An Agreement Gone Wrong

Then something else changed; John lost his job. It wasn't his fault, he was a good teacher by any of the faculties standards, but there were predictable budget cuts and he was first on the chopping block. The school promised him that if things got better, they would contact him, but John didn't have high hopes. His mood soured as he hopelessly, at least that's how it felt, looked for another teaching job. With every rejection and unanswered email that piled up, his mood only worsened; and with his worsening mood, all the progress from before seemed to unravel. Despite his continued protests at being penetrated, John had started using his hands and mouth more enthusiastically, his desire to please his wife stronger than the fear he felt at touching her male genitalia. Hell, he had even managed to bring her to orgasm several times, his more enthused ministrations causing her to shower inhuman amounts of cum over the pair during sex. It had caught him by surprise, but he felt proud of himself for finally getting his wife off, even her powerful orgasm scared him. But all of this quickly faded away.

Even when John finally found a new job, although it wasn't in teaching, things still didn't improve. He had gone back to bartending, something he had gained experience in during his later years of college. It wasn't his dream job by any means, but it helped him pay his share of the bills and catch up on the small amount of debt he had accumulated. In reality, he often made better money than he did teaching, but he didn't go into teaching for the money. Bartending was fine, though it wasn't his dream job; but he kept at it while still looking for another job as a teacher. There was one perk, however, of his new job - the women.

Being a bartender meant John always had women coming up with him to flirt, despite the shiny ring on his finger. He had no doubt that many were looking for free drinks or discounts, but that didn't stop him from enjoying the attention. Besides, while he was often outshined by his stunner of a wife, he wasn't bad looking by any means. Even if he didn't attend the gym as much as he used too, he was still in decent shape, and his muscled forearms showed it. He had nice white straight teeth, deep brown eyes and short brown hair that he kept just long enough to style in a messy, cute way. His only truly outstanding flaw was a noticeably, naturally crooked nose, a feature that unfortunately ran in his family; however, it was often more of a positive for the young man as it made him stand out a bit more from his peers. By no means was he a young Brad Pitt or anything of the sort, but he was attractive nonetheless.

This is where his downfall occurred. The new job, the strained marriage, the countless women who flirted with him on a weekly basis: it all accumulated together during one particular week just a few months prior. A busty, black-haired woman had slipped him her number while she was paying; she had spent all night bent over the bar, her breasts practically threatening to spill over her top, talking to him. He had casually mentioned that he was married, but that didn't stop her. John pocketed the napkin almost mindlessly, and rediscovered it the next day when he was getting ready for work. This temptation went ignored for a whole week, before he finally gave in and texted her.

John shot her a simple message introducing himself. He tried to keep it simple, telling himself he was just being nice. Well she had other plans and amped it up almost immediately. Flirty texts, teasing pictures, innuendos - her intentions were clear. John resisted for almost an entire week before he gave in, and they met up one night after he got off work. He did the smart thing and went to her place, telling Christie he was going out with some coworkers. It was an awesome night. Finally he was able to fuck someone who did have a dick magnitudes bigger than his. The woman, Raven, wasn't as sexy as his wife, but she was certainly someone to shake a stick at that's for sure. John didn't return home until the morning, when Christie had already gone off to work.

Obviously she found out. John had felt guilty, and tried to cut off contact with Raven, keeping their steamy affair to a one-night rendezvous. She had continued to text him, and one morning his wife saw. There was screaming. There were tears. There were many cold nights on the couch. After over a week of being given the silent treatment and cold shoulder, Christie sat down with him and they talked. They talked a lot. After hours of discussions, they came to a somewhat mutual agreement that they'd try an open relationship, to John's reluctance and Christie's barely hidden glee. Things slowly went back to normal after that, although they never reached the pre-firing happiness the couple experienced. It was months before Christie had acted on it, while John didn't dare and try to compromise the marriage he had almost ruined.

