Forbidden

Everyone involved is 18 years of age or older...

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I'll just come right out and say it; I'm not a good person. In fact, some would call be a bad or evil person. I'm borderline psychopathic. I say borderline because yes, I do feel guilt at times. But like most people, I am able to put the guilt in a box, throw that box to the back of my mind, and ignore its very existence. I say psychopathic because I can do it better than probably ninety percent of the world's population.

You are probably wondering why I say I'm a bad person, right? Well, you see, I have a fetish. A fetish? Well, that's not so bad! You're probably thinking! You might want to hold off on exonerating me just yet. But you also needn't worry, it's got nothing to do with kids. I think anyone who touches a kid ought to have their balls crushed in a vice while they are still conscious. And after subsequent torture has brought them to the brink of sanity, they ought to have a shotgun shoved all the way up their asses before the trigger is pulled.

But wait, you might ask. If I am a borderline psychopath capable of ignoring any guilt over my actions, the logical question that follows is; why am I pouring out my soul for the world? Is this a confession? Maybe, is the best I can do with that question. But if I'm being totally honest, I know that the events I'm about to describe are unbelievable to the rational mind. Everyone knows that magic doesn't exist! Right?

And so, truth will be treated as no more than fantasy from a kinky mind on the net.

Let me properly introduce myself. I'm Job, I've always hated that name. Who gave parents the bright idea to call their kid "work"? Anyway, I'm Job, forty two years old with a wife, three sons and a daughter. If you can believe it, I had all of them between the age of twenty and twenty three. The first two were twins, I had my third son a year later, and my daughter a year after that. You might be wondering what I was thinking, but I was young and in love (translation, horny and stupid!). The only smart thing my actions, was the fact that I had them all by the same woman, luckily. I had to drop out of graduate school soon after to join the military to support my family.

Anyway, I'm six foot three, and still very much in shape due to my rigorous exercise regime. I work for a high end private security firm and so, being fit is also partly a requirement for my line of work. I'm now ex-military, I was a highly trained member of a division I am not at liberty to divulge. But let's just say I always have a plan of how to kill everyone in the room and an exfiltration strategy at hand should I need it. I know my way around quite a range of weapons and have at one point or the other probably used most of them to end someone's life.

I am one of the top paid agents in the firm I work for, and given the kind of clients we serve, it's safe to say, I can afford to live easy. Especially now that almost all of my kids are out of the house except for my youngest daughter. I live in a penthouse in the kind of upper class neighborhood that actually has a fence around it.

My wife, Tammy. Also in great shape, but in her case it's largely because I required it of her. If I was going to make an effort to look good, then she damn sure wasn't going to sit around and grow fat. Besides, she quit working months after I landed this job with the firm ten years ago and became a stay at home mom. And given the fact that we've always had a cleaning service since before she quit working, what else would she be doing all day?

She has golden blonde hair which she always wore in a ponytail, so that her face was even more visible. Even at forty, my wife still turned heads with her beauty and physique. She had double D's with a bit of sag due to her age, a narrow waist and wide hips, but her best feature as far as I was concerned, was her ass. Damn that ass! She'd always had a great ass, but years in the gym had made it the kind that you could bounce a quarter off!

Unfortunately, what nature gave her in looks, it withheld in brains. A charitable way of putting it is, I married her for looks, not brains. But if one is not feeling so charitable and is just plain frank, my wife can be a total airhead most of the times. I sometimes joke at her expense, that the smartest thing to ever enter her head, was my dick. She laughs at the joke every time, then gets on her knees and asks me to make her smarter. Whether she gets it, I honestly can't tell.

In an odd twist of fate, my three sons took after her intellectually, while my daughter took after me. My son's however, were all good at sports and managed to get themselves scholarships and even join professional teams in their respective sports. The twins in football and their younger brother in basketball, Obviously, I'm not going to tell you who they are or which teams they currently play for. But for the purposes of this narration, let's just call them Chad, Brad and Eric..

My daughter, we'll call her Kristi, got the best of both worlds, her mother's beauty and body, and my sharp wits. She's just finished high school and should be joining university in the fall (needless to say, I'm not going to tell you which university either). Given the kind of family she's been born into, she'd be the odd one out if she didn't work out or engage in some physical activity, so she joins her mother and I regularly on our workouts.

Her hair, like mine, was black. But like her mother, she always wore it in a ponytail. While a C cup in the chest area, my daughter's big ass was every bit as hypnotic as her mother's. You might feel the need to judge me for checking out my daughter but after all the hours I have seen her on a treadmill over the years, I'd have to be blind not to have noticed it.

