My Wife and the Worm-holes

We didn't know it at the time, but the early years of the 21st Century brought a change that would come to define all of our lives: wormhole technology.

The first units were massive. Warehouse-sized devices, driven by an entire power plant and requiring a team of dozens to operate, huge and unwieldy and full of the promise of humanity no longer being bound by space. The next two decades saw a reduction in size tenfold, a hundredfold, ten-thousandfold, until the wormhole devices could fit in a small ring around the event horizon. Stability was improved to as-good-as-permanent connection. After public disclosure, humanity could safely travel almost anywhere in the blink of an eye using a local public Doorway. Even medicine was revolutionised as wormhole exploration of the body allowed unforeseen investigation and diagnosis. In many ways it was a golden age.

Unless you happen to have bought a classic shipping company at exactly the wrong time.

What do you do when you're haemorrhaging money in a new utopia? Just don't worry about it, it's fine right? Denial saw us through the first couple of years.

"So, I think we might be in trouble."

I could see the worry on my wife's face deepen. If we're talking about it, it's real, and if it's real, we're in deep shit. The fact we've been bleeding money constantly for years while I tried to pivot the company to wormhole shipping hasn't passed her by. Her job managing the company accounts meant she knew just how deep we were in, but giving the problem a voice gave it a reality of its own.

But I've said the words. There. Seal broken. "Even selling the company is going to leave us in debt." It became easier as I went on. "I'm going to need a new job. You're going to need a new job. I'd say we should sell the house, but we bought somewhere convenient for travel. We've lost most of the value, and the market is so bad that would just be one more loss to eat."

My wife thought for a moment. "OK, new jobs. Might take a few weeks, but we'll work something out though, right? We're well educated, you built that company from a small local player to, OK fine, a less small player, and I learned a lot managing the accounts. You'll see, we'll be fine". My wife, positive as always. A shaky smile lit up her face, and I pulled her close.

"Yeah, we'll be fine." Our embrace tightened. Comforted for now, we could only pray for a lucky break.

* * * * * * * *

It had been four months since we sold the company. Four months of both of us trudging to the Doorway, interviewing, hearing back in four weeks, six weeks at the most sir, the jobs are in such high demand but we'll be sure to let you know sir. Karen slipped down next to me on the couch, nuzzling in beside me; she had fared no better. I let my eyes roam over her, and felt thankful that at least I have her.

Just over five feet tall and willow slender, rosebud lips and dark eyes even more stunning in her milk-white face, she takes my breath away normally - but the most positive aspect of job hunting was seeing her in business wear every day. The way her pencil skirt hugged the curve of her hips, the sheen of her stockings highlighting her legs, the soft feel of her blouse against my hand, all conspired to leave me barely coherent. I realised she was looking at me in the same way. Our eyes met. The home wormhole manager chimed as our groceries arrive in the pantry. We were hungry for something else.

Our lips met as I slid my hand along her thigh. Our tongues twirled together as my hand edged further, to her stocking tops, past them, to the softness of her thigh. Her hand slid over my chest for a moment, then up to my collar. I kissed my way along the corner of her mouth, to her jaw, her collarbone. She leant back, pulling me forward by the collar, and I knew exactly what she wanted. My mouth moved down further, my hands opening the buttons of her blouse. I kissed down the swell of her breast, but didn't stop. Further down her stomach, over her skirt, and finally placed a kiss on her inner thigh as I unzipped the side of her skirt. I started to slowly kiss up through the inside of her thighs as her now loosened skirt gave way. Her hands found my hair and she leaned back further, and spread her legs. As my face was pulled forward, I could see the beginnings of wetness through her lacy black panties. She always likes to feel sexy, no matter if intimacy was on the cards.

She pulled me until I could feel the heat radiating from her pussy. As I moved closer, I pulled her panties to the side and kissed the smooth skin around her lips, hearing her gasp in pleasure. She moved her hips against me and I slowly licked and kissed higher, until I planted a light kiss directly onto her clit. I could feel her jerk beneath me. Her hands tightened in my hair, but she knew she would enjoy it more if she didn't force me yet. I ran my tongue down through her slit, tasting her, pushing deep, before running it back to her clit and beginning to lick and kiss in earnest.

"Oh, fuck yes", she soon muttered, as I continued to focus on her clit, and I knew she was getting close. Her breathing came faster, and I kept licking kissing, sucking, diving down to catch some of her dripping wetness every few seconds. Soon, her legs closed on my head, and I knew not to stop - eventually she came down from the peak and released me. I wiped my mouth and moved up to kiss her satisfied smile. I pulled out my hard cock, hoping for a brief moment she might return the favour. Instead, she spread her legs wide, and I slid inside. She was so wet; she moaned so sexily; I felt her legs on my back. I tried to fight it, but within minutes I was pumping rope after rope of cum deep inside her.