These were the thoughts, the memories, the regrets, that flowed through John's mind as he tried to fall back asleep. Hell, he had had these thoughts nearly every day since their open relationship began. They kept him up and they dragged him down; many a night he lay awake, his mind too active to actually allow him rest. He would turn over and stare at his gorgeous giant of a wife, and wonder why he couldn't be better for her. This morning seemed like it was gonna be more of the same, and John existed in a kind of pseudo half-sleep, never fully succumbing to tiredness, even when the house finally went silent.

2 separate alarms blared simultaneously, shaking John from his partial unconsciousness. He rolled over and slammed his hand on the digital clock on his night stand, and then quickly moved to grab his phone. Turning the second alarm off, the duo wake-up calls being a leftover from his college days, he unlocked his phone and rolled back over. Ah, there was the text from Christie, that just read 'Melissa the neighbor', she had said she sent him earlier. There was nothing else from her, and as John stared at the text message he realized something: wasn't Melissa married?! He was sure he had met her husband at least once before. This realization caused a feeling of anger to boil within his stomach at his wife's own apparent hypocrisy.

Shaking his head, he threw the covers over himself and started to get prepared for the day. He still had a couple hours before he needed to head over to the bar, but he liked to take his time. Plodding over to the master bathroom, shedding his clothes as he went, he went about his daily routine. As he got out of the shower and gave himself a quick shave, he stared at his towel-clad form for a couple minutes in the mirror. Maybe he should try and hit the gym more, he was getting flabbier than he was comfortable with - maybe he could use it to try and help repair his relationship with Christie. They hadn't been together in ages. Walking back into the bedroom, he sat on the side of the bed and grabbed his phone.

Holding it up to his face, his eyes went wide at seeing a new text from his wife. The entire message fit in the preview, and this one read 'Carol - my boss. I'll explain in a minute'. Her boss?! John stared incredibly confused at the message, rereading it several times. He had met her boss briefly once over a year ago at a corporate holiday party she had dragged him too. John didn't remember her well - brunette, a bit on the older side, a fat ass? He was pretty sure he remembered that last part, and it might've been the only thing he remembered correctly. Momentarily distracted in his reminiscence, it took John a minute to realize had received a new message. It was a... video message?

With an audible gulp, John opened the message and played the video.

"Hi honey!" Christie's chipper voice rang through the video as the camera focused on her face. She looked like she normally did, her deep blue eyes staring directly into the screen. Her blonde haired framed her face so nicely, and her plump lips always looked so enticing. God she had such a cute, small nose - probably the only small part of her. Man, his wife was hot. The camera was pointed towards Christie's upper body, and he could see was dressed smartly as usual; although that didn't stop her massive breasts from tenting out the tops of her blouse.

"Let me explain what's happening!"

Christie seemed to struggle with the phone in her hand for a moment, before the video refocused and aimed downwards. John had to steady his hand as it began to shake at what he saw. The view of the camera was, from what John could guess, in front of Christie's massive mammaries, and angled down towards her crotch. She was bottomless, and her monstrous meat pole was jutting out from her groin, completely hard. Despite the camera phone quality, John could make out every detail, from the spiderweb of criss-crossing angry veins, to the not-so-subtle tremble of her cock that came from every beat of her heart. Following this inhuman appendage up from his wife's hairless crotch, something else entered the frame about halfway up this behemoth, at least John assumed it was halfway. There at the edge of the frame was a pair of pale, jiggling ass cheeks, and especially fat ones at that, barely covering the sight of a brutally stretched pair of cunt lips.

The camera shook once more and aimed slightly upward, giving John the full image. It looked like they must have been in her boss's, Carol's, office, and Christie had her bent over the desk. Carol was also still wearing the upper half of her outfit, a drab beige affair from what John could tell, but was completely naked from the waist down. John's wife had a handful of her boss's hair wrapped around her free hand, and her back was arched as his wife used her immense strength to pull her head backward. As the camera steadied, his wife began to pump her once-still hips into the woman, immediately drawing muffled moans from the woman. She turned back to look at Christie, and John could see that a pair of panties that were far too-small to be the futa's were stuffed inside of her mouth.

"You see John," his wife started, grunting as she began to pick up the speed of her pumps, "I got to work a bit late due to... well you know why. And even though I've worked a lot of overtime this week, Carol here decided to call me into the office to chew me out!"

