Drawing the Line

Sandra and I have been married 25 years, three years longer than I have been at the same law firm in Springfield. And, while I have gone from intern to senior business partner, my status as husband has taken a hit lately.

With both of our daughters having left the nest four years ago, we found that sex had become stale and, in the words of Sandra, "not very satisfying". In contrast to some of my philandering associates at work, I have never taken advantage of the power a lawyer can have over clients and associates. Remaining faithful to Sandra has always been a priority for me.

So, when one of the girls in her office mentioned Hedonism, a resort that provides playrooms for couples that are into swinging, Sandra suggested that we dip our toes in the lifestyle. I thought it was worth a try, but it turns out that it worked out so much better for Sandra than for me.

While I loved being in the same room as her, with each of us playing with a spouse, I found that I wasn't very interested in the wife I was playing with. It was our first encounter and I was more focused on Sandra's pleasures, and how the husband was in giving them to her. Despite having an enthusiastic and vivacious wife under or over me, I just couldn't get into it.

On our fifth night there, we met a couple in their late thirties and went back to their room. To see Sandra's eyes perk up when the husband stepped out of his underwear to reveal a hefty, fat cock, peaked my interest. And while his wife seemed less than excited at what I brought to the bedroom, (and who could blame her at the obvious size difference), the sounds Sandra made as her pussy tried to accommodate his girth and length, made me harder than I have ever been.

As I tried to focus on giving his wife a good, hard fuck, hearing Sandra's moans and grunts brought me to orgasm in barely a minute. I felt terrible as my flaccid cock fell from my lover because it was obvious from Sandra's first climax that her lover was skilled and full of stamina, and I clearly was not.

His wife, not even once enjoying an orgasm from my pounding, whispered in my ear as she watched them, "Please go down on me. I want to cum." I have many times gone down on Sandra after we've fucked, because she can't climax from me being inside her, so the thought of tasting my own semen isn't at all repulsive.

While her eyes remained glued to my wife getting completely lost in the railing the husband was delivering, I worked my way past her small beasts and began to feast on her warm, gooey pussy. Her hands held my head tightly, my hands cupped her ass cheeks, and soon she was thrusting her hips while her body quaked. At least my tongue didn't let me down.

She crossed her legs around the back of my head while the room filled with the sounds of his manly groans. I spent the next few minutes sucking and licking her clit and pussy. "That's it, honey. Fill her pussy up," declared the wife while I finished mopping my own seed from her.

When I emerged from the woman's sopping pussy, my face glistening with our juices, the husband got up from the other bed and took his wife by the hand. He was still almost fully hard, so I thought maybe he hadn't cum inside Sandra.

He said to his wife, "C'mon, Lynn, let's go shower."

His wife smiled brightly, and as they walked to the bathroom, I looked across and Sandra was lying on her back, totally disheveled; her breath returning the normal. His wife said, before the door closed behind them, "You should take care of her too. You have a great tongue for that."

I got up and slid in beside my grinning wife and looked her over. Sandra's neck and breasts were covered in hickeys, her mascara was smudged and her fingers were toying with her pussy, He had, in fact, certainly ejaculated inside Sandra, and some of it was oozing from Sandra's gaped opening.

Her finger scooped some of his spunk and teased her clitoris with it, making a slimy, silver pool all around it. Sandra saw how intensely I was gazing at her pussy, and asked, "Can you make me cum one more time?" It seemed taboo to lick up some other man's cum, I thought, but how much different could it be?

I crawled between Sandra's wide spread thighs and dipped my tongue into the pool at the tip of her clit. She moaned softly, and said, "No. Clean me up, first. Like you did her." Her hands cupped my ears and guided me to lower, into the heady mixture of their body fluids. His cum was cool to the touch where it drizzled from Sandra's labia, but as soon as my tongue pushed into his cum pudding, the gooey mass was oh, so warm. "That's it," she cooed, "Eat me." My tongue flicked deep into Sandra's recesses I lapped up his salty spunk. My cock was half-hard already as Sandra began to hump my face.

Sandra moaned more loudly while I tended to her needs. Soon, I had her cumming hard, and more of their juices flowed easily into my mouth and between her legs. When the other couple returned from the washroom, the four of us dressed and said our goodbyes.

