Author of Cuckoldry

She really was the perfect whore. Moments later he shuddered to a finish, adding a third helping of cum to her well used cunt - and, afterwards, kissed her tenderly on her sleeping lips. "Thank you, Melissa," he whispered. "I love you."

Cinderella

Evelyn phoned her early the following Friday morning. "I need a favour, and I promise it's one you'll enjoy. Old friends of ours are coming to dinner tonight, and we usually do a wife swap - but this time Clint and I are thinking to do it a bit differently."

Melissa could kind of guess where this was going. "Okay..." she prompted.

"Yeah, so basically we're looking for a couple of our gorgeous married girl-friends to be sex kittens tonight. You won't need to do anything you're uncomfortable with, but I know you love to suck and fuck with an audience."

"Hmm."

"And, of course, we'd love for you to stay over till Sunday. Just you, though, this time. We'll set up a camera for Jack to watch."

Melissa checked her calendar, but there was nothing major, and it sounded like an adventurous way to progress her new arrangement with Jack. "I can probably be there midafternoon."

"Awesome! But can you do a slight detour and pick up Cinderella on the way? I'll text you the address."

"I guess... Who's Cinderella?"

Evelyn laughed. "You'll see. Thanks, dear. Tonight will be great!"

Afterwards, Melissa stared at her phone. She'd just agreed to spend the whole weekend away from her husband, having sex with people who were not her husband, without even consulting her husband. She wondered whether to phone him and consult him now - but why disrupt his whole day. She'd leave him a note instead.

The phone chirped as the address came through.

It was early afternoon when she pulled up outside a large suburban home, the kind she could only dream of owning. It would be too big for her needs anyway. The man who opened the door was a few years older than her, not unattractive, and in good physical condition. He was dressed in a smart but casual fashion that somehow suited the house, as did the five-year-old girl clinging to his trouser leg.

"Um, hi," Melissa said, wondering if this was some practical joke of Evelyn's. "Is Cinderella here?"

The girl ran inside shouting, "Mommy!"

The father examined Melissa with fresh curiosity, quite openly undressing her with his eyes. It shocked her for a moment, until it occurred to her that he might have a very good idea what her weekend would be like. That he might be imagining her as the centerpiece of an orgy - and Melissa's inner exhibitionist was secretly thrilled.

Cinderella looked like a respectable suburban wife in office clothes. She was a little shorter than Melissa, her curly blonde hair was a few shades darker, and she had a pretty face with subtle make-up, designer specs and a no-nonsense expression. "I'll be out in a minute," she said, and disappeared inside again.

Five minutes later she climbed into the passenger seat, and gave a last wave to her husband and daughter. Melissa put the car in gear and pulled away. "Hi," she said, "I'm Melissa."

"Just a minute," Cinderella said, unlocking her phone and tapping quickly. She was calling someone. "Phil. Hi. Something's come up and I can't make the meeting this afternoon. Can you cover? ... Cool. Also, sorry sweetheart, but I'm going to have to cancel tonight. I promise I'll make it up to you next week. ... No, I'll be out of town all weekend. ... No, he has to stay at home and look after Sarah. ... If you must know, I just met a hot new girl. I promise I'll tell you all about it on Monday."

She sighed and turned to Melissa, holding up her phone. "Say hi to Phil."

"Hi, Phil," Melissa said in her sexiest voice.

"Happy?" Cinderella said, sitting back again. "Uh huh. Love you too. Bye..." She ended the call and snorted gently. "Men."

Melissa smiled. "So, I'm guessing your name's not really Cinderella."

Cinderella laughed. "Evelyn likes to think of herself as my fairy godmother, granting wishes of clothing and erotic adventure, while making sure I'm home by midnight. Although not this time, obviously. The name's Bethany."

Melissa twisted round to look at her so abruptly that she nearly steered the car off the road. "Fuck!" she hissed as she corrected the steering. "Fuck. Sorry." She glanced over at her passenger again, more carefully this time.

Bethany looked amused. "I guess you read the story, then."

"Uh, huh."

"What did you think of it?"

"It was hot. I wanted to be you."

Bethany laughed. "I'm sure it could be, if you wanted. Just tell Clint you want to be treated like a whore for a day."

Melissa, thinking back to the previous Saturday and her first ever extramarital fuck, considered she'd probably got off lightly. In Bethany's story, Cole-a.k.a.-Clint had been a pitiless bastard, determined not only to have his way with her but also to ensure she was left feeling cheap and degraded - which would have been horrifying if Bethany hadn't ended up loving it.

