My Wife Colleen

Every night I pleaded for some attention, my need to orgasm growing stronger all the time, but the more I wanted it, the more she seemed content with putting me off. Denial, she called it—the ultimate sacrifice of the depraved.

"It's simple, simple," she explained to me once when I begged and pleaded for some contact, some sexual experience.

"What you want from, what you need from me, is this gift." She was talking to me as I knelt in front of her as she readied herself for another date. My tone sounded more like a whine than a request as I pleaded to at least suck her off. But she remained adamant about denying me any pleasure.

Patting the top of my head as if I was some sort of dog who was incapable of understand, she said, "You had it all. We were lovers, of a sort. I realize now that you weren't very good, but at least you got some now and then. But no, you wanted to get married. I warned you that I never do it with my husband. You thought that meant my current husband, didn't you?" I nodded in a pathetic manner as reality sank in. "It meant husband, any husband. I'm just not interested in doing it with someone I'm married to. That's so boring. It's much better cheating, finding an eager, big stud I can play with then drop whenever I get tired.." She glanced down at me to check whether I understood her.

"Besides, this is much better."

"This? What do you mean?"

"My last husband didn't like me cheating, beating me whenever he found out. You're not that way. I recognized in you a willing spirit. You would let me do whatever I wanted, at the same time I could control you."

Her sadistic nature seemed to be surfacing.

"With you I can do whatever I want, like play denial. I can cut you off and you don't do anything about it. I can make you my sniveling slave. Plus, I can cheat in the open. In fact, you seem to relish in my infidelities. You're hornier now than ever, lusting after me, knowing you're never going to get it again, but that I'm giving it away to many other guys."

"I'm never going to get you again?" She shook her head. "I'm never going to get to make love to you again?" I asked again as my throat constricted. I felt broken.

"I don't foresee it in the future. I love the teasing, making you beg, watching you grovel, seeing you lust after me every time I get ready for a date."

She glanced at my turgid state as I toweled myself.

"The little guy seems a bit turned on." This was the second time she called it that. She had never referred to my cock as the little guy before. For some perverse reason, this kind of talk excited me.

"What do you mean, the little guy?" I asked nervously.

"It's fairly evident isn't it?" she commented as she walked out. Still drying myself I followed her.

"What's evident?" I asked. She snorted in reply.

"You always ask me about all of my other lovers."

"Yeah?"

"You know the one thing they had in common?" she asked. I shook my head.

"They all had bigger cocks than yours." She pointed at mine. Groaning in masochistic lust, my penis swelled to its maximum dimension. "Is that the best you can do?" She laughed as she witnessed the effect her words were having on me.

"You never spoke about this before," I said.

"Well things have changed."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you found out last night." She said as her eyes pierced into mine.

"You were with someone?" I asked. Although everything led to that conclusion, this was the first time she admitted it. A wicked smile spread across her face.

"You knew it would happen when you married me. In fact, that's why you married me, isn't it?"

Nodding slowly, I acknowledged her statements.

"And that's why I agreed to marry you. Obviously not for your endowments. I knew my infidelities would turn you on. This way we both get what we want. I get all of the big cock I can get, and you get to know about it. Perfect arrangement, right?" She was very pleased with herself. I was rock hard.

The rest of the morning went by in a blur. I fixed her some breakfast, cleaned up the bedroom and did the laundry, stealing a quick sniff of her panties before throwing them into the wash. Finally I joined her in the living room where she sat reading the paper.

"Where do we go from here?" I asked.

"Where do you want it to go?" she responded watching me carefully.

"I'm not sure. Are you going to leave me?"

"Is that what you want?" That wicked smile appeared again. "Wouldn't that be the final betrayal, sort of appropriate?"

"Please, no..."

"Well, we'll just have to see how it goes. For now, you'll have to be content with being celibate and second."

"Being celibate? Does that mean I don't get it anymore? And second? What does that mean?"

"I think you know what celibate means. It means you're not getting it anymore. And as far as second goes, I'll give you an example." She handed me a slip of paper. There was a phone number written on it. I looked up at her in puzzlement.

"Call this number. Tell him that you're my personal secretary and that you would like to arrange a date for me with him for tonight."

"You want me to call your boyfriend and make a date for you?"

"Is that too difficult for you to comprehend?"

"No, I get it. What I don't get is why? Why would I make this call?"

"Because it's your job now," she smiled, "besides, it will turn you on," she answered. Staring open mouthed at her, I searched my enfeebled brain for any reason I should do this absurd thing. She glanced at my pants indicating the aroused state of my manhood. Even for me, I was tremendously inflamed.

Reaching for the phone I heard her chuckle.

"Don't be so cocky," I said as I dialed.

As it rang, I was suddenly unsure how to handle this conversation. I was excited but I was also embarrassed.

"Hello?" A deep, masculine voice sounded at the other end.