"Ooh yeah that's a tight fucking cunt!" Christie growled, interrupting her own story. Her hips really started to pick up the pace, and John could hear the microphone on the phone pick up a loud slamming sound. The futa's hand lost its steadiness for a second and pointed back down, giving John a full view of her cock absolutely destroying her boss; her lips looked like they would split open at any moment and it appeared as though Christie had managed to fit even more of her insane length into the woman. John quickly found out what the sound of that slamming noise was, as he could see his wife's bloated balls, which somehow looked even bigger than they had this morning, slam into the desk with every thrust. Fuck, he thought he could even see cracks start to show in the wood.

"Sorry, anyway, so she's chewing me out, telling me that even though I think I'm so good at my job and that I think I work so hard, I still have to abide by company policy - oh yeah you like that slut?!" Christie practically shouted, really hammering away at her boss who was now practically screaming into her pantie-stuffed mouth, "and I just lost my temper. I told her I'd show her why I was late and I fucking slammed my cock down on her desk!"

Another loud, muffled scream from Carol temporarily interrupted her story, and John could see why: she was cumming. Her pussy look liked it was doing its best to tighten around the steel-hard rod currently stretching it, and then a blast of girlcum rocketed out from every part of her stretched cunt. The clear juices splattered on the floor, Christie's dick, and both of their legs - really anything in its path got drenched. John could hear Christie laugh in the background, her pace picking up once more. Her brutal fucking continued for several more minutes before the futa spoke once more.

"Yeah cum on my cock again you greedy bitch!" she growled and then paused for another minute, "oh yeah, sorry John. Anyway so I slammed my dick on her desk and she stopped talking. Can't say I didn't miss that feeling! Well that's the story baby - this wasn't planned. But, I'm getting close so I'll let you g- oh yeah bitch get ready- love you."

With this last grunt the video ended. Much like in the morning, John's mouth was completely dropped in astonishment. His hands dropped to his lap, and he stared vacantly at the carpeted floor in front of him. Was this what his wife was really like? John had never known her sexual side when they were both single, and now he was getting his first taste. He had thought the rumors from before were just that - rumors. Some exaggeration mixed in with truth. But now having seen his wife in action twice today, which was twice more than he had the entire time they'd known each other, he was starting to wonder if the rumors had downplayed what a sexual monster she was. As he continued to contemplate this bevy of new information, his phone buzzed loudly in his hand.

He didn't even want to look at it and see what notification could have popped up; but his curiosity got the best of him. Slowly, he lifted his phone back up to his face, and looked at what it could be now: a picture message from his wife. Another gulp and another slide of his thumb and the message was opened. John closed his eyes almost instinctively, like his body was trying to save him from something he wasn't ready to see. Peeling his eyes open, he focused on the picture, and let out a gasp - it felt like his umpteenth of the day.

What the picture showed was the aftermath of the video he had just witnessed. It was taken from his wife's perspective, the angle being fairly high up in the air. On the ground in front of her was her boss, who looked barely recognizable from the video he had watched just a few minutes earlier. She was lying on what looked like the broken remains of her desk, on top of her ballooned, giant stomach - it was hard to tell considering everything had been painted white. Carol, the remnants of the desk, the floor, even the walls he could barely see were all covered in cum. John could only guess that Christie's boss's stomach had been blown up so much by this insane amount of seed; her now-cavernous cave of a cunt that looked to have a waterfall of cum pouring from it gave credence to this theory.

It was insane. John felt like he was going insane. How could one human produce so much sperm!? It was everywhere in the picture. The ground was completely covered, and it looked more than an inch deep! Was this just from one orgasm?! John had made her cum before during sex, and he thought the amount she had ejaculated then was ridiculous, but it couldn't even compare to what he was seeing now. Carol was borderline unrecognizable under all the off-white sludge and she looked like she had swallowed a beach ball with how big her stomach had grown! What was going on?!

The message was captioned simply, 'I think she learned her lesson'.