That's about as much as I'm able to divulge about myself without compromising my identity. But I'm sure the question that has been on your mind all this while is, what is my damn fetish? Well, it's married women. A woman that another man calls his own. A woman that some poor sap is probably breaking himself in half to provide for. A woman some man is deeply and madly in love with!

Now, you might be thinking, I'm into swinging and cuckolding. You would be wrong! I am very territorial with my wife. Anyone who tries to get into her pants would probably disappear without a trace and never be heard from again. I can neither confirm nor deny that this has already happened once or twice before. Also, I think that any man that would willingly watch his wife be fucked by another man is weak an pathetic. I would draw no satisfaction from taking such a man's wife, I would actually be doing them a favor if I did. No, the kind of wife I'm talking about is the one attached to a devoted sucker who thinks she is faithful and trusts her completely. The thought of taking that forbidden fruit from right under the nose said husband, that turns me on to no end.

You might be asking, does this mean that I am unfaithful to my wife? Believe it or not up until about two days ago, the answer to that question was no! I am not in the habit of shitting the bed where I sleep, and things like this were the kind that came to bite you in the ass when you were least expecting it. So up until two days ago, I'd played the part of a good husband and stayed faithful..

So then, how did I come to figure out that I had this fetish? You might wonder. Well that happened before I married Tammy (hey, I said, I've never been unfaithful to my wife, I said nothing about when she was my girlfriend...). Tammy and I didn't get married till I was like, twenty seven, by then, I'd already spent four years in the military. In one of those years, at a location I can't disclose in the middle east, I was tasked with interrogating a man we had captured in one of those operations that "never happened". It was a by any means necessary, kind of interrogation to gain time-sensitive intel that would be vital to capturing a high value target.

Hours into the interrogation the man was a lot bloodier with his left eye almost swollen shut but no more talkative than when we began. I'd hoped to keep the wife and eighteen year old son out of the interrogation but time was running out and my superiors weren't nearly as charitable as I was. The moment other soldiers dragged the pair into the room, his expression changed. Up until that moment, he hadn't been aware of the fact that we had them in custody.

However, after the initial shock, he went back to playing dumb. At this point, It had become quite clear that this guy was willing to die for his cause, further torture to him would just be a waste of time. At this point, I would have to either start torturing the son and or his wife, something I wasn't particularly keen on. I made one last plea to him, asking him to think about his family. Apart from his jaw clenching, he said nothing.

"Fine, have it your way," had been my resigned response. But while I had a cold emotionless expression on the outside, my mind was working overtime to try and figure out how to avoid torturing two innocent people that were only linked to this through the man that was clearly willing to sacrifice them to his cause. In the end , I came to a conclusion and a plan of action that was no less heinous but one I could live with.

I ripped off the burqa from the man's wife and folding it into one long strip, I Blindfolded the man's son and handcuffed him to a chair at the corner of the room. I then bent the woman over the table to which his bloody husband was handcuffed. I pulled her long black attire up over her waist to expose her ass. And in spite of myself and the situation I was in, I had to admit to myself that she had one hell of an ass.

Of all things, under the black attire she had sky blue panties underneath. I had to fight off a smile threatening to cross my lips. I'm not sure whether it was all a farce of not, but despite all they crying and pleading with her husband to spare her this fate, from where I stood, I could see the wet spot on her panties that was rapidly expanding. I said nothing of it, because I saw no need to humiliate her any further, though I suspect that would have her on all the more. Besides, if the husband had known that she was turned on by all this, he would have disowned her right there and then. If that happened, I could have flayed her right before his eyes and he wouldn't have cared.

I pulled down my zipper as audibly as possible as part of the psychological torture. While I have never felt the need to brag about it, I am well endowed, some might even call me hung. At ten inches in length, my cock with more girth than most ladies can wrap their dainty fingers around.

After allowing her to beg her husband and continue to soak her panties a little more, I roughly ripped the panties off her waist and shoved it into her mouth as a makeshift gag. Holding it by the base, I proceeded to audibly smack my slab of meat against her cunt. Whether he discerned what the noises meant or not, I'll never know, but her sopping cunt made wet noises as a result of my fat head smacking against it. Her thighs trembled a little with a mix of both fear and anticipation.

I slowly started running my fat head up and down her wet pussy, lubricating the head with her juices. While at the front she was still crying and begging her husband with her expression, her hips were almost on autopilot gyrating, trying to get me to enter her. How she managed to do this without betraying herself to her husband was beyond me. However, if it was even possible, her antics were getting me even harder. At last, I acquiesced and lined my head with her cunt.

"Okay, Okay! I'll tell you what you want to know!"

Whether out of love for his wife, or being too proud to let an infidel take his beautiful wife, I didn't know and I didn't care! It seemed that I had finally gotten through the walls he'd put up.

