Futa and The Cuck's Wife Ch. 03

Part 3 in this tale. The morning after. Thank you for those who enjoyed this kinky adventure.

Andrew finally awoke in the early morning, the sun had not yet been rising, save for the orange lights of the early flames of the orb casting through the window. The warm fleshy sensation bothered him when he awoke, rather, his boxer briefs were still on. Good. Had enough sense to put those on before he finally retired after being made a, he dared not even think of the word, to Isabella, whose arms rolled under and over him. One of her hands was right by his waist, while the other rested over his peck like a breast was supposed to be there, the red painted nails scratched him gently. A breast was not supposed to be there, thank God, there wasn't one.

But to say that was the most disconcerting thing would be putting it lightly, for a giant rod of meat was pushed through his legs, and it was sternly placed. Unsure if Isabella woke up with the morning wood, or what have you, or if she was awake or a sleep, or should any good nature in the world that was the reality he didn't want to accept, she was perpetually erect. Which was of course ridiculous, but why in anyone's name he dares mutter, was she not wearing any pajamas, or panties? Even no shirt, he knew, the warmth of her chest brushing beside him, the nipples pressed against him like dirty little pillows. It was like a bat was between her legs, and greatly caused him to question his manhood.

It was after all in question since Isabella already came numerous times into his wife, Emma, who apparently was already with child, Isabella's child. Not his. Of such reality, he was going to have too---how was child custody going to work? Goodness, another way in which Isabella found herself grafted into Andrew's family, that, despite his best efforts still wanted nothing to do with, despite her being intimately friendly and violent towards him in more ways than one. His marriage, he loved Emma, but this, this was far too much.

He felt a movement in the bed with the squeaks of the iron spirals that made the bed on which he laid. Isabella's cock moved gently, twitching as it pressed hard against his testicles, and he moved gently up, her warm hand removing itself from his pec, making its way down the side of his body. Chilling, he gritted his teeth as he tried to roll away, had her hand not already reached into his briefs, and grabbed both the base of his dick, and his balls, squeezing tightly. An index finger, he felt, scratching the bottom of his scrotum, and he wanted to yelp.

"Good morning," she spoke sensually into his ear, a tongue licking his earlobe. Blood pumped into his penis, but her grip kept it from flowing all the way to the tip. "Someone's excited this morning, but we haven't had breakfast yet. Do you want something?"

"I'm going too--"

"I brewed something special for you," she said, now biting his ear. "Come on."

She and he sat up, and he wanted to leave the bed, which he jumped off promptly to head to the wardrobe to grab his own attire, to be free from her just a moment, had not a cold voice entered the room with her disappointment. "It's not polite to deny gifts, Andrew," her cold voice brought him to a stop. "Come here, Andrew, I have something for you."

Turning awkwardly, he saw her, leaning forward with an elbow propping her chin up from her knee, and the long wood drooping down to the floor, already, precum dripped out of it. She's insatiable! He thought as a mouth dropped open, and she took her free hand and pointed at him, before curling the finger to motion him to come hither, and so, reluctantly, he did with quavering steps, and a quavering mind.

"I brewed you with lots of protein, you need to be big and strong, Andrew," she said, pointing downwards and without another moment of hesitation, he dropped on his knees bowing. He didn't look up to her, but a voice of chuckles escaped her lips as blood flowed to the tip, flicking it into his face, striking his upper lip, and the sensation for such a tap, though couldn't be considered gentle, was like taking a hammer to his jaw. "Go on, Andrew, don't be coy with me."

He remembered.

She slapped hard. He didn't want that, so he did what he didn't want to, and took here cock in his hands and brought it to his lips. That was what Isabella wanted after all. His tongue swirled, he closed his eyes as the sweetness of her precum touched his lips, and he pushed himself further down the shaft. Inch by inch, it grew, and the warmth of his saliva coated it, and when he felt the mushroom tip touch the back of his throat, his tongue pushed on it. His eyes opened with a blushing Isabella, and a sly look on her face, and she pushed her pelvis gently, easing her dick down his throat, pressing against his windpipes. Gagging, he fought for even the faintest of air, and some did relieve him of this stress, as her hand took him by the hair and pulled him to her pelvis, where some pubic hair was growing.