Back in our room, Sandra mentioned how distracted I seemed when fucking his wife. I told her how hot it was just so see her receiving pleasure. After a long talk, we decided that it might be better if we just found a guy for her to play with, while I watched. We found two single guys before the end of the week, and both of us loved that scenario. Able-bodied lovers gave her multiple orgasms while I would sit by the bed and jack off. The one time, the guy told her to such his cock while I performed clean up duties. This developed into a full-blown cuckold lifestyle for more than two years.

Now, most people will tell you that it doesn't take long for word to get around when a co-worker is cheating on his or her spouse at work. That is very true for lawyers as well. Either a lawyer would gloat about their adventures, or a spouse would catch one red-handed, and then the office whispers would only get louder.

What I hadn't anticipated was that the same whispers occurred when my wife took on her latest bull, James. Questions arose when they were seen fine dining together, despite my outright lie that he was just an old friend. I noticed conversations ending abruptly when I entered the office. One afternoon my long-time secretary, Susan, asked me if everything was okay at home.

Susan came into my office that morning and closed the door behind her. She stood at my desk, hands behind her and looking quite nervous. "Charles, I really don't mean to pry, but rumors going around the office are that Sandy seemed quite intimate with the guy she was with at the restaurant."

"Susan, thank you so much for being up front like this. I appreciate your candor. I can assure you that everything is just fine between us. Leave others to their gossip. They will see over time that their suggestions are unfounded, and that Sandra and I have a very solid relationship."

"Oh, thank you. I was so worried things might not be okay for you."

I wasn't about to tell anyone that we had already planned Sandra and James' last hookup to the last detail, with rules and limitations expected. Nor would I have confided that, while they were having sex, I was relegated to cleaning out the garage. After their first tryst, James had immediately taken control, saying that he would decide if and when I was invited to watch them interact. And, Sandra seemed to enjoy his power over me both sexually and psychologically.

I had soon built an album of pictures and videos sent by Sandra from our bedroom or hotel room, to keep me occupied while waiting from them to finish. I actually like to keep busy when my wife is playing elsewhere, as it keeps me from experiencing the nervousness and angst that comes with this lifestyle. I was enthralled with how much Sandra was laughing and smiling in each pic or video sent to my phone. And I was ecstatic when Sandra would come home in the early morning hours, her hair disheveled, and clothes asunder. She had advised me not to wait up, but my cock had been hard almost the entire time, and I dared not touch it, so as not to have an even explosive climax.

Since the first time at Hedonism, when I had gone down on Sandra after her lover finished inside her, she no longer had to ask. She stood at the end of the bed while I unbuttoned, unzipped, unclasped and removed all but one article of clothing from her sensuous body. My wife, at 5' 3", with long dark hair and 34B breasts is any man's dream fuck. Her mascara and blood red lipstick were well smeared. I had made sure to leave her panties in place, as I enjoy that unwrapping as part of the act. We kissed a long, French kiss, and she softly offered, "Can I just lay back tonight? I'm too tired to ride your face."

"Of course," I said, slipping out of my pajamas; my 5-1/2" soldier standing at the ready. I followed my wife to the bed, where she flopped down on my side and pulled a pillow under her head so she could witness my feasting of her well-used kitty.

"Be careful, Cucky. James was very rough tonight. I've already cum too many times to count." I have witnessed her multiple orgasms when James hefty cock slams her to perfection, and have lost count of the number of orgasms she has, on evenings that I've been allowed in the room. I positioned myself between her thighs, my arms hooking under them and along her rib cage so I could toy with Sandra's dark brown nipples, while I munched at her snatch. She added, matter-of-factly, "Maybe just go down long enough to get yourself off."

Sandra didn't want me to get her off as well? The sounds she makes when I clean her pussy out are the only sounds of satisfaction that I am able to give her. Never have I heard her moan and groan like that with my meager cock inside. Sandra's orgasms are a very intense part of cleaning her up. I focused on the silver sludge that was being strained by the fine mesh of her panty gusset. I used my tongue to push the fabric to one side and gazed at the baby smooth skin and sticky slit before me.