"So," she said, as they pulled onto the highway a few minutes later, "that was Scott?"

"That," Bethany concurred, "was Scott, my husband whose idea of marital bliss is staying home while I go out."

"Does it bother you?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes. It bothers me that one day Sarah will figure out that Cinderella has been doing a lot more than dancing with princes." She turned in her seat to get a better look at Melissa. "So, what's your story? Your husband like to watch?"

It was a strange thing to have to admit to anyone. "Yes."

"How long you been doing it?"

"Since last weekend."

Bethany whistled. "Practically a virgin. What's his name? Got any kids?"

"Jack, and no."

"Are you trying?" She laughed. "I guess not."

"No."

The traffic on the highway gradually eased. Bethany glanced round, unclipped her seat belt, and proceeded to strip out of her dress shirt. Her vest and bra followed suit, treating both Melissa and any sharp-eyed occupants passing in the other direction to an eyeful of her bared breasts. Unhurriedly, she took a pink T-shirt from her backpack and squeezed into it. The fit was tight and the thin material made the absence of a bra obvious.

Kicking off her sensible office shoes, Bethany wiggled out of her trousers and replaced them with a short, tartan skirt. Her knickers came off next, and with her legs spread wide to reveal her entirely hairless pussy, she snapped an intimate selfie.

"Who's that for?"

"My Instagram."

From her bag she extracted a pair of see-through stripper heels with high platforms, and a makeup kit. By the time she was done, Melissa's passenger had transformed from Bethany the serious suburban mom into Bethany the exotic dancer. "You really are Cinderella," she commented. "I love the lipstick."

Bethany's lips were now an intense fuchsia that made them look utterly kissable. Melissa hadn't kissed a girl since her wild college days - relatively wild, that is. Tame compared to recent events. "I can't tell you what a relief it is to meet someone who's already been through what I'm going through," she said. "For the past week or two I've been feeling like a pervert in a dysfunctional marriage."

Bethany raised an eyebrow and smiled slyly. "Well, technically you are."

Melissa laughed. "Yes, but now I know I'm not the only one."

"No." Bethany stared out of the window for a while, then turned suddenly and asked, "Ever done it with a girl?"

"No." Melissa could feel herself blushing. She had in fact just been thinking of kissing Bethany, and maybe going further. "You?"

"A few times. It can be fun, but it's not really my thing. Scott loves it, though."

On the few occasions Jack had raised the possibility of a threesome with a woman, Melissa had flatly refused. Not because she herself disliked the idea of being with another woman, but because she hated the idea of Jack being with another woman. But things were different now. "Evelyn did say there would be a camera," she mused aloud.

"Mmm, yes," Bethany said, darting a look of amusement towards Melissa, "and our poor husbands are without us all weekend long."

*

No one was home at Clint and Evelyn's, but Bethany plucked the spare key from a nearby plant pot and they let themselves in. Melissa noticed the camera immediately - on a tripod and aimed at the sofas and the sheepskin rug between - but it wasn't connected to anything. "Later, then," Bethany said.

"I need a shower first anyway," Melissa said and led the way upstairs to the guest bedroom. On the bed were two small piles of dark clothing, each topped with a pair of ankle boots, black with red laces and two-inch platforms. The piles were labelled, one 'Cinderella' and the other 'Melissa'. Between them was a makeup kit. "Well, at least I don't need to think what to wear."

"Or what not to wear," Bethany said, examining the garments. She studied what looked a bit like a black garter belt for a few seconds, and then her perplexed expression cleared and she wound it round her chest. It was an open cup bra, designed to accentuate the breasts without even attempting to cover them. "I may have to keep this."

Apart from the boots and the bra that wasn't a bra, there were only black stockings with a cuban heel and red seam, and an actual garter belt. Melissa showered first, but was still fighting to clip the stockings to the garter belt when Bethany emerged. "I can't get the seam straight," Melissa whined.

"It gets easier with practice." Bethany knelt down behind her and helped to adjust the stockings and fasten the garters. Melissa was acutely aware of the soft hands caressing her thighs, and the warm breath against her cheeks. Afterwards she returned the favour, kneeling behind Bethany. She smelled incredible, and it was a struggle to resist a more intimate exploration.

