Author of Cuckoldry

One night he saw a post from the author: I get a lot of inspiration from real life, Clint wrote, although not always my life. I love talking with readers, and many of my stories are based on their experiences.

His excitement off the charts, Jack dashed off a private message: Dear Clint, I have been absorbed in your stories lately, after discovering the wonderful tale of Bethany. I could just imagine myself in Scott's chair, watching on the screen as Cole ravished my beautiful wife, Melissa, for hours, in every room of the house. I would love for her to come home afterwards, her skin tasting of him, her kisses tasting of him, his cum leaking from her pussy after it was stretched and filled repeatedly by Cole's huge cock. I would never dare tell her this fantasy of mine, but reading your stories makes me wish I could. Thank you for your stories, and I hope there will be many more to come. Who knows, maybe one day you'll tell our story! Warmest regards, Jack

Before hitting send, he attached a picture of himself and Melissa on vacation, smiling for the camera. It was a nice, innocent picture, and he hoped it would catch Clint's eye. After years of marriage, she was still beautiful and sexy, a tall, blonde, blue-eyed woman with firm breasts, long toned legs and an ass to die for.

Melissa was sleeping soundly as he crept into bed. Perhaps it was all the erotic stories he'd been reading lately, or maybe it was the guilty thrill of communicating with their author, but she looked even sexier to him than usual. It was a warm night. The curtains were only half closed, and she was only half covered by the sheets, and there was enough light from the moon for him to see her back and the curve of her perfect ass.

As often, she was sleeping in his old Pittsburgh Steelers T-shirt - and nothing else. Taking great care not to disturb her rest, he lifted the back of the shirt, revealing her bare beauty. He was hard as a rock and he knew there was no hope of going to sleep. Extracting the offending member from his underwear, Jack stroked it gently while fantasizing about Melissa naked apart from red stiletto heels, bent over the kitchen island with suave, suited Cole behind her. He pictured her expression of lust and amazement as Cole's monstrously huge cock powered into her gorgeous rear. He pictured himself on his knees afterwards, his -

Jack froze as Melissa sighed and rolled over onto her back. Luckily for him - he really didn't want to explain why he was masturbating in bed next to her - she remained asleep. Even lucker, the shirt had risen at the front too, and now her long legs and her sweet pussy were on full display. He wished that Clint were there to write her beauty into words.

Jack could resist touching her no longer, and Melissa was positioned so perfectly. Carefully he maneuvered down the bed and gently spread her legs, just enough that he could get between them. He kissed her pussy lovingly and slowly licked between those delicate lips. Her body reacted instinctively, her legs opening wider and she sighed as she adjusted position. Guessing that she was awake, or at least aware of what he was doing, Jack worked his tongue deeper and swirled it around hungrily while slipping his hands under her thighs. He held her firmly as he devoured her, and wondered if one day he'd get to taste another man's cum blended with her own.

Melissa moaned gently as she ran her fingers through Jack's hair. "This is a nice surprise," she murmured.

It wasn't long before she was writhing on the bed, her hand holding Jack's mouth tightly against her pussy. Trying to imagine what Cole would do if he had Melissa in this position, Jack slipped one of his fingers between her cheeks. Melissa gave a loud gasp of surprise as the finger pushed into her ass, and she climaxed seconds later, the tight ring of her rear entrance contracting fiercely about his invading finger. Jack drank up her juices as she trembled in his arms.

Feeling her shake with pleasure, hearing her ragged breathing, had only made him hornier. As the shaking eased and she relaxed at last, Jack moved up her body and kissed her on the mouth. "Can we try something different?" he asked, looking into her eyes but seeing only shadow. "You know what I mean?"

Of course she knew what he meant. He had asked many times before to let him try anal sex with her. As always, Melissa scrunched up her nose and shook her head. She never let Jack go there. As always, he tried not to show it, but it frustrated him.

"Remember that night," she whispered, "at that sketchy motel? How about you do that again?" He sensed rather than saw her wicked grin as she wrapped her hands around the back of his head, pulling him in close for some passionate kissing.