"Hello, this is Colleen's personal secretary." I waited.

"Yes?" he asked.

"She would like to make a date for you this evening, if it's all right," I stammered.

I heard laughter. My face turned red in embarrassment. "You're calling to ask me for a date with her?" he asked in a tone of disbelief.

"Well, yes. As I said I'm her personal secretary..." He cut me off.

"Sure you are. Yeah, tell her I'll pick her up around six. What a wimp. She told me all about you but I couldn't believe it." He hung up. I turned to Colleen as I replaced the phone.

"Well? What did he say?" she asked smugly.

"He said he'd pick you up at six," I answered.

"Is that all?"

"Yes! That's all."

"You know, he'll tell me tonight, so you may as well tell me." Her eyebrows arched as she spoke.

"He called me a wimp." I couldn't face her. "He said you told him all about me." I turned to her. "What did you tell him?"

"I just told him the truth."

"What truth?"

"I told him that you couldn't satisfy me. I explained that I needed more than you could give."

"Is that all?"

"Well, I may have mentioned your little bitty cock."

"You called it a little bitty one?"

"I think I said it was like a little boy's cock, or maybe smaller."

I stared at her admission. My face was beet red. My cock throbbed in my pants.

"You think I have a little cock?"

"There's nothing to think about," she said as she left the room. Following her, I demanded more explanations.

"Well, how small am I?"

"Compared to what?"

"How do I compare to your other men?"

"You want me to compare you to my other lovers?" she asked. I nodded. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"I'm sure." She stared at me.

"Once we go down this road, there's no turning back," she warned.

"I know."

"Ok. First of all, the term 'other lovers' isn't correct. That implies that you were some kind of a lover in the first place."

"You're saying that I'm not a good lover?"

"Want me to grade you?" she inquired. Again I nodded. "Well, on a scale of one to ten, you wouldn't even be on the chart."

"You mean because of my size?"

"Size or lack thereof, endurance, desirability, any number of qualities a woman wants—take your pick. Listen, every man I have ever been with had a bigger cock than you. As far as that goes, the boys I had in junior high had bigger cocks than your minuscule thing."

"Why did you marry me then, if I'm so bad of a lover?"

"I like cheating, you know I like cheating and this arrangement gives me a chance to do as much cheating as I want, and it also allows me to flaunt it right in your face. you taught me something."

"What's that?"

"I discovered I liked rubbing my infidelities in your face almost as much as I enjoy the tremendous fucks I get from my studs."

She grabbed my ear and made me face her. "And you like it too, don't you?" she asked as her eyes pierced my soul. "You love to see me go out with other guys, knowing I'm getting pleasured in a way you could never do in your wildest dreams. You love the fact that these guys are hitting on me, flirting with me and then fucking my brains out. You like the fact that I'll do anything for them. And, most of all, you know I'll do nothing for you."

Staring deeply into my eyes she made me realize the truth. "And you love every minute of it, you sick little boy."

Sometimes Colleen would be very flamboyant about her cheating nature. One boyfriend, a guy she met at work, knew nothing about our marriage. Colleen told him she wore a ring just to keep the guys from hitting on her, saying she liked to choose the guys herself. When he asked why she lived with me she informed him that I was gay and provided the safety of companionship and protection.

When Colleen was in a particular mood, she would call her lover and invite him over for a quickie, always letting me hear her end of the conversation. Once at the door, she often stopped him in the hallway, whispering that I had a guest, another guy and that they only had time for something fast.

Usually, she simply went down on the guy, blowing him right there in the vestibule. Sometimes, she would pull his huge cock out of his pants, suck him ready and then bend over and let him take her like that. Either way, the moment he shot his load, she ushered him out the door promising other nights of bliss later.

Knowing I watched every detail, Colleen would waltz to the bedroom with me right behind her. If he had fucked her she would sit on the bed, legs spread apart, and allow me to clean his cum from her used pussy, telling me all the while how great he was and useless I was, always reminding me that he was allowed access to her golden shrine while I was denied the pleasure.

If she blew him, sometimes I was given a kiss so I could taste his cum on the inside of her mouth.

At parties, she would often meet one of her studs there, making me drive her and then deserting me the moment we entered, whether the host knew our situation or not. She would tease me with by paying attention only to her lover. While friends and neighbors drifted about, Colleen would latch onto the arm of her current boyfriend, rubbing her big breasts against him, and stealing kisses here and there. Invariably, the big brute's hand would claim my wife's ass as his own.

Our friends would give me the oddest looks, wondering why I was allowing my wife to act so wantonly. They had no idea of our depraved relationship.

The perverted thing was that the strange glances, as humiliating as they were, sent shivers of lust through me.

Of course, the boyfriends always seemed to enjoy the way Colleen lavished her charms upon them and neglected me.

I wondered if they knew the truth. I wondered if they got off on humiliating me. I wondered if they relished becoming the man in the house.