I had had a few partners before Karen, but I was her first. In some ways I was glad she didn't have more to compare me to. We were deeply in love, and neither of us could doubt that, but at average length and girth, and sub-average staying power, I'd always felt a little self-conscious that she might want more. In some ways I wanted her to experience that. But, as usual, she didn't seem to see anything wrong. She just held me close, sighing in satisfaction. She patted my chest, pushed me up and we set about making dinner. Another night a little better at home.

* * * * * * * *

Seven months in, I finally got a job. A job that didn't quite cover our most basic needs, but would help to stem the constant outward flow of money. Remote work, long hours, co-ordinating logistics and inventory management at boring factory in boring industry. As much time staring at nothing as working. But it paid something.

I was able to work from our home office. In some ways, it was nice - though I was stuck in my office most of the day, I could use our internal home camera and mic to see my wife coming and going, trying to relax after another hard day of no luck searching for work. But more than that, it was so incredibly boring. Naturally, after a couple of weeks, I would spend part of the day sneaking in some porn.

Porn was one of the industries which had fully embraced the new, compact wormholes, with an increasingly deep series of new fetishes spawning from their use, both amateur and professional. Naturally, the first thing most men did was suck their own cocks. Every time I saw it, I knew I would have absolutely tried it if I'd had the disposable income to buy one when they hit the market. I understand it's more like sucking than being sucked, but hey, I still would. Especially since, despite a good sex life in every other way, that wasn't on the cards with Karen, though she had never said why.

The list of wormhole fetishes continues though: men fucking themselves (Would I have done that too? No comment); women eating themselves out; men and women going about their day fucking or getting fucked remotely through a discreet wormhole in their underwear; sex positions that would have been impossible before (look up "two girls, twenty-three cocks" if you're mentally prepared); fucking from the inside out, with spectacular eruptive cumshots.

The ads changed too - no more horny singles in my area. Instead, they were horny and wearing a wormhole. For exorbitant rates, you could fuck anyone, anywhere, who was connected to the "wormwhore" (no, not entomophilia) network directly, men and women alike, using your own personal cock-sized wormhole. Or you could join the Gloryhole network and have cocks simply turn up, ready for whatever you wanted.

All in all, there was more than enough fuel for my fantasies. I had hoped the increased frequency of jerking off to more and more perverse media would mean more staying power with my wife, but even being partially drained was no match for her formidable allure. Every night was the same, a few minutes of (admittedly fantastic) pleasure after making sure she came on my tongue.

At first my browsing brought some level of shame, but over time it became more and more casual. Clearing the history was pointless when I'd only fill it up again, right? Right. Idiot. Yes.

* * * * * * * *

Twelve months. A full year. We were down to almost nothing, and my wife had basically given up on finding a job, as I had given up hope of finding one with better pay. One night after a long shift in work, she came into the office looking a little nervous.

"We're down to the last month. This is it. If we don't get some extra money this month, we'll lose the house. We don't have money to get another, and we don't have anything for a rent deposit. As it is we can barely afford to eat."

She finished and looked down. I know I've failed her. She kept looking down as she continued. "We don't qualify for welfare either because of the assets in this stupid house we can't sell, and I've looked at every option. You've looked at every option. And... I know what you look at on the computer."

My blood turned to ice and her voice became distant in my ears.

"At first I was furious - I thought I was enough for you. And then I saw what exactly you watch, and then I understood why I'd been getting the same ads about wormwhores. So many ads, all the time, every site I visit. Well, almost the same ads as yours."

I felt like the ads were an unusual thing to focus on here. She continued. "It took me a while to calm down. You need a release. I understand."

No, she doesn't, something is wrong.

"I understood better when I watched some of it. And when I saw the costs for joining wormwhores, I mean wow. At first, I thought you were using it, that you were fucking someone else. But I realised that was way out of our price range."

My heartbeat slowed to a dull whine.

"But then the ads started on my phone. Ads to BE a wormwhore. 'Earn so much per hour you'll never work again'. I dismissed it. Ridiculous right, I'm not a whore. Then I spent three months trying to find something else. Anything else. It looks like I'm not working again. Anything low level I'm over-qualified. Anything else I'm rejected. They'll take me for this though".

"What? Are you're signing up? Are you crazy?"

She said nothing, but shook her head, pulled out her phone, and showed me the sign-up page. Showed me the amount of money you make. Per hour. I looked back at her face. I could see she was torn. The porn was nothing besides this, and she knew that; it was simply enough to get it on the table. The only thing that could solve our problems in time.

"Karen..."

"It's totally safe, I was worried about that too. Turns out they can configure the event horizon to only let human DNA through - no disease. Not there are many that can't be cured any more. Nothing inorganic at all, so no danger there. You can force anything you want back to where it came from at the push of a button. And to be completely safe they give you an injection that immunizes you to everything. And they give you a couple of internal wormholes as well to make sure no one needs to deal with waste products again. And they don't broadcast you on the porn networks, that's only a small fraction of the work they do."

