I Creampied My Wife's "Friend" Pt. 01

Content: Trans woman, BDSM, incest, cheating (consensually), cuckqueen, pregnancy, lesbian

Summary: I creampied my wife's "friend"...so why is my daughter pregnant?

This one contains more inner monologues.

------

Two months ago...

I loved my wife, Rachel. It was her personality I thought of as I took in the young, nude, masked, bound, and gagged body of her friend.

I loved my wife for introducing me to BDSM. I teased the ropes attached to each corner of the bed, and devoured the spread-eagle beauty willingly caught in them. She was young, maybe eighteen or nineteen--definitely college-aged--with small, cute breasts and blonde hair. The wavy halo over her head was a dye-job, evident by the black roots here and there, but it went so well with the angelic mask she wore that it appeared to be the onset of corruption. Like some kinky hentai game or comic. Rachel had a collection of those. I supported her purchases because we were a sex-positive house and because she had a penchant for recreating them with me.

I loved my wife for introducing me to other women. My fingers crawled down one rope until they were caressing an inner thigh. Rachel was the sort of woman who felt jealous when I was with others and the sort of woman who couldn't get enough of that feeling. It made her so upset and horny to know I had just fucked a slut, given her my cock like every stereotype about unfaithful partners, that she would attack with hate-sex when I confessed. Then she would cry, I would tell her how much I loved her, she would do the same, and then say that no matter how angry she got, she wanted me to keep straying. Rachel was...a complicated woman. If I wasn't sure this made her happy then I would have stayed a faithful woman forever.

I loved my wife for being a stay-at-home mother that encouraged my career. I spit on the smooth skin of a woman young enough to be my daughter and rubbed the saliva just around her pussy. I didn't touch it yet, even as the bound woman moaned in her gag and pushed her hips towards me. Youth, so impatient--I shook my head in disappointment as her blue eyes watched, guilty and lustful and mysterious. My wife had those eyes and so did a million others. Even my daughter Jenny had them and she was a handful at the best of times. Rebellious, goth-like, struggling to juggle partying and her degree. Nothing like the obedient and respectful young woman before me.

"Helpless slut," I said to the captured angel, and she shook in anticipation, her body rising and falling hypnotically, before nodding. Her eyes were shining. I took a hand to her chin. She leaned into it as much as she could while I rubbed her face motherly, smiling gently. "I'm not going to do anything you don't desire."

Her blue eyes were so, so trusting.

I spanked her ass. Hard.

Her gaze lit up in guilty pleasure while she flinched in pain. Most would have sought to escape it, but this captured beauty was a devil at heart. Her small butt sought my hand again, and even as I kept it out of reach, she begged me to do more with small tears streaking down. I could not see her cheeks though I was sure they were blushing red. I knew that from how she responded to what I said: "I've been feeling...frustrated at work, and my wife nominated you. She says you love being a receptacle for older men and women. Taking their anger like a good slut. Not like the other girls who only cause problems for the generation that works hard in this country."

The bound woman, so submissive and sorry unlike my daughter, simply nodded in a shameful confession. She didn't admit to finding that hot as well--because of the gag in the mouth or further embarrassment, I don't know or care--yet it was telling that a drop had begun streaking down her inner thighs. Her pussy was well-shaved though virginal. My wife had sworn up and down that her friend had been saving it for a special occasion. I didn't know why this had qualified, and from the angry and aroused look in Rachel's eyes then, I would never unless I found out myself.

I was usually good at that. I worked in a corporation. As an executive in fact, one with an impressive record of successes in different companies, even though I had never been hired when things were going smoothly. The C-Suite had the bad habit of bringing on women and other 'diverse' folks only when things were going bad, and as a trans woman, my greatest job opportunities occurred when a company was entering risky terrority. It made me angry then. It still does and I took out my anger in another spank. It wasn't my current frustration to be clear. The sound the masked beauty made was nonetheless a balm on old wounds.

Then I spanked her again. And again. The smacks this time, however, were because of my new issues. I doubt you care much about corporate businesses, or their internal bureaucracies, though. All you need to know was that it ruined my day. And that I was determined to claw back some joy in this encounter my wife had arranged.

See--I caressed the young woman's redness with a gentleness unseen this past half-minute, while my other hand brushed her chin as thick tears fell--my wife had a network of friends. Some were wholesome, running flower bouquets or tattoo shops, while others...were more kinky. I was familiar with many of the latter. Rachel hated and loved and got off on her friends fucking me. Again, my wife was a complicated woman, for if what I had put together was true, then she...had a genuine fear of me cheating. Not a Holmes-level mystery, I know. She had nightmares, tough ones, and somehow, she loved those horrible fantasies--loved them enough, to partake them in real life. Sometimes I felt guilty for it. But all the therapy sessions had merely confirmed she wanted this.

She wanted to be a jealous, stay-at-home mother who got cheated on by her powerful spouse. She wanted to be broken-down, made to accept her spouse's straying lust, and help them in their endeavors like a coping 1950's wife.

This was us.

I spanked her unknown friend. She was crying and shaking and moaning in her gag.

