarre sight.

Cuck visibly deflates, the way I suppose a man only can after his wife has behaved in such a way.

“Well now,” I say. “I was going to invite you over tomorrow evening. You’re still welcome, by the way. Make it sevenish. For now I’d better leave you to work things out on your own, and I’ll see you if I see you.”

Pet looks from me to her husband. “Please, Darling.”

Cuck looks at me, then at the floor. He caves. “Go on then,” he says, “do your worst.”

I start to move towards Pet, who is already on her way towards me. We meet in the middle of the kitchen floor. To my surprise she begins unbuckling my belt without any prompting. Her eyes meet mine. “I mean it,” she says. “I really do want you to fuck me.”

Well, this is a turn up for the book. Two sips of sherry and the woman turns into a raving nymphomaniac. Not that my cock is complaining. It stands to attention long before she gets my trousers and underpants off me. I look across at Cuck, who’s staring thoroughly defeated at us as Pet strokes my hard cock.

Then suddenly the woman is lowering her body. Her face comes level with my shaft. Her tongue comes out. She slides it across my stiff rod, gives the shaft a kiss, then licks some more before looking up at me. “Do you like that?”

“Of course I do, Pet. Are you enjoying yourself?”

I look across at Cuck as she answers, “Very much, thank you.” The man is looking a bit sick.

I decide there’s nothing to be gained from playing the soft game. “Remember the other day, Pet? When you had my cock in your mouth. Did you enjoy yourself then?”

She giggles. “Yes.”

“Go on then, Pet. Enjoy yourself some more.”

She looks up at me. Cuck pulls out a chair and slumps down on it. Pet’s fingers grasp my organ. She moves her fingers, then her tongue comes out, tasting the exposed head.

“Do it, Pet! Suck my cock!”

Her lips part, she goes down; not far, but I’m happy however she does it. Her head bobs, but only just, her lips sliding by small increments on my pole. I put my hand on her head, and she goes a little deeper, sucking a little more eagerly.

“Come on, Pet,” I say. “See how much of it you can take.”

I look across at Cuck, trying to gauge his state of mind as his wife slides her lips further down, taking more and more of my cock in her mouth. There’s a slight masochistic tinge to his dejection now, as Pet reaches half mast. I push a little on her head, but she pushes back up, and I allow her to slide her lips off me.

“I daren’t go any deeper than that,” she says, looking up at me. “I hope you’re not disappointed in me.”

“Not at all,” I say airily. “You look gorgeous with my cock in your mouth.”

Pet giggles as Cuck shifts uncomfortably on his chair. She’s sliding one hand down her body, towards her pussy. “Thank you,” she says. “Doing that made me very aroused.”

“Whatever turns you on, Pet.”

She smiles, getting my meaning. I hold my cock to make it easier for her to slide her lips back over it. Her fingers are moving between her legs. Now this is a turn up for the book. Her mouth is watering, saliva coating me as she sucks gently on my cock. Her eyes smile as her fingers move, she gives a little squeak of pleasure.

I get the feeling Cuck is trying not to look, but can’t help himself. He hardly looks like he’s enjoying himself, yet there’s something behind the eyes… eyes that are trained on my cock, on his wife’s mouth.

I pull my cock back. “How’s that pussy of yours, Pet?” I ask as I wipe my slimy helmet across her cheek.

“I think she’s ready,” Pet announces.

I nod, looking at her husband. “Cuck,” I say. “Clear the table while your wife sucks my cock some more.”

As Pet goes down on me again, Cuck rises, hardly able to muster any resentment. Pet strokes her cunt as her lips move up and down my shaft. Her soft moist tongue slides over the vein on my cock. Slowly, Cuck begins to move crockery and plates of left-overs, moving between table and worktop and dishwasher. “Get a move on,” I tell him. “Don’t make your wife wait.”