Jack's disappointment faded quickly. That night, inspired by the seediness of their surroundings, they had tried a role play that was permanently etched in his mind. Melissa had dressed up very sexy, and had waited for Jack in the small bar. The plan was for him to proposition her like she was a prostitute. He'd taken his time getting ready, though, and when he entered the bar some other guy had approached Melissa and was chatting away to her. She was being flirty back, and once she knew Jack was there, she played it up a little. It went as far as the man putting a hand on her leg before Jack interrupted.

When Jack and Melissa got back to their room, she pretended to be a working girl and demanded payment up front. So he'd paid her, and had proceeded to fuck her like she was a hooker. For the first time in his life, he'd felt safe to indulge some of his dirtier fantasies and treat his loving wife as a hot piece of ass.

"You want to be fucked like a common whore?" he growled, getting into character. "I'll show you how a slut gets fucked."

"It's your money," she said with an indifferent shrug.

Damn, she could make him hard. He flipped her over, positioning her on all fours. Her ass made a tempting target and he badly wanted to fuck her there, but he knew the answer. Lining up below, he thrust into her pussy hard, forcing a cry from her lips. There was no slow build. He held her hips and slammed into her repeatedly. A brutal, rhythmic fuck. Gradually he leaned forward too, pressing his weight onto her until Melissa's chest and face were pinned to the bed. He grunted loudly with savage delight as he drove in hard and deep, and loved the way she groaned into the pillow.

Abruptly he pulled out, and flipped Melissa over onto her back. She gazed up at him as he positioned her legs over his shoulders. Again he thrust into her wet pussy, eliciting another groan from her. Wrapping his arms tightly around her thighs he started pounding into her hard. Her whole body shifted from the force, and her head actually banged off of their headboard.

"Ouch!" she cried, sounding more startled than hurt. "Oh my god, Jack!" He ignored her though, and she panted heavily as he fucked her wildly.

Jack was lost in the fantasy, imagining his wife a whore. He imagined himself as Cole, and Melissa a prostitute picked up at some street corner. She cried out as he punished her pussy with his huge, thick cock, until she lost all control and screamed with pleasure, her well used cunt squeezing his powerful shaft.

And then he too was losing control, his whole body stiffening in the agony of climax. He erupted inside her, pulsing in a glorious, much-needed release, and she gasped as he filled her up with what felt like gallons of his thick, fertile, creamy cum.

Until, done at last, he let her legs fall from his shoulders and back to the bed.

There was a moment of awkward silence as Jack thought about what they had just done. What he had just done. He waited for the questions that must surely come, but she merely pulled him down beside her, held him wrapped protectively around her, and before long seemed fast asleep.

Sleep followed swiftly for Jack too, though as he breathed in his wife's scent, and as his cock pressed longingly once more against his wife's perfect ass, he was imagining the story that one day Clint would write about his beautiful whore of a wife.

Seduction

The next night Jack was back on his laptop after Melissa had gone to sleep. He couldn't get his mind off the stories and fantasies he'd been reading. The way the author, Clint, was able to describe women and these erotic scenarios was just so captivating and exciting, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, he had responded to Jack's message...

And he had! There was a response from Clint waiting for him and he couldn't open it fast enough. Dear Jack, Thank you for your effusive praise and for sharing your erotic imaginings. Your wife, Melissa, is beautiful indeed, and I would love to learn more about the two of you. As you say, maybe one day you will inspire another story for me to write and share with the world. I look forward to hearing from you. Clint

Jack was thrilled. He had hoped for - but not expected - a response, and the nature of the response was everything he'd wished for. Clint had even provided his private Twitter handle to make it easier to chat live, and Jack didn't hesitate, immediately trying to connect. It was funny. He had butterflies in his stomach as he waited for a response. It felt like he was reaching out to a celebrity instead of a guy who just wrote erotic stories.

"Hi Jack!" Clint said in warm greeting. "Glad you reached out to me. I'd love to hear more about how you imagine Melissa fitting into my stories."

Jack grinned happily, excited to have someone at last he could share all his depraved fantasies with. They talked for hours into the night. Some small talk, but mostly erotic fantasies, both Jack's and Melissa's. Clint interrupted frequently to ask questions and seek details, and as Jack relaxed his answers became increasingly explicit.