"Look at me," she spoke softly, like a mother would her child. Rather, the type of tone he expected to hear from Emma regarding her and Isabella's baby when it arrived. How long was she along now? "You're a natural, Andrew, your throat is so tight." The words spoken from those lips seemed like a completely different person. She curved her back towards him, and cupped both his cheeks with her hand, thumbs caressing. "You're such a--Oh, fuck! Yes. Yes. You're so good. Are you sure you aren't a girl?"

The question was inane. Of course, he wasn't, and then he immediately forwent the thought as the cock inside him pulsed. It was shoved so far downward, that his body jerked with the sudden movements of the dick, pulsating with cum as it shot into his belly. He moved forward. "Gluck. Gluck. Gluck." And she laughed at him as she pulled herself out from him, standing up, he panted, kneeling on the ground, gasping for breath as he looked up at her one more time. Sex was the last thing on his mind right at this moment, however, she took both of her hands and rubbed her cock, aiming at him as another steady stream of spunk poured out over him, covering his body. She was marking her territory...no, that wasn't this. She was branding her property. The semen was hot, dripping down every inch of his body, and when he opened his eyes, his hands resting on his belly, bloated again.

"Why don't you get cleaned up," she said, walking towards the bathroom. "I didn't eat yet, but I've got to work. When I get back, I'll get you a gift, that would be more than just a little bath. Remember, no touching Emma while I'm gone. She can't touch you either, and it would be in everyone's best interest f you track down the deed to your house."

"My--" he coughed, and cum came out before he could finish the statement, she slammed the door behind her. His hands shook as he struggled to his feet, eyes blurring with the revelation that he was looking at, in his best comparison, what looked like a pregnant belly. Unlike the previous two nights, the cum would go into his belly, and as soon as the cock was removed, he'd shit it out. Not this time. Shit. His body needed to digest it first. Or try to throw it up, but he wanted nothing to do with that. Even as sweet as her cum tasted.

He hopped in the shower, cleaned himself up. The belly remained, and it stuck there. There wasn't much he could do, except go to the bathroom, and he shat. And did he shit, yes, regular shit, and when he wiped himself cleaned and wobbled down the stairs. The kitchen was empty, and his wife, Emma, stirred around the kitchen, and looked at him. He felt her eyes glancing down at his belly, bloated, and he looked away before seeing her blush before walking right over, and touched his belly.

"You're pregnant!"

"No!" he slapped her hand away. "This is just...breakfast? Yeah, I'm going with that. This is--"

"Oh," she quipped as she turned to put on the coffee. "Yes, I hope you enjoyed your time with her last night, Andrew. I told you this would work out."

"I didn't agree to anything!" he sat down, hands wanting to rip his hair out. "What happened?" Of course, he already knew the answer. Did he have to leave the army to attend to his marital problems? "Why does she want the deed to our house?"

His wife turned to him with a smile on her face. "It's going to be great, Andrew, you'll see." She pat his bloated belly. This is going to take forever to shit out. Isabella and I are going to move together." A statement he didn't want to hear. "She needs to sell the house first."

"It's in my name!" he slammed his fists on the table, but it didn't faze her any. "Where will I be?"

"Oh, that's easy, Andrew," she smiled, as if this was perfectly normal, and it wasn't. "You'll move in with Isabella too. It will be our place, the three of us, our children--"

"You mean her children," he shook his head.

"No," she frowned. "I mean ours. You'll see."

"That isn't mine!" he pointed at her belly, still not showing any sign of pregnancy. "That's--"

"No, you're right. This one isn't yours. This is mine and Isabella's, but you and Isabella can have some children of your own. I won't be jealous. It's okay, Andrew," she reasoned with him, or tried to. What was he even hearing? "She can get you pregnant."

"What?" he squinted at the absurd offer. "That's not even anatomically possible."

She pressed her palm on his belly. "With her," she smiled. "It will be."

"What makes you think I want that!" he snapped.

"We've been talking about it for years," his wife frowned.

"With you and me," he said. "Not you and her and me and her, that's completely different."

"But you're infertile!" she snapped. "Don't think you can hide behind that obscurity forever."

"How did--how did you know?" he frowned, unable to look at her.

"I saw the tests. You never were very good at discarding that. It was in the trash," she took her hands to his. "It's a long shot, but you've seen how much she cums, you've felt it, thick as molasses, thicker even. It will make all of us happy."

"What do I have to do," he sighed.

"Get the deed," she spoke to him with a thin smile on her lips. "Then we wait until she gets home, and we'll discuss further."

"Fine," and just like that, another layer into becoming Isabella's personal property.