Ascending Lauren Ch. 20

This narrative is part of a multi-part story that explores the sexual exploits of a Midwestern couple who wanted a change in locale, but are experiencing much, much more.

Warning: subject matter includes hotwife/cuckold/group sex topics. This story is tagged as such, so if you do not care for these types of tales, move on. You are your only enemy if you continue reading.

Those that do choose to continue, please know reading previous chapters will help you better understand the characters and their journey.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Anything depicted has no relation to past or current people and events. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.

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February 4th. Three weeks to go.

Corey Miller's eyes fluttered open to the sound of a mechanical fan whirring noisily somewhere nearby. The gelid space appeared empty and dark, void of any context. As he drifted between sleep and consciousness, it soon became apparent there was a mattress beneath him, and a thin sheet covering his body. Nude except for black dress socks, in those moments that resembled lucidity, he reckoned this was the hotel room he and Lauren had booked for her reunion. That epiphany seemed even more surreal when a shadowy figure appeared at the end of the bed.

What the fuck?

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

Relieved to hear Lauren's soothing voice, her angelic glow set his mind at ease as she stepped from the darkness. Still dressed in the ball gown and faux fur stole from the evening, kind eyes looked upon him tenderly this time, not as the cuckoldress she was just hours ago. "You okay?"

Corey read the barely visible alarm clock on the nightstand. Three fifty-five a.m.

"You just got here?"

"Yeah."

The evening's earlier events began to come back at him in bits and pieces, except how he'd gotten to the hotel by himself.

"Pauly paid a couple of the boys to make sure you got in the room."

"Like this?" he freaked, appalled at the idea.

Lauren laughed, tossing the stole around her shoulders onto a small chair.

"No silly, I did that. You were out like a light."

"If I recall, it was only like midnight when I..."

"Passed out. Well, I had unfinished business."

Corey's head was beginning to clear a bit, but not completely. "Unfinished business? Jesus, Lauren how many?"

His wife shrugged, unzipping the party dress and letting it fall to the floor. This time, there were no panties beneath. "Does it matter?"

"Where are your..."

"The fraternity brothers kept them as a souvenir. Are you done asking questions? Would you like to hear what happened after you fainted?"

Corey managed a weak croak. "I...I don't know."

"Bullshit."

Giggling, Lauren whisked away the sheet and took in his nakedness. He looked downright comical with his shriveled penis trying to bounce to attention and toes wiggling inside black socks, lint, and all. She playfully flicked his struggling dick with a middle finger.

"Keep trying, Twisty."

"Please, just tell me!"

"Oh, now you're begging to hear how your wife got her brains fucked out? How nice. Can't even get hard without thinking about me screwing someone else, can you? Well, you see, Pauly...you remember Pauly, right?" she asked sarcastically. "He's the one that flooded me with a bucket load of cum before you left. Oh, but you knew that. Anyway, the asshole he is, he got up and left me with Matt and those kids. Mmmm, those boys could fuck. Matt, not so much. Good thing their friends were bored.

"You pulled train for the entire house? You've gone absolutely slut mad."

"Not the entire fraternity, goofball, just the ones that wanted to get laid."

That was a joke, of course, but Corey wasn't laughing.

"Why so surprised? There wasn't one limp dick in that room while I was getting ganged, including you, cuck. In fact, my love, seems to me you lasted longer than usual. Maybe I should look up old boyfriends more often."

Corey looked to where her gaze had gone. The turtle was beginning to come out of its shell again, a clear admission to complicity, and undeniable testimony to his arousal at her antics.

"Why'd you do it?"

Nude now, Lauren climbed onto the mattress, kneeling by his midsection. "It was one of your fantasies, remember? Me and Pauly...and others."

It was indeed. Literally, a dream. "You brought us all the way here to act out a fantasy? You said you didn't do more than one guy at a time back then."

A dainty hand wrapped around his pink, growing worm. "Are you complaining?"

Corey shook his head rapidly. All the dirty talk was going directly to his cock.

"I didn't think so. Tell me...what did you like most? Watching me suck Pauly and Matt off? Fucking my ex? Or swishing your tiny dick around my pussy after he came in me? Slick and gooey, wasn't it?"

A barely perceptible nod was followed by a low moan as his wife's fingers danced on his burgeoning erection.

"I'm glad you felt something. I barely knew this thing was in me."

"Really? Are we really going there?"

