Leveling Up Ch. 38-48

Leveling Up

My Wife's Infernal Sodomy Adventure

38. Starter Home

"It's not fair and you know it," I complain as I struggle to correctly affix the expensive tie around my neck. My lips pinch, head shakes, and I sigh heavily. "You've fucked three other men so far. The time is mine now. It's practically my right at this point. I want to get laid. With another woman."

Wendy stares at the bedroom mirror as she applies makeup to her face. My wife swallows, glances around uneasily, and finally sighs. "You're right," she relents. "You have my permission. Just remember, you're stillmy husband."

39. Luxury Black Car Service

It's mid-morning, overcast, and cool and I stand on the concrete curb of our humble small house wearing proudly a gray and blue plaid two-button Canali jacket, wool, and matching trousers, over a silk dress shirt, white pocket square, and blue tie. My beautiful wife at my side wears a black and white checkered Ferragamo dress, black heels, and dark stockings.

A black SUV rolls up, idles, engine chugs, clicks, and the middle passenger door mechanically slides open as the door shifts out slightly and backwards. Judy wearing a teal blouse, her fat tits hanging out, and a black miniskirt, showing off her own stockinged legs and heels, pops her head out. "Wow, you two look hot," she compliments. "C'mon, let's go."

As we climb inside, I notice a huge diamond ring on Judy's left hand ring finger. I relax back in the far back black leather seat while my wife and Judy sit in the mid-row seats across from each other. The door clicks shut and the driver putters forward.

"You know, my dream growing up was to be a famous actress," Judy explains, nods rapidly, and clutches her hands together. "These sorts of parties. I always like to imagine they'll lead to my golden opportunity." As she leans forward, the crest of her large breasts hang out the top of her low-cut teal blouse

My mouth moistens, eyes stare, and I smile. "Hey Judy!" I interrupt from the back seat.

Judy turns, faces me, leans over, and her big boobs continue to hang out of her teal blouse. "Yes?" she asks.

"Where's your husband?" I ask, fiddle with my wedding ring, and grin knowingly at her.

She shrugs her shoulders, raises her hands up in the air, and responds, "He's on dad duty right now. Besides, Fridays are when he has his photography lessons."

40. Central City McMansion

The black and white gate creeks open as the SUV engine putters. The gear shifts forward and the engine revs and we begin riding up a long winding driveway toward a lushly landscaped grassy hill. On top is an opulent, super-sized McMansion. There are cars parked to the side of the open road path as we climb further and further up. As the front lawn comes into view I see numerous people gathered around. There is a film crew there. As I peer out my window I can't help but draw my gaze to them. The huge fake boobs hanging out of that older woman's low cut dress. She stands there perfectly still as some girl who looks barely older than one of my students carefully applies makeup to her attractive but mature face. "Who's that?" I ask.

"See I told you there'd be celebrities," Judy brags to my wife before turning to me. "You don't recognize her? Daphne Daniels. One of the True Housewives of Central City."

"The what?" I ask, moisten my mouth, stare at her fat fake tits, nod and smile.

"It's a reality show," Judy says, sighs, and rolls her eyes at me.

41. Central City McMansion - Backyard Gathering

The sun shines bright over an azure sky, casting a warm glow over the sprawling backyard. Laughter and chatter sounds alongside children squealing and splashing in large nearby pool. There are well dressed affluent guests all over the place and a few of the heavier-set men I recognize. Professional athletes playing for the NFL. The Sharks football team.

As the bow tied, white shirted cocktail server passes by, I grab a glass, lift it to my lips, and sip sweet strawberry liqueur. I stare at her fat tits with alert eyes as my jaw sets, head nods, and my brow furrows. Finally, today is my day to get laid. I couldn't think of a more fitting revenge. Justice for the debauched night of BDSM those assholes subjected my wife to. This time I'll be the one dumping my own nasty load straight into Judy's warm, married pussy. I stare at her and smirk.

My chest puffs out and I saunter over towards Judy with a knowing grin on my face. "Thanks for inviting us!" I yell at her over the noise of the party, wink and lean in. "I didn't expect I'd be at the same party as guys playing for the Sharks! At such a large mansion! You and I should go tour it! A house like this." I whistle loudly. "I bet it has so many bedrooms!" I touch her left shoulder with my right hand and twinkle my eyes.

