Chapter 2

When Jack came home that evening, I put my plans in motion. I was extra attentive to him, which made him think we were going to have sex later that night, even though it was only Thursday. You see, it had become our practice to have that sort of thing only on the weekends, and we rarely varied from that schedule.

After we had dinner, and the table had been cleared, the two of us sat on the couch watching the early news on TV. During one of the commercial breaks, I casually mentioned that I had talked with our neighbor, Mae, that day (which wasn't true, of course), and that she'd told me a woman who was a mutual acquaintance had told her she'd been having affairs with multiple partners over the course of the past year.

Jack's immediate interest was all the confirmation I needed that he did, indeed, have fantasies in that area. He tried to get me to tell him the woman's name, but I wouldn't do it. He then wanted to know how many lovers she'd had, and I told him it was three. I was watching him carefully to gauge his reaction as I said that "magic" number, and the way his jaw dropped and his eyes widened to their maximum extent told me all I needed to know.

He had to pause to clear his throat before asking, while trying to make his question seem entirely casual, "Do you suppose she had all three at the same time?"

I smiled inwardly, then replied, "I don't know for sure, but I suppose it's possible. Maybe it would be better for a woman if she had more than one man at a time. What do you think?"

His eyes were almost glazed over as he again cleared his tight throat. At last he said, in a small voice, "I think she'd like it lots better like that."

Again there was a pause, after which he said, while staring shyly down at his lap, "I wonder if her husband knows about it."

Trying to appear more nonchalant that I actually felt, I replied, "She told Mae that her husband not only knows about it, he encourages her to take as many lovers as she wants. I wouldn't be at all surprised if she makes him watch while they make love to her."

That put him completely over the edge, and he couldn't stop himself from sighing quietly, "Oh, God!" I took him in my arms, hugging him tighter than I'd ever done, and kissed him with the passion we'd once had, but which had been missing for so long. As we kissed, I placed one hand on his crotch, and the raging hardon there was all the evidence I needed to know my husband was well on his way to living his fantasies.

As our lips parted, I squeezed his erection through his trousers, then whispered, "Let's go to bed early tonight. Okay?" He was beyond speech by then, and could only numbly follow behind as I led the way to our bedroom, using his little weenie as my "handle."

That night we did something we'd never before done, which was to have intercourse and oral sex. We'd done both, of course, but never before in that order.

Judging by Jack's frenzied licking and sucking as I sat atop his mouth just a few seconds after he'd ejaculated inside me, it was something he'd always wanted us to do. I had to agree with that, I guess, since the orgasm I had, which was my third one that day, was the most intense I'd ever had with him.

When I finally moved off his face, he lay there quietly, seemingly still deep in living the fantasy in his story. For my part, I snuggled up beside him and placed one hand on his cum-slicked penis, which was still almost as hard as it had been before he climaxed. I didn't say anything at all, but continued to squeeze his little dick as I formulated the next steps in my plot to cuckold my husband.

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When Jack came home the next evening, we had dinner as usual, and then headed for the couch afterwards. He immediately asked me if I'd been talking to any of the neighbors that day. The forced casualness of his question almost made me laugh, but I was able to gain control of myself.

I said, "Yes, I talked to Mae again this afternoon. About all she could talk about was the woman down the street who's cuckolding her husband with those three men. Apparently she gave Mae lots more details today, but I suppose you're not interested, are you?"

The look on his face was truly comical as he blurted out, "Yes!" He then caught himself before continuing, "I mean, I'm not against hearing a little neighborhood gossip if you want to pass it on."

I pretended to be reluctant to be a gossip, but finally relented. I said in a conspiratorial voice, "Well, it seems that the woman really does have sex with all three of her lovers at the same time. Not only that, but just like we thought, she makes her husband watch."

I then paused for effect, then whispered, "But, get this, honey. She not only makes him watch, she makes him do what you were doing with me last night after we had sex."

In a voice so tight it almost squeaked, he asked, "You mean she makes him give her oral sex after the three men have made love to her? Is that what you mean?"

I took pity on him, finally nodding my head in agreement, then saying, "Yes. She said she likes to sit on his mouth when she's full of their sperm, just like I was doing to you last night. Do you think that would really and truly make a man hot if his wife made him do that?"

His voice had entirely failed him by that point, and all he could do was nod his head, while his breath came in gasps. I knew I'd hooked the fish, but decided to play with him a little more before landing him.

I continued, "She said there's one other thing she makes her husband do, but you probably don't want to hear about it, do you?"

His tiny squeak of, "Please," almost made me laugh again, but once more I controlled myself. Instead, I said, "Well, it seems that she makes him give her lovers the same type of cleaning he gave her. She said when he's through eating their cum out of her pussy, she makes him suck their cocks until they're squeaky clean. God! Can you imagine any man doing such a thing just because his wife tells him to do it?"

He was literally out of his head with lust by then, and after clearing this throat several times, whispered, "Yes, if he loves her."

I knew the time to go to the next step was ripe, so I gripped his raging hardon through his trousers, then squeezed it as forcefully as I could. I put my arm around his shoulders, then drew him to me and kissed him with a force equal to the one with which I was trying to crush his little weenie. Pulling away, I asked, "Do you know of any other man who loves his wife that much?"