I suppose you could call it a one-sided open-relationship or my wife a cuckqueen. Rachel liked to call it cheating with consent.

I certainly had the consent of a young woman to grope and spank her while bound and gagged, then use her raw.

I didn't even know who she was. Does that surprise you? Or make you concerned? I merely see it as a measure of trust in my wife. I trusted her to pick people who didn't have STDs and wanted what I wanted. She trusted me to not unmask her friends, on those rare occasions where one wanted sex and anonymity. It certainly added a little mystery to our get-togethers, when I wondered who among her friends present secretly knew the shape of my cock and the taste of my cum. My wife held back sharing the truth, for obvious reasons--it brought her no small amount of embarrassment and lust to do so. Sometimes I could guess with great accuracy. Some body parts were simply too distinctive when paired with what I knew of her slutty friends.

Though this young woman, who moaned so sharply when I pinched her nipples suddenly, was unfamiliar at first glance. Her youth, dyed hair, and penchant for pain and submissiveness didn't fit anyone I knew. My wife's friends were usually about the same age as us. Thirty-seven. We had Jenny young, as you can imagine, and it was increasingly hard to relate with the younger generation. We had to grow up quite fast. I did not believe myself to be arrogant when I said we made good parents.

If only my daughter agreed.

I pinched the bound woman's clit with just the right amount of roughness. I usually didn't sleep with women so young. It felt a little like cradle robbing, though with my rebellious daughter acting out and neglecting her GPA, I certainly had been feeling...a need to put the youth in their place. This angelic woman was perfect. She was how Jenny should be. Pliant, obedient in important things, yet with some initiative that best suited the both of us. Here, it was air humping me. I caressed her stomach, enjoying the flatness and playing above her navel, before I finally moved myself in front of her pussy. She was so wet.

I got on the bed.

My hard cock rested on her inner thigh, and she gasped into her gag when I rubbed it down her streak of arousal. The tension between us was an inferno, and part of me felt it should have been affecting the very room itself, turning the dimly-lit candles into a flame as bright as the sun. "I don't know who you are," I said slowly, "and you better keep it that way. Because if I find out...I'll tell your parents what a good, obedient, and filthy girl they've raised." I wouldn't of course. My cock let out a drop of pre-cum at the thought nonetheless. It fell onto her inner thigh, merely inches away from her burning desire, and the angelic woman moaned like a sinner at the sensation and words.

I was also sinful in my lust.

With a sudden thrust, two of my six inches found themselves inside her. I groaned at the way she seemed to melt around the head of my cock--it was like she was made for me. Her pussy wanted me. Her guilt seemed to triple while her lust matched my own as we made eye-contact. I could feel myself brushing against a thin flap of skin, feel the drop of pre-cum slip from my tip and onto her hymen. I groaned again. I hadn't felt this good in any other woman besides my wife.

And I hadn't even fucked her properly yet.

With tenderness in my voice, I said: "Are you ready for more?" What I was really asking was: are you still willing to lose your virginity to me? By God, I wanted her to. She was half my age and so fucking sexy, it was making me insane. I added some persuasion to the mix. I leaned down and brushed her nipples with my lips. Another drop of pre-cum pooled into her. I lightly bit her.

She had so much to learn about the wonders of sex.

Was this why my daughter partied? To learn how to fuck from older people like me?

The sudden thoughts of Jenny came at a particularly bad time, because the woman underneath me chose that moment to lose her virginity.

...Have you ever felt an unmistakable feeling of belonging? A place, any place, where you can enter and know you should be there. Somewhere where you can be yourself. Somewhere that you know would make you happy.

When I thought of my family, I felt that in my heart.

Right now I was feeling that with my dick.

My teeth kissed the unknown woman's neck in comfort and restrained arousal, while my hips touched hers as I pushed deeper. When my cock couldn't go any further in, I lifted up her ass like it was nothing, making her pale thighs strain against the ropes while the young woman all but begged me to give it to her hard. Her blue eyes had not broken eye-contact. They were wide and misty and so fucking tempting that I wanted her to break from the pleasure I was about to give her. She was the sort of woman that reminded you, that yes, people had the capacity to go on raids and pillage and abductions. The sort of woman who could be enslaved and raped, and accept her place with an empty gaze and a guilty pleasure burning between her thighs.

She was bringing out the worst in me. Luckily for her, the rough and depraved side of me was an excellent fucker.

"You were born to be my slave." I thrusted hard. "My slut." I slapped her ass. "My whore." I wrapped a hand around her throat, just underneath her angelic mask. It would take just a flick of the wrist up to knock it askew...but that would be violating her trust. "A toy for strong women to use as we will." Her breaths came in choked moans, her eyes flickering between my unmasked face, my small breasts, and the animalistic passion between our legs. They seemed to be so disbelieving and rapturous, like my fucking was a reward for some leap of faith, that I could only conclude that this young woman has been truly repressed. An injustice indeed. Didn't her parents know that only leads to daughters acting out?

Unbidden, Jenny was once more at the forefront of my mine.

My hand squeezed hard. Then I let up, hearing desperate and aroused noises, while the instinctual...revulsion--yes, let's call it that--passed by me.