Her left hand grabs my right, removes it from her shoulder, releases, she looks down at the huge diamond on her ring and fiddles with it with her right hand. "And hang out with some broke school teacher?" she asks. "No thanks," she giggles, lifts her chin up, and smirks.

My ribs squeeze together and I feel cold sweat before my nostrils flare, mouth falsely smiles, and I draw in slow and steady breaths. "I've taught a lot of students over the years," I remark. "Some brilliant, others who were total dipshits! Even though I've not been teaching for very long, my remarkable talent has given me some genuine wisdom! It's like a sixth sense. You and I both know you didn't become District Manager because you're smart or did well in school. You're dumber than a box of rocks! The reason that your husband isn't around. You know, when you're snorting cocaine with some millionaire executive in a construction yard. It's the same that he isn't here now. He doesn't respect you! That's why he ignores you!"

Judy goes still, opens her mouth but says nothing, slackens her face, and blinks slowly.

I shrug and walk away towards the back door entrance into the mansion.

42. Central City McMansion - Lavish Living Room

"Here, have more wine," offers a man in his early thirties, sporting a brown pompadour haircut, speaking with a slightly lispy voice, and dressed in a checkered green and black suit jacket that looks like something only a gameshow host would wear, and an open white dress shirt which reveals some of his tattooed torso. The Chardonnay gurgles into the glass before he twists the plastic knob closing the bottle.

Daphne Daniels stares down at her smartphone as she swipes through Instagram. "How am I losing followers?" she asks in a slurred voice, sighs and shakes her head. She lifts the glass to her lips and sips from it. "The ratings have been shit. Why aren't you marketing the show more? What happened to the great producer? The king of reality TV? Sammy 'The Showman' Shasta?"

Sammy leans back, crosses his arms across his chest, and bobs his Adam's apple.. "You know the reason why," he snaps. "We're competing against streaming now. The whole industry is a mess. I'm trying to get the next season on Peacock."

"Peacock!?" Daphne shouts, flares her nostrils, and shakes her head back and forth rapidly. "Who the fuck subscribes to that? Why aren't you talking to Netflix or HBO?"

Sammy blows out a noisy breath and wags his finger at her. "Don't blame me for this," he objects with a snarl. "The show's become stale and boring. The drama. It just isn't there. Not how it was. You want this dying corpse to keep going? Well breath some fucking life into it then!" He holds his hands up, shakes his head, and walks away.

Daphne sighs and looks down on her phone only to peer up when she hears a commotion as a large group of cocktail waiters and waitresses surround me as I enter the room.

"Mr. T, I can't believe it's you!" my former student Nathan, wearing a red bow tie, white shirt, and black pants, celebrates. "You look so fancy. It doesn't surprise me at all. Such a legendary teacher like you. Of course you'd get invited to a party like this!" Nathan turns to a female dressed the same as him. "This is the teacher I told you about. His class was so amazing!"

The girl grins at me, sparkles her eyes, and fawns, "Three of my friends were in your class last year. Sarah, Melissa, and Samira. They all said you were the best teacher they've ever had."

Nathan, far from the brightest pupil I've tutored, nonetheless had always worked hard in my class, acted conscientiously, and sought clarification when he was confused. He had earned an A in my class not because of his intellectual talent or some extraordinary striving but because he genuinely tried to do his best. Students like him are rare and why I love to teach.

"Great to see you again, Nathan," I respond, extend my right hand while my left grips my drink, and shake his hand. As I do so my eyes catch her glance. Daphne Daniels. She's staring straight at me. I puff my chest out, adopt a playful grin, gleam my eyes at her, and wink.

She returns my smile.

"I've got to take care of something," I explain to my small audience of servers before looking directly at Nathan. "But later today keep an eye out for me. I'd like to talk. See how things have been going with you since you graduated."

Nathan leans towards me, grins, and nods his head slightly. "It'd be a privilege, sir," he compliments.

I swagger over as my eyes glue to her fat, middle-aged, fake and huge tits hanging out of her floral print dress. She's got twenty years on me at least. But with all that makeup, plastic surgery, fake boobs, etc. My cock throbs in my pants. I've never done it before. Fucked a MILF.

"Looks like you're quite the popular guy," Daphne says as she nods her head to the side.

I turn around and see Nathan and the small group of cocktail servers still staring at me. My head swivels and adopts a knowing grin.

"I am a reality TV star," she explains. "Yet everyone seems much more excited to see you than I. Enlighten me."