Cuck continues his leisurely, surly pace, but I don’t really mind. The longer he takes, the longer I get to feel Pet’s lips round my cock. Her hand is still moving between her legs, rubbing, fingers sliding here and there. She’s sighing loudly as she sucks. I stand there, letting her get on with it, enjoying her sudden transformation into shamelessness. This is better than I expected tonight would be.

“Done!” Cuck announces at long last. It surprises me. I expected him to remain silent.

“Good boy,” I tell him, pulling my cock from his wife’s mouth and looking down at her. “Don’t make yourself wait, Pet. Get up on the table.”

“How should I…?”

“On your back,” I tell her. “Legs spread.”

She moves across to the table, still looking slightly weird in sandals and bra and nothing else. Cuck is standing over by the worktop, looking on as his wife climbs up and manoeuvres her body until she’s on her back. Her legs slowly part until she’s showing off her cunt to both of us.

“Aren’t you a picture,” I say, moving across to lean over her. My fingers go straight for the prize, parting her petals, opening her up. As I do so, I can’t resist rubbing it in. “Just think,” I say. “Getting to renew my acquaintance with this delicious little twat, so soon after fucking and spunking in it. What do you reckon, Cuck? Do you reckon any of my spunk’s still in here?”

Cuck isn’t rising to it this time, but I continue nonetheless. “A rare treat, this tight little pussy,” I say, sliding a finger inside. “I don’t think I’ve fucked anything this wet and tight and wanton in years.”

Pet is giving low, lusty whimpers. I slide my finger back and forth wriggling it a little. “What do you say, Pet? Do you want to have your pussy seen to again?”

The woman giggles. “Can’t you feel it?”

I give another little wriggle. “Want to have your tight little pussy fucked and spunked all over again, do you?”

She closes her eyes, reaching back with her arms, chest heaving. “Yes, yes, yes I do.”

I glance at Cuck. Beneath all the masochism, dejection and resentment, there’s something else there. “Feel free, Cuck,” I say. “I’m in a good mood tonight. If you want to have a good wank while I’m busy seeing to your wife, go for it.”

Cuck doesn’t move.

“Suit yourself,” I say, pulling my finger out as I lean over.

The smell of Pet’s cunt fills my nostrils. It reeks of lust and desire and wantonness – and, I imagine, of a recent fucking and spunking. I open her wide and slide my tongue into her. She tastes of lust and desire and wantonness – and, I imagine, of her recent fucking and spunking. She moans out loud. I push my tongue as far in as I can, wriggling it as I go, pushing my lips right up against her. She gives a long loud moan. I wriggle my tongue about, letting it slosh round in what is, to my delight, a sea of her juices.

Her hand appears. She’s rubbing herself, rubbing her clit as I move my tongue around inside her. She moans out loud, lustily. Juices are oozing into my mouth, it’s like I’m drinking sex as her moans go up an octave. Her hand’s working frantically. I move my tongue, doing my best to fuck her with it. She moans and moans, her hand moving, her cunt a sea of secretion.

I wish I could see Cuck, but my head’s at the wrong angle. I can hear him, though, or rather hear his zip. The man seems to be taking me up on my offer. I give a good wriggle. I can hear Cuck breathe deeply, but his wife is much louder. Her body’s shifting on the table now, making it harder for me to stay in place. I force my tongue a little deeper, feeling her stroke herself with greater intensity.

“Oh!” Pet gasps out. “Oh!” Her body seems to be striving to hit the ceiling. “Yes! Oh darling, stroke your cock for me!”

That isn’t part of the plan. I’ll have to talk to Pet about that. Thankfully Cuck makes things better immediately, if inadvertently. “Look at you,” he snarls. “Look at you lying there, no better than a common slut.”

I smile inwardly, pushing, pushing, keeping my tongue in her as she thrashes about, her hand moving like mad. “Yes! Yes!” she screams. “Yes! Oh yes!”

She cums in my mouth, the juices pouring out of her in huge torrents. I keep my lips pushed up against her, letting the libidinous flood fill my mouth. “Yes! Yes!” Pet screams. “Oh! Oh!”