It left me feeling mean. "Let me tell you your fate," I said without giving her a chance to recover. I watched her emotions, just in case, and was reassured by her hard nipples and steady exhalations. Her pussy was getting wetter as well, which let it take my faster thrusts. "Ruined." I pinched her breasts. My wife had given me much practice in degrading women. "Disgraced." The unknown woman moaned suddenly, pushing me into her with her limited humps. "And you know why."

It wasn't a question.

I leaned in to whisper in her ears. "This is your awakening."

I could imagine all the depraved things she would do now, tossed head-first into the world of depravity by my cock and her bondage. My first time had changed my outlook completely. And she was young, and so full of energy to explore what she wanted. Repressed women always were.

I knew that well.

"Enjoy it," I said huskily. Then I slapped her ass.

Rachel, myself, the numerous women seduced into our bed--there was something so tempting about the forbidden fruit. The more it was denied or hidden, the more alluring it became when the opportunity presented itself.

I had been a young and dumb college firstie. Horny for sex but never able to indulge. Even then, I had known something was different about me, and a desire to keep it hidden had made me ignore the flirtations other girls gave. The handful that were interested had assumed me to be dense and moved on--but not my now-wife. She had figured out I wanted to fuck her. And that I wouldn't if I couldn't be myself.

I hadn't even confronted what being myself was then. It was a looming and mysterious puzzle made difficult by my lack of knowledge and context. And a certain cowardness--though, to Rachel's eyes, I had been a kind and tortured soul. She had dug into me like I was catnip, and forced a confrontation.

It could have gone badly. It should have.

Rachel showed how attractive she found the true me. Kept showing it, in fact.

And nine months later, Jenny was born.

Again, my daughter. Even as the young and bound woman underneath spasmed--like my words had woken her up to hedonistic pleasures she could indulge in, like she realized she had the power to use her body like all the porn stars and liberated women in the world, like she had treated ropes as a peak when it was a minor dip into the vast ocean of sex--I couldn't get Jenny out of my head. She wasn't who I wanted to think about as I pounded a petite body into the bed.

I absolutely shouldn't be thinking of the similarities between her and this slut.

I sought to focus on the young woman. Her small breasts and red flush down to her collarbone were so cute and fetching. So were her struggles, as unbecoming from a captive angel at my mercy, she had sought nothing but a greater ravishment. Oh, if only I could see the lust behind her mask--at least, I was sure she thought the hungry expression I gave was sexy. My smile was wicked. My black hair framed my face, long enough to dip down mid-back, and I knew it gave an absolutely seductive look with my bangs.

In the end, it didn't take much for her to cum. The scenario and words and foreplay had done most of the work, and a good enough pounding was all that she needed to go over the edge. Of course, I had done better.

As her pussy clenched around my cock, its squeezing inexperienced and yet showing a promising talent, the woman underneath me orgasmed. Her arms and legs thrashed in their bounds, her gag muffled her moans, and so it was only the windows to the soul that let me see her full emotions: so much human lust, guilt, thrill, and all under a blue backdrop.

She was so fucking alluring. She had experienced her first orgasm from a dick with me.

"I want to cum in you," I said, the words slipping from my mouth in a mature and sensual voice. I hadn't stopped thrusting. I had kept my rhythm through her orgasm and now I aligned it with her peaks and drops. I went slow and hard when she slowed down. And I went hard and fast when she experienced aftershocks. My dick was hard, very hard, and it was throbbing in an imminent release.

A creampie hadn't been on either of our limits. My wife had assured me. Her blue eyes had been angry and lustful at the thought of my cum in other women, though this time, they had been even more intense. They were a promise of even crazier sex, so though I was deflowering a virgin now, I couldn't help but look forward to the heated passion later.

Rachel liked to taste what the clean-up had missed on my cock. It made her deliciously envious. Her anger-bursts were something else, and I hoped this time her mouth switched between blowing me and asking if her cock-sucking was better. I always said no during these sessions, driving her into a frenzy, though afterwards, I would admit that I loved her body more.

The bound woman drew my attention away from the wife who had arranged our kinky sex with a simple trick: she pushed her hips into mine. Her blue eyes were an enthusiastic yes beset with risk and delightful shame.

So I did it.

My hand suddenly choked her, I said with a smile and moan: "Helpless slut" because the rope making her accept my seed wasn't truly physical, and then she felt my spurts flood her in waves.

...As per the scenario, I wiped my soft cock on her inner thigh, then dressed up in my corporate suit while she was left bound with cum leaking out.

I should have left without another word, but I couldn't stop myself. Something in the young woman's body language...it made me want to reassure her. "You were wonderful." Her blue eyes blinked rapidly, no longer lost in whatever thoughts she was having. "And whatever you're dealing with to make you feel so guilty, I want you to know: your body is your own. No matter what anyone else says, if you want to enjoy sex, you can." I leaned over her, ignoring her thighs, her creampied pussy, her red ass, her bare breasts, her angel mask, and left a kiss on her dyed-black hair.

Her gaze was shiny and affectionate.

------

Present...

"...What do you mean you're pregnant!?"