I shrug my shoulders. "I'm a local legend in Central City," I explain. "The greatest high school teacher to have ever instructed his history class. My former students. They're everywhere. I know who you are. But only because someone else at this party told me today. Otherwise, you'd be a nobody to me. I haven't had it in years. Cable TV. People stream these days. Especially young people like you have working here. Honestly, my opinion of reality TV is that it's garbage anyways. If people want to consume shit content, might as well just watch TikTok."

She frowns, fidgets on the leather armchair she sits, raises her glass to her lips while her hand slightly shakes, and sips. "You're a teacher though, aren't you...?" she asks and slurs her words.

"Poor?" I ask, chuckle, and grin knowingly at her. "I'm here at this party, aren't I? Wearing a $15,000 suit. Drinking for free. Surrounded by fans." The glass touches my lips and I drink more sweet strawberry liqueur. "Who cares about money when you're popular, hot and constantly leveling up?"

Her glossy eyes explore my bulging muscles, mouth smiles and salivates, and she leans towards me.

I nod, run my hand through my hair, and offer. "You want to give me a tour of the house? It's very big. I don't think I've been in a place as giant as this. There are probably a lot of bedrooms..."

Her lips press together into a slight grimace, nose wrinkles, and she swallows. She looks down at her Instagram page on her smartphone. Finally, she acquiesces, "Ok, let's go."

43. Central City McMansion - Luxurious Bedroom

Before me is one hell of a bed. Like something fit for a princess. It's got big brass bars running vertical on the head and tail boards, including one above that wraps around the entire bed with a semi-transparent white curtain. The bed itself is fluffy with sheets, comforter, and throws white with golden highlights. "Fuck, what a bed," I praise, remove my jacket, dress shoes, and climb up on to it through the curtain. "It's so soft up here. C'mon, you've got to feel it."

"Theodore!" she exclaims. Having an older woman call me by my first name like that. It makes me shiver. "You don't think I know what you're up to, do you? You're not calling me up there just to feel how soft it is." Her body is partially concealed by the semi-transparent white bed curtain.

I chuckle and respond, "Didn't take you as some sort of prude. I mean, I see how you are dressed and the camera crew out on the lawn. You're on TV showing off your tits to thousands of people. Why should it matter I do with my hands what everyone else is doing with their eyeballs?"

"Is this you?" she asks as her feminine hand adorned with long painted pink nails slides through the curtain holding a cellphone.

I squint and recognize the photograph of myself. Posing hot and sexy as usual. Should probably replace it now that I've put on all this muscle. She is looking at my Facebook page. "Yeah, what can I say?" I respond, puff out my chest, and grin knowingly. "I'm a pretty popular guy."

She pulls the phone back and swipes with her fingers. "Yeah, and all your friends are teenagers," she replies. "The new generation not watching my show."

I shrug my shoulders. "I told you, I'm a legendary high school teacher," I remind her. "It comes with the territory. You saw the way those girls were looking at me back there in the living room. No point in wasting anymore of my time. Not when I've got such a robust menu to select from. I was hungry for something a little more sophisticated and mature." The reality is I love sleazy women and she's right up my alley. "You know, to fit my refined palette. But if what I want isn't available. Well, a man's still got to eat, right?"

She hesitates and then fidgets with her dress. The floral gown drops to the floor with a swoosh. Her fingers fiddle behind her and her bra falls. My eyes soak in the luscious sight of her huge fake breasts, hanging and jiggling, obscured through the semi-transparent white bed curtain. My mouth waters, hands moisten, body shivers, and cock throbs inside my expensive trousers.

Her right hand slides back through the curtain, grabs my left, pulls it out and places it on her right breast. It feels warm against my wet hand. I cup it and its heavy. Squeezing it is different from my wife's natural... err, I guess now demonic enhanced but still realistic feeling breasts. As I squeeze and fondle her hard nipple, a relaxed smile crosses my face. It's so great to touch a woman's big boobs. Real or fake. I'll play with any set of tits available. She moans softly and rotates her pronounced hips as the white curtain continues to partially obscure her nearly nude body.

Her painted nails clutch the white curtain and slowly pull it open revealing to my laser focused eyes her fake, big jiggling tits. God the veins on them. My wet hands grab them and squeeze. "Fuck yessss...." I praise before releasing a throaty moan.