Completely dumbfounded, John texted a simple 'I love you too' back and threw his phone onto the bed. He continued to sit there, naked except for the towel wrapped around his waist, for several more minutes, staring off into space. This was a lot to process. Unfortunately, he did have to get on with his day. Standing up, he walked over to the closet and started to put his work uniform on, along with some underwear and socks. A simple black polo with the bar logo emblazoned on the breast and a pair of blue jeans was about as much as his uniform consisted of. After checking himself in the closet door mirror and giving his brown hair a good ruffling, he grabbed his phone from the bed and walked out of the bedroom.

As John walked down the hall, he was temporarily filled with dread, the memories of earlier flooding into his mind. He stopped before the turn into the entrance and took a deep breath; he was being silly. That was earlier and this was now. Besides, it already felt like an eternity ago, like a distant memory. He smiled to himself and shook his head. Pulling out his phone, he looked down and started to check his social media sites as he rounded the corner. After a few steps, his foot landed in something wet. And warm. And sticky. Stopping in his tracks, he looked up from his phone and nearly yelled in shock.

Recoiling at what he saw, John stumbled backward and slipped, landing hard on his ass. The entire entry was flooded with cum, and there laying up against the wall, was Melissa. Melissa was still here, looking barely conscious, with an incredibly bloated stomach; fuck, she looked like she was 9 months pregnant with twins, and she was absolutely drenched in still-wet semen. The floor was completely covered, and John could see the pool of cum seeped towards the other side of the entryway, into the kitchen and living room. All of this was leftover, the ocean of cum and the overfilled, unconscious, ruined woman from Christie's coitus from hours ago. As John stared at the horrific aftermath in front of him, Melissa's whole body trembled and she let out a slurred moan, followed by a mass of cum flowing from her cunt and small spray of juices that splattered into the pool of cum in front of her. Jesus, she was still cumming.

Getting his bearings, John reached over and removed his cum-soiled socks. Throwing them to the side, he stood up and retreated back to the bedroom. Sitting back on the bed, he stared at the ground as he attempted to come up with a plan; the now cum-flooded entry was the only way out of the house, as it also blocked his path to the backdoor as well. Realizing he had no choice but to walk through the swamp of sludge, he came up with a plan. Walking into the closet once more, he grabbed another pair of socks and a towel. While he originally had planned to eat something in the kitchen before he left, he hadn't bothered to grab his keys or wallet, so he made sure to pocket those as well. He exited the bedroom once again.

Now knowing what to expect, John turned the corner of the hall more cautiously. Once again he was faced with a barrier of semen, one he would have to walk through if he wanted to leave. Standing on his toes, socks in one hand and a towel in the other, he made several long, careful strides through the cum, the warm goo sinking between his toes. Opening the door careful, he stepped out, glad he didn't slip in the viscous liquid. Closing the door behind him, he reached down and cleaned his feet of the residual cum, and tossed the towel to the side. After some careful hopping, he put on his socks and shoes, which he mercifully usually left outside due to the fact that working at a bar often meant they got disgusting. Now, he was ready to go about his day.

After stopping for some fast food and eating in the parking lot of the restaurant, he made his way to work. John decided that he would try and clock in early - even being at work was better than being at home today. The drive was fairly uneventful and he hadn't received any new texts from his wife, something that he was thankful for. Pulling up the bar, John saw it was mostly empty, which was normal owing to the early hour. John decided to kill a bit more time in his car before going in, which amounted to nothing more than fiddling around on his phone and listening to some music. When it was only half an hour before his scheduled time, he got out of his car and waltzed over to the bar.

The first couple hours of work were predictably boring and slow. John was able to clock in early, and he spent most of the time getting himself prepared for the night: grabbing fresh bottles, cleaning glassware, filling ice - the usual. The rest of the time he spent chatting with his fellow bartender and the waitresses that worked the floor, in between making drinks and getting ignored by the regulars who sat at the bartop to watch the TV. One waitress in particular, Megan, was particularly chatty, and since her section was the closest to the actual bar, she spent a good portion of her time talking to John. This was fairly a common occurrence, and John never minded considering Megan was quite the looker.