Leaning over, Lauren's tongue shot out, swirling around the small head a couple times, licking away tiny amounts of precum that had begun oozing out. "Too much?"

"N...n...no. I just...oh God."

This time, he reached out and grasped the back of her head, pushing it down onto the cock she thought so little of these days.

Wrong move. To his surprise, Lauren immediately straightened and slapped his hand away.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. You've been a naughty boy. You didn't follow the rules."

"Rules? What rules?"

"You fucked me. I told you no pussy!"

"What? My ass. C'mon, you wanted it."

"No fair. I wanted cock...any cock. Even this little prick." Corey's entire six inches recoiled as she flicked it again. The air couldn't have been thicker as that dagger sunk in, punctuated by the sound of the maligned heater fan in the background. He groaned again in pleasure, savoring the implied humiliation. Loose skin hips arched to help his underused cock seek her ever-elusive fingers.

"Admit it, you wanted to see me get fucked by my old beau as much as I wanted him to. You act like you don't, but then you always do. Always. I came on his dick, did you know that? Which is more than you can do for me now. You could have stopped it...all of it...with one little word. But you didn't, did you, cuck?"

"I...I..."

"DID YOU?"

"No..."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to see..."

"See what?"

"See you...get...get fucked."

"By who?"

"By PAULY...I WANTED HIM TO!," Corey sobbed, "God help me, I wanted him to."

Swelled now, Lauren looked at her husband's dick with the same fondness as a World War II bomber that had once served its country well but could no longer get the job done. Average at best, it now lacked the qualities of her other lovers. Less virile, less aggressive, less...alluring. Name it. Instead of vitality, it looked tired, worn out; almost resigned to take its place amongst the relics. Of course, that was not Corey's fault. They'd known their age difference would catch up to them sooner or later. For twenty-five of their twenty-nine years together, they had great sex. Had she not gone along with his kink seven months ago, Lauren would have been content with finishing out life working with what she had signed up for. Now that her husband, of all people, had catapulted her into their own mini-sexual revolution, how would either of them go back to monogamy? She liked the sex way too much. And he? Corey seemed to enjoy, more than anything, wallowing in the pleasurable agony that is a cuckold. And paramount right now was giving him the aftercare he needed.

Facing her pudgy husband, Lauren straddled his rotund middle and allowed her bald slit to slide up and down the underbelly of the eager cock until it fell into the wet groove of her labia, like a hotdog fitting into its bun. Careful not to allow a breach of her treasure, she continued the motion relentlessly, building his need to cum.

"Please," Corey cried, "I need to cum."

"Shhhh," Lauren whispered as she leaned over, letting the tips of her long black mane caress his man boobs and nipples.

"Did you mean what you said?" he coughed, still whimpering in blissful travail. "That you never should have left him?"

Another giggle. God, why does he do this to himself? "Hmmm, at least he can last longer than five minutes, unlike some people..."

The mist in Corey's eyes began to form tears. "I'm sorry, so sorry."

"Shut the fuck up. I came back, didn't I? Guy's a prick," Lauren confessed, then leaned over and whispered, "but he sure can get me off."

Riding those thick hips of his without penetration was not easy, seeing as her juices had begun flowing again, mixing with the remnants of Pauly and Corey's earlier dumps. The volume of cum would have been much greater had she not made the others wear condoms. Greased now with seeping seminal fluids, the viscosity made it difficult to keep her husband's cock out. Indeed, the mushroomed head actually did slip in a couple times before she could take corrective action.

"NO!" Lauren barked, quickly pivoting off his pelvis and onto his chest. This placed her ass and sopping pussy squarely in his face, giving him a bird's eye view of the natural lubricants draining from her bloated gash. The aroma of sex mixed with the musty smell of her crinkled, starfished anus.

"Please, let me cum!" Corey groaned. "PLEASE!"

"Maybe."

With gentle, calculated finesse, the lovely cock-tease caressed him in all the right erogenous zones, lightly dragging the tips of her nails across his flabby and creased skin as they traveled between each. He trembled beneath her touch as she rolled a nipple here and massaged a thigh there. All the while, his penis quivered in the air untouched, begging for the attention being deliberately denied. It bobbed in the air freely, a steady stream of precum percolating from the meatus.

"Oh, sweet Jesus!"

Careful not to touch the throbbing member, Lauren continued to massage the crinkled perineum, the odor of his sweaty scrotum and asshole wafting up to meet her nostrils. Corey reached down a couple times and tried to jerk off, only to have his hand swatted away.

