His Little Married Size Queen

I was dressed to the nines, and I thought I looked great. My husband, Mike, was at work, and we were to meet at the restaurant in two hours. It was our tenth wedding anniversary. I checked myself out in the mirror: showing some pretty cleavage? Check. Tight dress accentuating my derriere? Check.

I am not too humble to say I look very good for a woman in her late thirties.

As I sat on the sofa with a glass of wine, I glanced at the book on the coffee table. A book I had written, and which had been published only a few days ago. It was a book I had spent three years writing, while also teaching Women's Studies at the university.

The book's title? "Toxic Masculinity."

Which now seemed to me slightly hilarious, as you'll soon understand.

I had spent considerable time on my makeup--it was subtle but, I hoped, lovely.

Me and my sweet, devoted husband were going to have a great evening, and then some passionate sex. So what if it would last only five minutes? I love Mike so dearly, and do not resent him for his lack of game in the bedroom...and lack of other things, too.

And I am definitely trying to focus a little less on the intensity of my sexual needs.

Because the focus of my sexual needs is very much a man named David.

David is an Adonis. He is 6'3 to my 5'2. Powerful chest and shoulders and arms...oh my, those arms! He is wealthy and powerful and arrogant. Though not a particularly nice man, he is utterly magnetic. When he decided, quite casually I might add, that he was going to seduce me, it took him all of ten minutes. I mean, I didn't even like the man, partly because my husband detested him, but mostly because he hit my feminist red flag triggers.

He is also Mike's boss.

Mike had no idea whatsoever that his pretty little wife had become part of his boss's harem of married bitches. David almost exclusively only used married women, including the wives of some of his employees. The overconfident jerk got off on the power dynamic.

And I'm embarrassed to admit that I got a thrill from this also.

However, the guilt was terrible. But I couldn't break it off with him. I was addicted to his masculine arrogance....and to his ridiculously enormous penis.

Still, part of me was almost relived that he hadn't contacted me in over a month. He had relentlessly ignored my dozens of texts and secretive attempts to phone him. Evidently he had dumped me. He had even told me once, as I lay spread-eagled in my marital bed, his copious semen leaking out of my gaping pussy, my eyes and mind out of focus thanks to multiple screaming orgasms:

"When I get bored with one of my bitches, I toss them away like garbage. So remember you've always got some competition." He grinned cockily.

"Yes daddy," I replied in the sing-songy girl's voice that I only use with him. He elicits it from me, I can't help myself.

So he had ended things, which made me upset and worried and jealous, but also, in the back of my mind, relieved. Back to being a faithful wife, finally! This was definitely a good thing.

And then: someone knocked on the front door. Twice. Hard.

And somehow I knew it was him.

My heart fluttered, and I had to resist the urge to run to the door like an excited high-school girl. But I did make a quick check of my appearance in the mirror in the foyer.

I opened the door and smiled, hoping I didn't look as nervous and bashful as I felt.

"Hi David!"

"Yo," he said, stepping past me into the home I shared with Mike. The faint trace of expensive cologne was nice. Less nice was the magnetic power that immediately had me aroused. No one else could do this to me.

"I haven't seen you in quite a while," I said, nonchalantly as possible. I didn't want him to consider me too needy. Though he did certainly make me feel needy. "It's my anniversary," I said, feeling off-kilter and unsure.

He started unbuttoning his shirt. "Strip," he said.

I didn't hesitate. Genuine relief washed over me as I unzipped my dress and quickly pulled down my panties.

Gratification that he still wanted me set butterflies alight in my stomach as I reached behind my back to unclasp my bra. There was real heat to my gaze as his muscular body was exposed. He took off his shoes and socks and pants, and stood in his boxer briefs looking at me.

I squeezed my breasts together in the way I know he likes, my nipples hardening into pebbly little bullets.

"Crawl to me," he said.

I crawled across the room to him, my eyes moving up and down and up, drinking in those muscles, that handsome face with its cold gaze, that mesmerizing bulge in his underwear. The hard floor hurt my knees a little as I crawled for him. I arched my back a little in order to upthrust my pretty little ass for him.

Now before and beneath him, I moved to my knees and reached my slender hand out to caress him, but he slapped my hand down. He palmed my head like a basketball, and pulled my face into his cotton-encased crotch. Moaning lightly, I breathed in his masculine aroma, feeling dizzy with desire for this man. He was a man who took what he wanted, and who always got his way. The sheer power of him always turned me into a babbling bitch in heat.

"Take it out," he ordered me.