When his head nodded in assent, I pressed my advantage, asking simply, "Who?"

He breathed so deeply that I was afraid his lungs would burst, but at last answered my question with a soft, "Me."

I looked at him with a newfound feeling of love that I'd never thought would be possible. Again I kissed him deeply, then whispered the vital question, "Do you mean that if I would take lovers, you'd do all those things for me if I asked you to?" He was so far beyond speech that all he could do was nod, but that was all I needed.

I pressed my advantage to the limit then, asking the question I'd practiced all day, and expressing it in the most direct, crudest way I could. "And after they've fucked me, do you want me to sit on your mouth so you can suck their slime out of my cunt?" Again, all he was able to do was nod his empty head.

My final question of the evening was equally direct and crude. It was, "And after they've fucked me, and after you've sucked my cunt clean, do you want to take their big cocks in your mouth and suck them off?" His whole body was quivering by then, so I wasn't sure if he nodded or not, but his willingness to do whatever I ordered was clear. I knew I had him by the short hairs, to coin a phrase. It was time to give him a reward, and reinforce all his promises to me.

We literally tore off our clothes as we ran to the bedroom, and in the space of a heartbeat he was flat on his back while I was riding his rock-hard penis. I barely had time to say, "Hurry and cum, lover. My husband is standing right there and starving to death. Fill my cunt with your hot, delicious cum so I can make him eat it." Even before the last sentence had passed my lips, his balls were emptying as far inside me as his little pecker could reach.

Again, I reinforced his arousal by moving quickly to his mouth, then whispering angrily, "My cunt's full of a real man's cum! Suck it out of me, you worthless little wimp cuckold! Eat a real man's cum, you useless bastard!" And, boy, did he ever do just that! I actually thought he was going to suck my insides right out of me, but I guess he didn't, because when I finally cooled down from the best orgasm I'd had in two days, it felt like they were still where they were supposed to be.

I was completely exhausted by that time, and limply rolled off his face and lay there trying to breathe. At last I could once again speak, and after placing my hand on his still-erect penis and stroking it a few times, whispered, "I can't believe how much I love you, honey. It's like I never even knew you before. When you tell me the truth, like you did tonight, I just love you more than I can say. Promise me you'll never, ever not tell me the truth when I ask you something. Okay?"

He let out a deep breath he'd been holding for a long time, then said, in an equally soft voice, "I promise. No matter what you ask me, I'll tell you the truth."

I had been planning to wait until the following night to take us to the next level, but given the passion and emotion in his voice, I decided there was no reason to wait.

Still holding his dick in a death grip, I said, "Tell me again that you want me to cuckold you, and then force you to suck another man's cum out of my pussy."

He whispered in a strained voice, "I want that. I've always wanted you to do that to me. I love to think of you having sex with other men, and making me serve you afterward."

"And you want me to force you to suck off my lovers, and lick their big cocks clean after they've fucked me? Do you want me to make you suck them until they cum down your throat?" He tried to answer, but simply couldn't make his throat voice the words. Instead, in the dim light from the bedside lamp, I saw him nod his head and make an affirmative-sounding squeak.

I knew he was completely in my control then, and uttered the next question, which I'd also been practicing all day. It was, "After we do all that, do you want us to do other things to you? You know, things that would hurt you real bad, but would punish you for being such a useless little wimp cuckold."

He found his voice then, and blurted out, "Oh, God, yes! I deserve whatever you want to do to me! You should do everything you can think of to me! I want you to do those things!"

When he had quieted, I asked, "Are you going to answer me honestly when I ask you questions?" Again he nodded his head, and I pressed my advantage, saying, "Tell me exactly what you want us to do to you. Don't leave out anything, or I'll know it and we'll never have sex again. Tell me!"

He was quiet for such a long time that I truly thought I'd gone too far, and that he'd refuse to answer. Finally, though, he whispered, "After you make me clean you and your lovers, I want you to take me to the garage and hang me by my wrists. I want all of you to whip me as hard as you can to punish me for being such a useless cuckold. I want you to whip my little penis until it bleeds, and then make me spread my legs so you can whip my little peanuts. I want you to whip them until they swell up as big as grapefruits, and I pass out from the pain. Oh, God, please! I want that so much!"

As he uttered those last words, his penis began to spurt. I squeezed it even harder than before, then began to twist it with all my might, as if trying to unscrew it from his body. I kept saying over and over, "I'm going to pull your useless little wee-wee clear off you! I want you to be my eunuch, too, not just my cuckold! Is that what you want, too?"

He was far beyond answering any questions right then, so I didn't insist he do so. I merely lay there squeezing and twisting, until at last his spasms subsided and he lay there sobbing. When I released him from my death grip, he turned toward me and pulled me into his arms, saying over and over, "I love you so much! I didn't know it was possible to love anyone so much!"

At last he quieted, and almost immediately fell into a deep sleep. As for me, I lay there beside my soon-to-be cuckold of a husband, and thought of how far we'd come that night, and how much farther we were going to go before much longer.

Continued in Chapter 3.