"NOT YET!"

"Please, Lauren, please, I need to, oh I need to..."

Now, any man who has had the agonizing pleasure of enduring an impending touchless knows how difficult it is to get over that last hurdle, the point where the beautiful torture ends, and blissful release flows. Corey was at that point now and struggling mightily.

"SHIT, SHIT, SHIT," he bleated over and over and over, head bouncing off the pillow. "For the love of God, end it. JUST END IT! Or let ME!" He would've offed himself, but the knees straddling his sides prevented any hand from reaching down and ending the torment.

Lauren recognized his predicament and tried to help pull him over, realizing that it was no longer her pussy that made him cum, but the hooks of the fetish as well.

"Can you smell them, babe? Can you smell the men I fucked tonight?"

Corey inhaled deeply. The pungent odor of stale semen just inches from his nose grew stronger with every river of air that emitted from her well-used hole.

"Spread my cunt, baby...tell me what you see."

Both thumbs parted her swollen, reddened lips, giving evidence of the pounding they'd taken that evening. Peering into the meaty void, canal juices combined with sticky, opaque, and stringy weblike matter that obfuscated the typically bright pink meat that normally provided such a tasty treat.

"Jesus, is that..?"

"You tell me. That's where four other men had their cocks tonight, Twisty. Can you imagine my tight pussy wrapped around their sizzling irons, pumping in and out..."

"God, Lauren, you fucking slut."

"In and out..."

"Cheap whore!"

"In and out..."

Working up a dollop of spit, Lauren, let it drizzle over his dick like cinnamon icing, stringy and sticky. It quaked violently as the saliva struck the tip of the glans, mixed with the copious precum, then dripped down various ridges of its sides. Next, she let strands of her shiny black hair drape around the quaking appendage, nudging, teasing.

"HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT! PLEASE, babe, PLEASE let me cum!"

In an effort to make this a special orgasm for him, she had a most wicked idea. Untried and dangerously risky.

"Eat my ass."

Corey's eyes widened. "What?"

"Did I stutter? Eat my ass, then you cum."

Eying her puckered anus, the array of variegated wrinkles leading into the dark abyss a mere lick away seemed forbidden, taboo even. He'd fucked her holy grotto recently but certainly never tasted it. Yet, in that heightened state of arousal, it seemed like a reasonable, even desirable request. With some trepidation, his face moved closer, touching the tip of his tongue to her bunghole. The moisture from contact seemed to enhance the musty aroma, making it earthier, fuller. Pressing a bit deeper, Lauren moaned loudly, continuing the massage between his legs in earnest. Encouraged by her enthusiasm, his extended tongue when further into the forbidding chasm, rewarded with a not-unpleasant flavor of soap and lotion. Deeper he went, nose buried in her ass cheeks, wiggling the tip so it would penetrate to its fullest. Unsurprisingly, considering what it expelled daily, the sides were rough and uneven, not smooth and delicate like a pussy. Still, it was pleasurable and nowhere near being the revolting experience he'd always imagined.

Lauren had to double-down on the massage, her concentration faltering at the new and quite felicitous sensation of her husband's tongue exploring her asshole. It tickled, but in a way that begged for more. After letting him probe a bit, she arched her back to give him a new angle, to which he began to get down to business with gentle licks and the application of more pressure. Lauren appreciated the effort, enough so it was time to bring her whining husband home.

"That's it, lick my asshole, Twisty.

"Did you see the way Pauly fucked me? Oooooooh, it was soooo good. Just like I remembered. His dick isn't much bigger, but oh the things it can do!"

Lauren could feel Corey's cock straining, poking in the air all alone, desperate for touch but having none.

"Matt wasn't bad either. He finally got what he jerked off to all these years. Kinda of like you, but he waited longer."

"Lauren," Corey pulled his tongue away from her anus. "PLEASE, I NEED TO CUM!"

"Was it hot seeing those kids ogle me? I like college boys. They're so cocky but know nothing."

"How...how many?"

Giggles. "Let's see, I started the night with six rubbers, and I got none now."

"YOU FUCKED EIGHT GUYS TONIGHT?"

More giggles "Yeah, I guess. They just kept coming through the door. Literally."

Lauren could tell his mind was reeling but wasn't there yet.

"Are you enjoying the ride so far, baby? You ready to take it to the next level?"