"Tell me everything!" I'd growled coldly.

I had him spill his guts which I discreetly continued to rub my cock against his wife's pussy lips, paying special attention to her pleasure nub. The more her husband spoke, the more defeated he looked, and the more defeated he looked, the more her quim leaked onto my pole. I discreetly spread her juices onto my dick till it was glistening in the light of the bulb above my head.

I'm very good at spotting a liar, always have been and in that moment, I knew the man was telling the whole truth. The men that were probably stoically observing my "interrogation" from behind the one way mirror, did as well. However, I was too far gone at this point and so after the man finally finished speaking and answering all my questions, I quipped. "I don't believe you."

Had there not been a gag in her mouth, the room would have probably been filled with her moans as I drove my schlong deep into her super tight pussy. At this point the man and his son started to shout obscenities at me both in English and Arabic as I pummeled into her wife like my very life depended on it.

"Tell me everything you know!" I shouted at him smacking his wife's ass hard for effect.

"I've told you everything I know you damn kaffir!" he shouted back at me.

By now, his wife's face was down on the table. He might have thought it was in shame, but given how her pussy kept on spasming and twitching around my cock, I knew it was for a totally different reason. Her orgasm wasn't far off.

"No, you've told me lies!" I shot back driving my dick into her wife at the last word, hard enough that my hips smacked her ass. She'd actually taken my whole meat. "I want the truth," I snapped maintaining an air of composure despite pleasure crashing over me like waves on a beach.

I couldn't believe just how tight his wife was. If we had met under different circumstances and she had told me that she was a virgin, I would have believed her. Clearly, the man was lacking below the belt, and I was hitting places in his wife that he could never even dream of. I had the man repeat all that he'd already told me while I continued to take his wife. She finally couldn't take it anymore and the walls of her cunt collapsed around my cock like a steel vice. She actually was a squirter, and squirt she did. Her waist almost violently shook as her pussy gushed love juice onto my uniform.

Try as she would, she could no longer hide her moans, even through the gag. The man however, was too far gone in his seesaw of shouting insults and trying to convince me that he wasn't lying, to notice. Her hips started meeting me halfway as I thrust into her. I was giving her, what her husband had failed to give her in all their years of marriage, the thought fueled me, driving me past the point of no return. I emptied myself deep inside her wife, and from the way she was pushing hard against me, she didn't want it any other way.

When I finally withdrew from her and let her go, she fell to the floor on her ass. Her orgasm-weakened legs unable to support her. I've never seen a man's eyes filled with so such hate as when his wife's body dropped from view and he found himself looking at my fat cock glistening with his wife's vaginal juices, and the large wet spot left by his wife's orgasm. Reaching down, I grabbed a generous amount of his wife's long hair and used it to clean myself. From below the table, his wife looked up at me adoringly and allowed me to do it. I squeezed out the last drops of cum onto her face and from the smile that played on her face as I did, you might have thought I was giving her the best present ever! Being careful not to rise above the table into her husband's view, she brought her lips to the head of my cock and kissed reverently. Given the length of my cock, there wasn't much risk of her being seen anyway.

I finally put my dick away and with a cruel smile, thanked him for his cooperation. I walked out of the room as another soldier walked in after me. Three shots rang out a short while later, as I was being congratulated by my superiors. A week later, I was promoted.

After reading that, you might think, I'm an evil scumbag. And you might also be tempted to think, I care what you think. But only one of those propositions is true and the other false. I'd advise you to go back and read the very first paragraph of this narration and decide for yourself which is which.

Anyway, this incident stuck with me ever since. I never found myself in a similar situation for the rest of my service neither did I expect to. My naturally curious mind picked apart the situation trying to figure out what it was about the situation that got me so turned on. I watched a few cuckold porn videos to see if they worked for me, but I always found myself being annoyed instead of aroused at the weak wimp of a husband or boyfriend that allowed their woman to be taken without doing a thing about it.

The more I turned it over in my mind over the years, the more I came to figure out what it truly was. The fact that the man's wife managed to convince him that she still loved him, that she wasn't fucking me because she wanted to but it was being forced on her. The way she managed to evoke the response of a loving and caring, even jealous husband from him, all the while partaking in the deliciously forbidden act of carnal pleasure right before his eyes. I had taken a man's most prized possession from him right from under his nose even while he looked on. I had taken his wife's sexual submission. Not only had I fucked her, but I had made her want to fuck me even while he was very much there.

And so, that is how I discovered my fetish. But as I said, nothing like this happened ever again. Two years after this, I married Tammy, and have been faithful ever since. But all that changed two days ago...