She pushes my body down against the soft bed, closes the white curtain, and smiles. "God, you're hot," she compliments, waters her mouth and shoves her right hand down inside of my trousers. She fishes out my long, thick, recently grown cock. "Wow," she says, nods her head, and licks her lips. "Handsome, popular, and hung like a pornstar." She removes her panties and reveals her soaking wet, hairy and mature pussy.

Daphne mounts me, slides my cock into her MILF vagina, and causes my body to shiver and my mouth to gasp. Her pussy reminds me of my wife's. Loose, wet, and throbbing. Only difference is that Wendy shaves.

Her fake fake tits flop around as the older woman's body begins sliding up and down my fat vibrating cock. I moan, stare at her breasts, part my lips, and purr at her.

"God your cock gets hard," she comments before releasing a gasp of her own. The bed rattles and mattress springs squeak as she rides my big penis It smells like sweat, musk, and her fragrant cardamom perfume.

I close my eyes, part my lips, gasp, and buck my hips as I slam my fat cock in and out of swollen soaked pussy. My eyes hone on her dangling jiggly fake tits and I grab at them and squeeze her mature nipples. I catch in the corner of my eye her swipe on her smartphone with her hands. Is she seriously that addicted to Instagram she can't wait until after we're done fucking?

Her pelvis thrusts against mine, titties jiggle, and the two of us moan and gasp together. I feel my body start to vibrate, tingle, and I feel waves of hot and cold wash over me. "Should I... pull out?" I ask in-between pants.

"I went through it," she says before moaning as she continues to ride on top of my hard dick. "Menopause. Don't worry about it."

God, she wants me to cream inside her pussy. Just like Thalsyn, Remy, and Brad did to my wife. I think about Wendy and my ribs squeeze and body shivers. I grab Daphne's sides and slam into her before my mouth drops open, eyes close, and a huge gasp releases. My cock explodes inside her warm mature pussy jetting fat load after load of my creamy goodness inside of the sleazy older reality TV star infertile body. As I pull out I see smeared cum on her sweaty wet pubic hair.

The curtain swings open and Sammy Shasta is there holding a microphone with a film crew behind him. "Everyone watching on X, Daphne Daniels of the True Housewives of Central City has just been caught live in the act of having an affair with a much younger, sexier man," Sammy's lispy voice announces into the microphone. "No denying she done did the dirty deed. There's even the semen stains to prove it!" He chuckles as the camera focuses in on her jizzed on pussy.

Daphne screams and covers her tits and genitals with her hands.

44. Central City McMansion - Lavish Living Room

Wendy peers around the room looking for me. When she sees nothing, she frowns, sighs, and bites down on her lower lip.

I walk into the room and journalists, photographers, and others rush me. The room fills with the sounds of cameras snapping photographs and several people trying to question me over each other all at once. I blink.

"Is it true you had sex with Daphne Daniels?" one journalist demands while holding a microphone to my face.

I smirk, shrug my shoulders, and respond, "Maybe I did. If so, so what?"

My wife glowers at me, surrounded by cameras, journalists, and paparazzi. Her eyes tighten, mouth thins, face reddens, and she swallows. "Fuck this," she mutters and retreats further into the huge house. She resents me. Can't stand that even in this party she secured the invite to, that I get more attention than her. I don't understand. How to deal with her jealousy.

"How do you plan to address Troy Daniels?" the journalist asks me.

"Who?" I ask, puff out my chest, and grin knowingly. I stand for a second before a shiver spreads over me, my neck hair prickles, and my skin goes white. "T-troy Daniels," I mutter. "Offensive linemen for the Sharks?"

The journalist smirks, nods his head, shoves the microphone in my face, and confirms, "Yes, he is married to Daphne Daniels. You knew that, right?"

45. Central City McMansion - Memorabilia Museum

Wendy wanders into a room filled with glass display cases. She inspects. They contain tickets, trophies, trading cards, and numerous other memorabilia pertaining to the Sharks and star quarterback Buck Johnson. She looks up at the wall. It's covered with them. Laminated news articles highlighting Johnson's amazing football career, cameos in Hollywood movies, commercials, and multiple Super Bowl wins.

The sound of ice scraping against glass sounds behind her and causes her to twirl around. Her jaw drops and eyes bulge when she sees him. The man himself. Buck Johnson, dressed in a black polo shirt and blue jeans, his million dollar right bicep bulges as his hand clutches a short glass full of scotch whiskey. "Y-you're him," my wife says. "The Central City Rocket."