"Nthxxt lehhvil?" Corey asked, eyes widening as his lips sucked at her brown hole.

"I thought so," she smirked, grinding her ass into his face. "Maybe we should invite more of your friends over."

The second Lauren felt Corey's hands clamp down on the meaty part of her ass cheeks, she knew he was close. A stuttered 'ug, ug, ug, ug' choking noise came from behind as she continued to massage his taint, pressing in on the thin skin. Then, without warning, with only a few wisps of her long, silky hair encircling his tortured member, it began quivering, then shaking, rapidly oscillating faster until the first spurt of cum bubbled out.

It wasn't the type of explosive orgasm to write Penthouse about, but rather a protracted, slow burn. Still, it was enough for an intense and most enjoyable climax, made that much more pleasurable knowing it had been orchestrated for him by someone who cared very deeply. It ended with her jumping into his arms where they cuddled and whispered.

"Have you enjoyed your return to Ames?" Lauren asked airily, head on her husband's shoulder, plucking his gray chest hairs.

"It...it certainly has been different," Corey scoffed, still trying to catch his breath. Snuggling closer, he turned his face to hers full of curiosity. "What exactly is the next level?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll know it when I see it. Still game?"

"Haven't said the safe word yet, have I?"

Lauren rubbed her nose against his, then tapped it with a finger. "Then watch out, cucky, you may just want to have your hand on that lever."

That night Corey had a fitful sleep, sporadic wet dreams waking him from time to time in the pre-dawn hours. What had she meant by keeping his hand n the level? What was she planning next? He tried jacking off a couple times, but his spent cock gave no quarter. Lauren, on the other hand, slept peacefully, well fucked, knowing she'd fulfilled one of her husband's top fantasies.

All in all, it had been a good day.

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February 5th. Seventeen days to go.

Returning to Des Moines after a late check-out, the couple poured themselves into purging and packing. While planning to let the movers pack and store most of their stuff, there were some items one could simply not entrust to others. Neither mentioned the reunion, although Corey did express his disappointment in the tattoos. Lauren defended the ink, saying they 'felt right'. For her, it was the next level, nothing more.

“E Z?”

“Does that bother you?”

“It’s not me you have to worry about it bothering.”

“You can’t see them unless I want them seen. Your daughter has one, you know. Similar place, just above her ass.”

Corey looked incredulous. “WHAT? EASY?”

“No, but the sentiment is the same. I know you don't want to hear this, but she's quite the, um...party girl...in her own right. She has a cute little queen of spades, right here.”

Lauren pointed to the top of her buttocks.

It dawned on him he’d never seen pictures of any of Caroline’s boyfriends since she moved to Colorado.

“Bernard is black?”

“Was. I mean, he still is, they just aren’t dating anymore.”

A ‘wow, learn something every day’ splashed across Corey’s face. It’s not that he cared. As long as the guy wasn't a terrorist. “Whatever. Whatever makes her happy.”

“Well, there’s not much to hate,” Lauren chortled, a sly smile breaching her face.

The attempt at humor wasn’t subtle.

"You've never told me..."

“You never asked,” she snickered, heaving another dried-up paint can into a trash bag. Licking her lips, the pretty office executive vividly recalled the handsome black men Caroline had been talking to on the beach during her visit. "Just sayin'."

Corey shook his head, not knowing what to believe anymore.

And that made the enigma his wife was becoming that much sweeter.

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February 6th. Sixteen days to go.

On Tuesday evening, after two and a half days of sweat and blood, they decided to take a break and go out for dinner at one of their favorite hometown restaurants. Corey beamed across the table at Lauren, who looked especially radiant in a simple round-neck mauve knee-length dress, shiny black hair draped over soft shoulders, long enough to cover those small breasts that were very much discernible beneath the lace material. To up his game, he'd worn new blue jeans, semi-new ostrich boots, and a blue and white checked button-down collared shirt. This even garnered him a sexy whistle as he helped her shrug on a green patent-leather crop jacket.

The food was just as they'd remembered it, and to evoke even more memories, decided to check out another favorite, a club they'd frequented for years, Little Chicago Moves. Lauren smiled as they stood in a brief line to pay a twenty-dollar cover, inside in easily five minutes. How different from Miami, she mused, then admonished herself for the comparison. Of course, the Magic City was like no other place she'd ever been. Vibrant, edgy, sensual. Nothing would ever compare again.