Normally I will work myself in a parallel frenzy, jacking fiercely, and as Sandra gets closer to climax, I would attempt to time my cumming with hers. Tonight I would have to settle for the wet smacking sounds of my tongue slathering up her and James' mess, and maybe that would be enough for me to finish. Sandra seemed hurried tonight, maybe just over-tired from his sexual prowess. Then she offered, "Why don't you just cum on my kitty?"

I rose up on my knees and began to jerk off, trying to not keep her waiting. I was getting nowhere, my cock hard but not feeling like I was getting close. "Are you losing it again?" asked Sandra, looking at me trying to milk my cock.

"No, just give me a minute." I was panicking a bit, worried I might not finish.

"Oh, God, Chuck," she said, rolling over onto hands and knees. "Maybe this will help." I just stared at Sandra's wide hips and realized that her anus was red and raw looking.

"Did he fuck you there?" I didn't even notice that I was stroking even faster.

"Yes. James wanted my ass and I gave it to him." I became frenzied then, knowing that even with my little cock, Sandra had never allowed me to enter her back there. And now, she had given herself anally to him as well.

"Ohhh, fuck!" I called out, and immediately jets of cum spewed from me, all over her alabaster backside. When my cock stopped spurting, I wiped the head of it on her puckered folds.

"You can eat that too, if you want." Sandra rested her head in the pillows and wriggled her hips seductively. Without thought, I began long, slow licks up and down her backside, along the inside folds of her cheeks, and finally to her red puckered opening. She pushed back into me, telling me she what she wanted. I pushed my tongue past the tightness of her sphincter and licked the wet, warm cavern inside.

Once I finished, Sandra fell to the bed. Her voice was muffled beneath the pillows. "That's my good cucky. Just pull the blankets up, please." I tucked my wife in and retreated to the bathroom to wash up. Seeing my face glazed up and knowing I had eaten my wife's ass for her, just sent tremors down my body. I padded back to the darkened room and slid in behind Sandra as the big spoon. Her arm rested on my thigh and we both fell into a deep sleep.

James would soon become her one and only bull, and with that came more rules, mostly for me, and always at his insistence. He decided if I could listen only, or watch, or even perform acts for their entertainment, and Sandra took delight in whatever his whims were that day.

I put up with kneeling in the corner with my back to them, or being told to clean him off if I wanted oral access to my own wife. I consented to lying down and jacking off onto my own chest after I had finished servicing them, and then lying there in my own mess while they showered and returned to enjoy my humiliation.

I was surprised when James arrived one Saturday morning to say we were taking a road trip. With them having learned the lesson of not being seen together locally, he decided that our next adventure would be in Allentown, almost an hour north.

I wasn't expecting company that morning and was dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt. James arrived in a form fitting polo shirt and khaki pants. I had wondered why Sandra had spent so much time in the bathroom, but when she came downstairs after I let James in, it was obvious she knew he was coming. Sandra wore a black mini skirt, more fitting a night on the town, with a cream coloured blouse with no bra beneath, and a pearl necklace.

I offered to change but he insisted it wasn't necessary. I would be the chauffeur and they would ride in the back. As James gave directions, I heard the sound of a zipper, followed by wet, sucking noises. When I reached to tilt the rearview mirror down I was told to keep my eyes on the road.

As we approached exit 19, James said, "Make a left at the light and... ugh, mmmm, ohhhh" I knew those noises well and was sure that the gagging sounds Sandra made right after indicated that her oral task was complete. My cock was stiff as I kept driving. The next light turned red and suddenly Sandra popped up between the front seats and opened her mouth.

I turned to see a pool of James' cum floating on Sandra's tongue. She leaned into me and kissed me, her tongue pushing my lips apart and spitting his thick wad into my mouth. I gulped it down and tongued my wife, until a horn blasted behind us.

Sandra retreated to her seat and James said, "See? We're off to a fine start!"

I tensed as Sandra's hand sneaked up and took hold of my junk through my jeans.

"Yeah," she confirmed with a giggle, "he's hard as a rock now."

"Pull in here," called James, and I drove into the small parking lot of a store called The Love Cave. We drove nearly an hour to visit a sex shop.