"We role-play from time to time," he said. "In fact... One time we even did it in public. We were at this motel, and Melissa sat at the bar all dressed up sexy, and I was supposed to hire her as a prostitute. This other guy started chatting her up and she flirted with him knowing that I was watching. Part of me still wishes she'd gone with him. I took her back to our room, paid her twenty dollars and we fucked for hours."

"Interesting..." Clint said. "Perhaps she's a bit of an exhibitionist at heart. Just hasn't embraced it yet."

Jack thought about it for a minute. "Makes sense, I guess."

"Does she have any hang ups?"

"Just anal." Jack sighed unhappily. "She has a perfect ass, but refuses absolutely to try anal. She says she tried it once and hated it."

"That is a shame... From my experience, those who have had a bad experience had it with someone who didn't know what they were doing. Well, I hope that changes. I'm lucky, I guess. Evelyn is always open to it."

Evelyn was Clint's wife. Jack's feelings were mixed. It stung a little to hear how the other man's wife was happy to give it up, but there was reassurance in it also, that women could enjoy anal sex - if it was done right.

It wasn't long before Clint was talking about a possible storyline. "I'd love to know more about Melissa - her drives, her emotions, the things she likes to do. I want it to be as real as possible. And I'd love to see more pictures of Melissa, if you wouldn't mind sharing?"

The thought about readers picturing his wife, and probably pleasuring themselves as they read about her sleeping with strangers, gave Jack a bit of an adrenaline rush. There were so many things about her that he would love to share with other readers like himself: the way she laughed; her little dimples when she smiled; the way she looked during sex... He spent a while searching through the pictures on his phone, and found a handful that were very nice - including a couple from their last vacation with Melissa in a bikini, though sadly none from behind. He sent them to Clint.

"You're a lucky man, Jack," Clint said. "I especially love the beach picture. I'm definitely going to use her in my next story. The more you can show me and tell me, the better it will be."

For the next couple of weeks, Jack was feverish with anticipation as his imagination ran riot with possible scenarios that Clint might create with Melissa. Every question that Clint had he answered in as much detail as possible. He hunted through their Facebook pages for more pictures to share with Clint, who kept pressuring Jack for pictures of her ass that Jack had praised so often. "Inspiration, Jack," he would say. "We'll have Melissa loving anal yet, just wait and see."

Fragments of Clint's story only served to excite him further: For years Melissa had avoided anal, despite her husband's entreaties. As a naive young girl, a college student away from home experiencing adult pleasures for the first time, she had allowed her then boyfriend to persuade her into trying it. His overeagerness and her fearful reluctance had made it not only a painful experience but also a humiliating and shameful one. But now, so many years later, she was ready to try again. The one thing that still held her back, that made her hesitate at the very point of surrender, was guilt. How could she allow this man, this comparative stranger, to have what she had always denied her adoring husband?

Jack was completely hooked. Clint knew exactly how to describe these fantasies and had an astonishing talent for expressing what Melissa would feel. And not just Melissa, but also the men who used her, who controlled her and conquered her sexually in ways Jack had only ever dreamed of. The whole experience developed into a full blown obsession...

Caught

... until he got caught.

"What are you doing?" Melissa asked. She would have laughed at his startled, guilty expression, except that it seemed to confirm her growing suspicion that Jack was cheating on her. The recent change in his behaviour had not gone unnoticed by her. Too often she had awoken to find herself alone in bed, and always his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. Even the unusual intensity of his lovemaking, much as she had enjoyed it, had troubled her.

She hadn't meant to sneak up on him, but she hadn't made a point of being heard either - and she had been curious to see what was absorbing his attention in the middle of the night.

He fumbled an explanation, something about reading erotica (which, to be fair, she'd done herself often enough, and wasn't really anything to look so frightened about), but to his credit he didn't try to hide the screen - and it didn't seem to involve some other woman.

"So, what's this story about?" she asked, taking the tablet from him and curling up beside him.

Scott changed to the camera in the dining room as his wife led Cole through from the kitchen. The table was arranged for dinner, ten place settings around a long oak table. No food, of course, it was just for show. "Plenty of space," Bethany was saying, "for all the family." Scott chuckled. Was she really doing the sales pitch? Standing there naked apart from those fuck-me heels - or should that be fuck-me-again heels? - was all the sales pitch she needed.