They helped with each other's ankle boots and bras, and must have looked like a pair of lesbian lovers getting ready for a night of passion, every glance and touch erotic - for Melissa, at least. She suspected Bethany wasn't even half as aroused as she was by it.

The lipstick was red - Dancer by Maybelline - applied in liquid form and supposedly long-lasting. Bethany chuckled. "This is about the only stuff that will survive a blowjob. Wait for it to dry, though."

Finally ready, visions in red and black, tottering on seven inch heels, they made their way downstairs again.

*

Clint was connecting up the camera to a laptop, and Evelyn was in the kitchen preparing food, but they were not alone. Standing beside Clint, sipping on a bottled beer, was a tall, athletic man with dark, penetrating eyes and jet black hair. His brown skin and facial features suggested to Melissa a blend of African and Arabic, but his accent was pure New York. "Jamal," he said, holding out his hand for Bethany and Melissa to shake.

There was no need for him to undress them with his eyes, for what little they wore concealed nothing. "Two beautiful young ladies," he said approvingly, and inserted himself between them as he guided them to the kitchen. As his muscular hand caressed her ass, Melissa had to remind herself that this was why she was there - to be a sex kitten, and to be treated like a possession. If he chose then and there to bend her over and fuck her in front of all the others, then that was perfectly fine.

"And this is my wife, Saranya."

Saranya was a drop dead gorgeous woman of Indian origin. Her brown skin was flawless, and her long black hair was braided into a ponytail. She smiled delightedly at Melissa and Bethany. "I love the uniform. Where's mine?"

"Upstairs," Evelyn said. "On the bed."

"I'll be right back." Saranya dashed off excitedly.

"Let's see you," Evelyn instructed, indicating that Bethany and Melissa should spin round slowly. "Acceptable," she concluded. To Bethany she gave a sheet of paper with a long list of instructions and said, "You are in charge of the kitchen." To Melissa she said, "No anal, I know, but any other reservations? You'll be serving me as well tonight, not just the men."

Melissa shook her head. "I don't think so."

"You are to address us as 'sir'. Understood?"

Melissa nodded her head. "Yes, sir." Master-slave role play was something she'd often enjoyed with Jack. She was curious to see how it would work with Evelyn.

"Good. Now, help Bethany. Set the table for three. And you're probably both hungry, so eat something now. You'll be working hard later."

"Yes, sir," they chorused together, and Evelyn left to get ready for the evening.

Home Alone

Jack came home to a dark and empty house, more than a little concerned. He had texted Melissa earlier suggesting a possible night out somewhere, maybe even a certain motel bar. All week they'd been having amazing sex, but watching her with Clint the previous weekend had only fed his desire to see her with other men.

There was a note in the kitchen: "Back Sunday. Spending the weekend with Clint and Evelyn."

Jack stared at it with a sense of conflict. He was upset she hadn't agreed it with him first, and upset that he wouldn't be there to watch, but also aroused by the thought of her on her knees sucking on Clint's cock. And he understood that she was making a point: "You don't get a say," she was saying to him. That was their agreement.

Ultimately, though he was frustrated not to be there to watch, she was keeping her end of the agreement. Sighing, he put a frozen pizza into the oven, popped the top off a bottle of cool beer, and changed out of his suit. Twenty minutes later, he was relaxing on the sofa, munching away with the TV on in the background and his tablet in his lap.

He found his way inevitably to Clint's story page, and clicked on a familiar favourite.

Cole threw Bethany onto the bed, onto her hands and knees, the latter parted wide so that he could admire her cum-filled pussy. He scooped up some of that slimy mixture with two fingers and pushed them into her mouth, and when she whined with complaint, he spanked her hard. "Don't pretend you're anything but a dirty cumslut," he growled, and spanked her again, this time across a thigh. "A slut like you deserves to be punished. Three..." The other thigh. "Four..." One cheek. "Five..." The other.

By the time he reached twenty, his hand was smarting and her thighs and cheeks had a rosy flush. Though she whimpered and panted as if this weren't far gentler than was good for her, her pussy betrayed her helpless arousal. Kneeling behind her, he penetrated that sweetness once again, thrusting with savage delight. "Tell me what a cum-hungry bitch you are," he demanded, and when she hesitated he smacked her hard.

"I'm a cum-hungry bitch," she cried.