“Slut!” Cuck says loudly. “Filthy slut.”

That does it. Pet’s body is cramping its last as I turn around, my lips all sticky. “Shut it!” I tell Cuck, waving a finger in his direction. “I call the shots here, and if your wife is a slut, I’ll be the one to tell her.” Ignoring his stuttered attempt at a comeback, I continue, “But since I’m in a very good mood tonight, I’ll let you jerk off over your wife. But no more than that. Got it?”

Cuck stares at me open-mouthed, holding his stiff cock. “Please, darling,” Pet says. “Don’t make a scene.” The fight once again goes out of him, as he stares open-mouthed.

Pet labours her body upwards, resting on one elbow. “Thank you,” she tells me. “That was wonderful.”

I shrug, knowing I haven’t done very much. “My pleasure,” I say. She’s smiling at me, and I smile back. “Remind me,” I say. “How do you prefer to be fucked?”

Pet smiles, remembering. “From behind,” she says.

“So what do you want from me?”

The woman doesn’t answer. Instead she eases her body round, swinging her legs over the edge of the table. She drops to the floor, then sinks lower, coming down on all fours in the middle of the kitchen floor. Looking back over her shoulder she smiles invitingly.

Now that she’s lost any semblance of respectability or nerves, I decide to take advantage. “You’ll have to tell me what you want, Pet.”

She licks her lips. “Fuck me,” she says.

“Fuck you how?”

“Fuck me from behind.”

“Fuck you with what, Pet?”

“Fuck me with your big cock.”

“And how do you want my big cock, Pet?”

“Please,” she whines. “Do it now. Fuck me from behind with your big cock.”

I walk across to her, standing behind her. “Let me get this straight,” I say slowly. “You want me to fuck you doggy style with my big hard cock. Is that right?”

“Yes!” she breathes. “Please fuck me with your big hard cock.”

“Haven’t you been fucked enough for one day?” I ask, giving her arse a slap for good measure. “You’ve been fucked and licked and sucked cock. And still you aren’t happy.”

Now she reddens. “I’m very happy,” she breathes. “But I still want more.”

I lower my body, cock in hand, right behind Pet, looking at her luscious pussy lips. Then I turn. Might as well go the whole hog. “Hey, Cuck,” I say. “Get over here! Get down here!”

The man moves slowly, but seems at a loss as to what exactly is expected of him.

“Do I have to spell it out? Get down on the floor, right next to your wife’s arse.”

He looks so miserable that if it wasn’t for his stiff cock, I might take pity on him.

“Get your face in close,” I demand.

“What… What?” he stutters

“Just do it,” I say, moving my cock towards Pet. “I want you to have a really good close-up of my cock penetrating your wife.”

He looks a bit green. Perhaps it’s the proximity of his face to my cock. Some men are funny like that. His eyes are riveted on his wife’s pussy as I slowly, slowly push my cock into her, just enough for the big, swollen head to disappear.

Pet gives a huge moan. “I’m so horny!” she groans. “Give me all of it!”

I grab hold of my cock and make circular motions with it, the head still resting just inside her sweet pussy. “You had all of it earlier today,” I remind her. “And a huge load of spunk in your eager twat.”

Pet groans again. “I want it again.”

I grin, looking at Cuck’s eyes which are on stalks as he stares at the point where his wife’s cunt is joined with my cock. “Seems you can’t get enough of my cock, Pet. Is that true?”


I tease her, pulling my cock out. “Tell me that!”

“Fuck me,” she breathes. “Please. I… I can’t get enough of your cock!”

“That’s what I like to hear,” I say, pushing my cock back up against her swollen lips. “Hear that, Cuck? Your wife can’t get enough of my cock.”

“Fuck me!” Pet moans.

So I do. I ram my cock into her. Pet squeals. She’s wet and tight. I begin thrusting, hard and fast. I’m not in the mood to show mercy, neither to her nor to Cuck.