And Cole, that magnificent bastard, was still hard, his porn-star-sized cock projecting from the zip of his dark suit trousers. Scott was a little surprised his wife could still walk after the treatment she had received in the kitchen. Her face had been the picture of ecstasy as Cole had railed her from behind - but Cole himself had not yet come. The man's stamina was as impressive as everything about him. He had promised to fuck Bethany in every room of the house, and was clearly able to pace himself.

Which was great, but Scott was still impatient for the moment his co-conspirator's cum filled his wife's cunt - the climax of the evening for him would be when she came home at last, and Scott would finally get to taste another man's cum in his wife's well fucked pussy.

That was really not what Melissa had expected. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. But she could feel Jack relaxing as she had read, except for that one body part that had stiffened suggestively. She curled her fingers about the warm shaft. "You like this story, then?" she asked curiously. "Do you like to imagine me with another man when you fuck me?"

Before he could answer, a notification appeared at the top of the screen. Melissa tensed. He was chatting with someone. "Who's Clint?" she asked anxiously. It had never occurred to her that Jack might be seeing a man.

"The author," Jack said, clearly flustered.

"The guy that wrote this story?" Scrolling up, saw that the author's name was indeed Clint.

"Yes," Jack said. "I've been chatting with him."

"Why?" It was obvious to her that he was holding something back.

"I can't explain it," Jack said, and then proceeded to do so. "His stories - I love them all. I messaged him to tell him I was a huge fan, and we just got talking. I even" - he took a deep breath - "asked him to write a story about you."

"You what!"

"It's really good. Here, I'll show you." Jack took the tablet from her and quickly found a message with a short passage of text.

They returned again to the motel where it had all started, Melissa dressed in that same sexy red dress as before, the same black, patent leather boots. This time, though, they arrived together, and as they entered the bar, Jack whispered in her ear, "Go to the restroom, take off your underwear, and bring them to me."

Melissa halted and turned half towards her husband. "Are you sure about this?" She herself could think of a hundred reasons why what they were doing was utterly foolish, but that only excited her further. Strange men would sneak peeks at her swollen nipples, catch glimpses of her wet, freshly shaved pussy, perhaps even grab her ass with overfamiliar hands.

And if her husband was very lucky, one or two of them might even pay for her services. Just how far she was willing to go, she did not yet know. "Yes," he said, nudging her forwards. For a brief moment her fingertips traced the outline of his bulging cock, and then she was off, striding towards her destiny.

It was a shock to see herself as a character in someone else's fantasy. It was a shock, too, that her husband had shared details of such a private experience with an absolute stranger. It was a shock - and yet, the scenario was profoundly erotic.

"I want to talk to him," she said.

*

Jack watched, bemused by how eagerly Melissa introduced herself to Clint, and how quickly they seemed to connect. It wasn't long before Clint was going through the same questions he'd asked Jack. Melissa blushed at some and giggled at others, but she seemed to be answering him honestly. "Do I enjoy giving blowjobs?" she asked Jack, her eyes glinting with amusement. "I love giving blowjobs," she replied to Clint. "And before you ask, yes I do swallow." Laughing, she added, "It's a lot less messier that way."

As they chatted about what positions she had tried, and what she liked, Jack teased her nipples through her T-shirt. There was no mistaking how aroused she was by all this dirty talk. "What about anal?" Clint asked eventually, and Jack held his breath. "Jack's been raving about what a gorgeous ass you have, and how men love to stare at it."

Melissa gave Jack a mock-sincere glare, and laughed. "Yes, my ass is perfect, but why are men so obsessed with anal?"

"If done right, it can be amazing - but you don't have to take my word for it. When you speak to my wife, Evelyn, you can ask her why she adores it."

It was all too much for Jack. With his hands, he encouraged Melissa to change position, until she straddled him where he sat. She lowered herself onto him without once looking away from the screen. Her pussy was so wet. Melissa moaned as she slid down his shaft, slowly, until he was completely inside her, and as she chatted - and no doubt flirted - with Clint, she rode Jack at her own gentle pace.