Cole held himself still suddenly, and smiled as the cum-hungry bitch took over, thrusting herself back against him to swallow his length whole. He grinned over at the hidden camera, and hoped Scott was enjoying his wife's wanton abandonment.

A message notification interrupted his reading. It was from Clint. No text, just a Zoom link and passcode. Jack followed the instruction - and suddenly he was looking at the sheepskin rug in Clint and Evelyn's house. He could hear voices and noises in the background too, so it wasn't just a photo. It was live streaming.

Nothing was happening, but he guessed something would. It thrilled him that he would get to see after all, although it was a dreadful tease when there was nothing yet to see.

A pair of shapely legs walked past - dark skin and stockings, red-laced ankle boots with the highest stiletto heels he had ever seen. And then nothing again for a long time except indistinct voices and laughter. Nothing to see, and yet he hardly dared look away. Keeping the tablet in his line of sight and plugged into the charging cable, he tried to relax and watch TV, but his imagination was in overdrive.

Then suddenly Evelyn was there, in front of the camera, dressed only in a black leather underbust corset, a heavy zip up the front. Her huge breasts seemed to fill his screen. "Hi, Jack," she said. "Hi, Scott. Hope you guys enjoy the show." She sat in the middle of one of the two cream leather sofas, resting her arms along the back, spreading her legs wide. "Come here, girls," she called, and Jack heard a chorus of "Yes, sir."

And as fast as that, Jack's cock surged to life, erecting swiftly. The dark-skinned girl arrived first and he finally got a proper look at her. She looked like a Bollywood actress who had stumbled onto the set of a porn movie. Following instructions, she sat on Evelyn's left and bent to suck hungrily on a nipple. A second girl appeared, similar in appearance to Melissa but shorter, her blonde hair darker than Melissa's and curly where Melissa's was straight. Also, this one wore specs, and looked maybe a few years older. And, like the first girl, she was sexy as hell, dressed in the same erotic black-and-red lingerie and high stilettos. She sat on Evelyn's right, and likewise bent to suck on a nipple.

Evelyn sighed happily, clearly enjoying this double attention from two gorgeous and seriously hot women. A third girl - Melissa - arrived on the scene, dressed similarly. She had dressed sexy for him on many occasions, but never once had she looked so ravishingly beautiful. Perhaps it was the way those elegant stripper heels stretched her stocking-clad legs, or perhaps it was the way the open-cup bra emphasized her breasts, or perhaps it was just the perfection of her red-painted lips that seemed to mourn the absence of a cock.

Jack stroked his hard, throbbing cock as he watched his wife kneel between Evelyn's legs. For someone who had always been so against the idea of a threesome with a girl, she was certainly quick to embrace this quartet of lesbian lust.

He wondered who else was watching. Scott, Evelyn had said. He'd read that name earlier, in Clint's story. The one with Bethany and Cole. Was it possible? That Scott was a real person? Another husband delighting in another man's use of his wife? And did that mean the second girl was his wife, Bethany?

And what of the first girl, the Indian one... One of Clint's stories was an exotic fantasy, a Hindu goddess given by her husband to a mortal man for a night of divine pleasure. She'd had a nice name, what was it?

Saranyu. That was it. Was this Saranyu in the flesh? Was her husband watching too?

There was no one to answer his questions, though. He could only watch and wonder. He watched, fascinated, as his wife devoured Evelyn's pussy. He wished he could be there, not merely watching but driving his hard cock into her pussy from behind.

Two men, both entirely naked, arrived and sat on the opposite sofa, also watching. One was Clint himself, author of the stories that had so seduced him, and so far the only man he had seen Melissa with. The other was an athletic brown man who didn't look Indian to Jack. African, possibly. He possessed a cock of extraordinary length, longer ever than Clint's impressive member, though perhaps not as thick. It was difficult to tell since neither man was fully erect.

Evelyn, clearly, was loving it. With her hands she held the two women either side of her, held their mouths pressed against her breasts, and her hips twitched restlessly in response to Melissa's loving. Jack wished he could see in greater detail what his wife was doing, but it was enough to see even this much. Excited though he was, he didn't want to come too soon.

Clint stood and walked behind Saranyu, stroking his huge, thick member to get it hard, and gently eased into the brown woman's pussy. At least, Jack assumed it was her pussy. Her angle to the camera made it difficult to see. The other man pulled Bethany away from Evelyn's breast and had her suck his long, brown cock until its full rigid length could be truly appreciated. "Get under," he said.