“That’s one tight little eager, cock hungry pussy your wife’s got,” I pant. His hand’s round his cock. He’s wanking, his face up close to the spot where Pet’s pussy is being pounded. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe she is no better than a common slut.”

“Oooooh!” Pet cries, as if to prove the point. “Aaaaah! Fuck me! I can’t get enough!”

The scent of sex fills the air, the sound of flesh slapping reverberates. Flesh slapping against flesh, juices sloshing. I feel Pet pushing back, eager for my cock to pound the very depths of her ravenous cunt.

“That really is one fine, cock hungry cunt your wife’s got,” I tell Cuck, a bit on the breathless side now, truth be told. “Fuck, it’s squeezing me like it can’t wait to take all my spunk again.”

This is no exaggeration. Pet’s pussy, tight to begin with, is growing ever tighter. She wobbles slightly as she rests her upper body on just one arm, then lowers it instead. One hand moves back. I slam my cock into her, as hard as I can. No mercy. Punishment for Cuck, and for her…?

Not so much. She’s crying out, cheek resting on floor, one hand rubbing her clit as my cock continues its relentless pounding. “Yes! Yes!” she wails. She’s cumming again, pussy tightening, clenching, squeezing my cock tightly.

“Yes! Yes!” Pet screams again, sounding as if she’s almost off her head. “Fuck me! Fuck me!”

I do fuck her, my cock working like a piston as her cunt contracts and contracts, as she cums and cums.

“You are one hot fuck,” I gasp, still driving my cock into her.

“Oh! Oh!” Pet screams.

Cuck’s on his feet. Pet’s stopped cumming, but she’s still crying out. Her husband wanks quickly. I’m sweating, panting. Pet is wailing. Cuck is grunting. Then sperm is flying out of him, landing on his wife’s back.

“Oh!” Pet screams. “Oh!” Then, “It’s happening again!”

Again she tightens, her hand moving between her legs. A great wail comes out of her, sounding like a wounded animal, seeming to go on forever. There are streaks of sperm on her back where her husband has spurted. He’s standing there with drops of spunk dripping from his member, staring at his seemingly insatiable wife as if I can’t believe his eyes.

“Shall I do it again, Cuck?” I ask. “Shall I cum in your wife? Shall I spunk her horny fucking twat?”

The question is, of course, rhetorical, but I’m delighted when he says, “Yes, cum in her.” There’s shame burning in his eyes.

“Go on,” I urge, sensing something more. “This one time you can say it.”

He blinks. Pet is gasping, whimpering as my cock maintains its pace. “My wife’s a fucking slut,” he says bitterly. “Spunk her pussy, it’s what she wants and what she deserves.”

“Hear that, Pet?” I say, giving her arse a quick slap. “Your husband think’s you’re a dirty slut. He thinks I should spunk your pussy.”

“Yes! Yes!” Pet cries. “Yes! Oooooooooooh! Yes! I can feel it!”

My spunk is indeed flying out, straight into her sopping cunt. My cock feels massive inside her tight cunt, and I keep on fucking until every last drop has been deposited inside her.

After that, Pet slumps forwards on to the floor, her back running with sperm, a slight trickle of more sperm emerging from her pussy. Cuck pulls out a chair and sits down on it, looking as if he can’t believe what just happened.

I grab my trousers and pull them on, looking at Cuck, even as Pet just lays there, panting hard. “Well this was fun,” I say. “We must do it again some time.”

There’s no response, from either of them.

“You’re welcome round my place at seven tomorrow evening,” I say. “A drink or two; perhaps we could play a game. What do you say?”

“That… That would be nice,” Pet gasps at last, still not looking at me. Nor does Cuck, who just looks sullenly straight ahead.

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll let myself out. And if I see you I see you, and if I don’t… well, then I don’t.”
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

To link to this sex story from your site - please use the following code:

<a href="">His Wife, My Toy: Part 3</a>

Comments (9)

Tell us why

Please tell us why you think this story should be removed.