I peeled down his boxers, and his cock sprung out, fully erect, slapping my chin before rising majestically above me. A shaft fat and veiny, a reddened head the size of a plum, it arced out and upwards, and I was amazed once again that this appendage, the enormous cock of my husband's boss, had become the central focus of my life.

The manly odour filled my senses and I was practically panting. A pearly drop of pre-cum formed in his piss-slit. I looked up into eyes submissively and licked it off.

I licked up and down all over his thick shaft, getting it wet. I french-kissed his cockhead, lathering it with saliva. God, he's so big. No exaggeration to say he's three times the size of Mike.

David often likes to make fun of Mike while I'm mouthing his penis, or when he's pounding my cunt from behind, turning my buttocks red from authoritative slaps.

I dipped my head and nuzzled his huge testicles, inhaling the aroma like a starving woman. I bathed his sperm-laden nuts with my lips and tongue, and then could wait no longer. With my fingers clutching at his powerful thighs, I sank my mouth down over his fat cockhead with a loud slurp, the tip of his dick popped into my gullet, just as he had trained me, but still half of his throbbing meat-stalk remained outside my face.

He looked down at me expressionlessly; I stared up at him with adoration. My lips stretched obscenely wide, I nibbled at his veiny shaft and lathered around him with my tongue. Slowly, and with effort, I sucked him deeper, feeling his manhood slide further down my gullet.

I loved sensuously blowing him. The cheating wife servicing the husband's boss. When

David was in the mood for my worshipping, this could last for hours. Hours of feeding on a man's fuckstick, my jaw aching, but knowing my reward would be deposited in my mouth and on my face eventually. Other times, it was quicker....but much rougher.

Right now, he decided on the second option. Winding my hair into an unruly knot in his big fist, he started to slowly drag my face up and down his dick, then a little deeper, then deeper again. I gagged, twice, three times. I struggled to keep my teeth off him. Our gazes were locked together, a beautiful and soul-searing expression of submission and dominance.

He started moving my head faster, then held me still as he began fucking my face. I could feel a wild and untamed sensation radiating out from my pussy, into my stomach, down my legs. Oh fuck, I was actually going to orgasm without touching myself, just by being facefucked by David.

Then his cellphone rang. He unceremoniously dragged his cock out of my throat, and it made an audible pop as he removed it from my greedily sucking mouth. He retrieved the phone from his trouser pocket, put it to his face, and plunged his cock back into his whore's mouth.

"Hey, Freddy! What's up?" He gave my face a couple of short, hard, jabbing strokes.

"Gluck! Gluck! Gluck!" I said.

"Me? Oh, nothing much. Hanging with one of my girls." He grabbed his monster at the base and rubbed it all over my face. Listening to his friend, he smiled slightly at me, which made me feel happy, and pressed his dickhead against my nose. Staring up into his eyes, I sniffed it loudly.

He put it back in my mouth, and my tongue went to gratified work.

"No, I don't really have any plans," he said. he gave my mouth and throat a few more savage fuck-thrusts.

"Gack! Gack! Gack Gack! Gack!" I said, my eyes watering like crazy.

I was so close to cumming, so close that I was squirming and moaning.

David dragged it out of my face again, his cock bringing a hot, sticky mess of saliva out of me, and smacked me on my forehead. Still gripping its base, he proceeded to dick-slap my face, hard. I started to shake, making whiny little "Oh! Oh!" sounds.

"Sure!" said David. "We'll go hit the bars, sounds fun! It's been too long, man!"

He beat his bloated, heavy cock against my cheeks, my lips, my tongue, my nose. Beating my face like a drum.

"Maybe we'll find a couple of college bitches to fuck," he said. And that was it. Those words, uttered while casually cock slapping my smeared, red, panting face, brought me one of the most astounding orgasms I've ever experienced. The muscles in my thighs twitching uncontrollably, my pussy leaking onto the hardwood floor, I squealed and cried out in incredible passion and arousal.

David turned off his phone, then slid his delicious sausage back into my mouth, and snapped some photos of me staring lovingly at him with half his penis in my spit-ravaged face.

"Here it comes, bitch!" he moaned. I could feel his cock swell even bigger, if that was possible, and felt a hot jet of his cum spray right down my throat. He slowly pulled it out, spurt after spurt of his sperm filling my mouth, and then squirting the rest of his big load onto my face and in my hair.

He patted me on top of my head. "Good girl."

I smiled through the warm glaze on my face. "Thank you Daddy."

He got dressed and left without another word. I stood up shakily. It was time to go get ready for my anniversary date with my husband.