There were two young female clerks working, and when James directed Sandra and I to look around, he went directly to the twenty-year-old Goth chick with an eyebrow and tongue piercing. "Oh, here they are," said Sandra, pointing to a shelf with a bunch of cock cages on them. By this time, James had returned with the same clerk, who was smiling as though she were in on the joke.

"Can I help you, Miss?"

Sandra spoke up, "Um yes, we need to find the right size cage for my husband. He had an accident the last time we let him watch us, and my boyfriend wants to keep that from happening again." It was true that I had become so excited seeing Sandra squirt all over James' dick while riding him cowgirl, that I came unannounced. This was a hard rule that James had instilled, and I broke it. The cuck never cums until told.

I had thought that my punishment was complete when they sent me out of our bedroom to vacuum James' truck while they finished. And Sandra denied me any post coital interactions when James left. Clearly, I had underestimated the repercussions of breaking his rule.

The clerk offered, "It's a fifty dollar charge for fitting. We need to find the right size."

"But I'm just over five..." I did not want to be fit in public and figured given my size, she would know which model to offer.

No one even listened to my plea. Sandra interrupted with, "Do you have cash, Cucky?"

The girl stifled a giggle while I reached for my wallet. She called to the other clerk, "We are going to the back room for a fitting." Her co-worker waved her off and we walked to the back of the shop, behind a curtain.

"You can sit there," she said to James, who pulled two stools to where we stood. "Alright, Daddy. Pants down." I unbuckled and slid them to the floor. My underwear was bulging with my erection.

"Are you hiding a budgie in there," asked the clerk with a cackle. "Tighty whities too! Now crouch down just a little." I complied and stood there with my cock raging hard from both the degradation and the thought of the young girl seeing me and my less than average cock.

"You'll need this," she said, taking a dog bowl from the floor and handing it to me. "Don't get any of your cum on my floor or you'll be cleaning it up!"

James called out, "Oh, he's good at that!"

The clerk took a squeeze bottle from a nearby table and squirted a large glob onto her hand. "There's a proper way to fit these things, you know. Hands behind your back!" I complied, and she applied a liberal amount of lube to my shaft and began stroking me with one hand while slathering my nut sack with lube with her other hand.

I knew that her tiny hands would have me off in no time, but when she slipped her middle finger past my balls and directly into my bottom, her fingertip found my prostate and flicked against it like she was fingering her clit.

"Ohhh, fuck!" I was about to explode, so I positioned the bowl just in front of my dick head. Her right hand was stroking me at a furious pace, and she watched for the obvious cock twitch that would bring my release. At that exact moment, she stopped stroking my shaft and inserted a second finger in my anus.

My cock flailed, untouched, and began to spew cum like I've never felt before. Jets splashed into the stainless bowl. I could only watch as the rest of my spunk drooled down my dick like candle wax. The normal release of endorphins when ejaculating were not there, as the girl had well executed what she called 'a ruined orgasm'. The dog bowl of my wasted climax told me how my enjoyment is always secondary, whenever my wife or her bull see fit.

More cum drooled as my cock shriveled up until only the spear shape tip remained in view. The girl opened the box and pulled out a white metallic cap and a ring that she slipped my balls through. She placed the cap over my cock and set a tiny padlock in place.

"There ya go, sport," she said, with a smile. I pulled up my underwear and pants without a word. I told myself that I deserved all of this for failing to follow the rules. The girl handed Sandra the keys and from that day on, she (or James' orders) decided whether I was free to touch myself.

It was a very quiet ride home, other than James letting me know that I would not be free of the device until the following Friday. I was to attend our bedroom for his visits on Monday and Wednesday, but there would be neither relief for me, nor any clean up duties allowed until Friday.

Because our love life had been so enriched since James had become a regular, I was in the habit of cumming nearly every day - whether it was being with, watching them, or masturbating to memories, videos or pictures. I had no idea of the ramifications of being unable to ejaculate for a week.

Every day I became more unbelievably horny than the last, and constantly pulling at the constrictive appliance. I was instructed to bring the step stool from the kitchen so I could sit there while James and Sandra kissed, licked, played and fucked.

Because the stool sits so low, my knees were almost at shoulder height, and my cock dangled lifelessly between my legs. Precum spilled in tendrils as my mind reacted to the erotic goings on in our marital bed.