She looked like she was trying to convince herself as much as me. I knew we didn't have another choice. She knew we didn't have another choice. But I couldn't let her do this, could I?

"Honey, there must be another way."

She snapped. "We been saying that for a year. A year! Don't you think we'd have found something by now? I don't want to do this. We're married, it's supposed to be just me and you. But this is money, now, and there's no other way to get it. We're in debt up to our eyeballs. At least you have a job, I have nothing! Or do you want to swap? Do you want to sign up and do this? No? Of course you don't. I'd earn more anyway."

I had nothing to say to that. I could say nothing. My beautiful, delicate wife. Getting fucked for, as I could see on the sign-up plans, two, four, or eight hours a day. Solving all of our financial problems but in one fell swoop. And creating who knows how many others. I could just picture her being treated the way the porn channels did, getting fucked in the shower, getting fucked while walking in the park, getting fucked while we lay in bed together.

Why was my cock so fucking hard?

* * * * * * * *

Life had been normal for the past few days. Neither of us willing to talk about the sign-up being processed somewhere. We'd watched TV, eaten meagre meals, even had sex with the knowledge it would be the last times she'd never experienced someone else. The last time, just after we finished, I had asked her if she was ready to experience someone else. She had hesitated for a moment before responding.

"I think so? I guess we'll see. I've been thinking of it like the dildos I used to use. It's gonna be just like that right baby? Like these are sex toys, it's not even real. What about you?"

I had to think about it for a while. The image of my wife being filled over and over hadn't really left me. I felt suspended between absolute jealousy and bizarre arousal.

"I remember a few times when we started having sex you used your dildos while I watched. I remember you putting on that show for me and it was really kinda hot. Maybe this will be the same. It's just sex toys right?"

She met my nervous smile with her own. This would be strange, but we could face it together. I truly loved this woman. I brought my face closer to hers, and we kissed. Gently at first, then with increasing passion. She reached down to find my cock hard again, and gave me a surprised look. I gave a half shrug back and continued kissing her, grinding my body against hers. I started to kiss my way down her body out of pure instinct, and she did nothing to stop me. As I kissed my way back up her thighs, I realised we had never done this before - she was still full of my cum. I moved closer and hesitated.

"Baby," she said, "you don't have to ooooh."

I dove straight in, lapping at her as I always did. In truth the taste of my cum wasn't too strong, a slight saltiness added to my wife's musk. I licked her clean and licked her back into a mess as she came on my face. I moved up and kissed her deeply, and she gave me a strange look afterwards, but kissed me again as I slid inside her. With the taste of both of us on my tongue, even having just came, I could only last a few minutes more than normal, but I was rewarded by feeling her cum on my cock. We drifted off to sleep in one another's arms, contented.

The next day, the delivery wormhole chimed, activated, and we heard the faint whump of a package just big enough to brush the limits of our free-tier home wormholes. Karen went to fetch it, as my heart started to race.

"Is that it?" I asked, unable to tell if I wanted it to be or not.

She nodded. We opened the package. A shot to prevent all disease. Applicators for the internal waste wormholes. How utopian. And a pair of flexible ring wormholes.

"Why a pair?" I asked. "The box says it should only contain one."

"Maybe a spare?" my wife replied. We were both focusing on anything but the elephant in the room. We sat in silence for a moment as she read the instructional leaflet. She took the shot, and went to the bathroom to use the applicators. She came back shortly in just her gown. "Does that feel ok? Can you feel them?" I asked.

"Yeah they're definitely in there, I don't need to pee at all, but I did a minute ago. I can't feel them though. Benefits, right?" she said with a wry half-smile.

She resumed reading through the manual.

"OK, it looks like I can just put it up against me, and it'll align itself, reshape itself, and activate for my shift". We'd settled on two hours - even that felt like an infinite amount of time.

"Do you need me to... help?" I asked. Ha. Useless.

"No please just, stay here with me."

"Of course I'm here for you. I love you Karen, you know that right?"

"I love you too. OK. Let's rip this band-aid off." She gave me a flicker of a smile, grabbed the wormhole, opened her gown and placed it against her lips. I could see through it as it aligned, covering her clit and vagina. Was she... wet? I looked at her nervous face. She can't be. But would she be wet at the thought of playing with a sex toy? The back of the wormhole took on the mirror haze of an active connection.

I felt her lean against me, asking me to hold her. I was more than happy to - my wife, giving up so much. Her eyes widened.

"I can feel... someone's cock is touching me - aaaaAAAAH". She fell fully onto me. My arms surrounded her. My cock was a steel bar in my pants.

"Oh god, honey, it's sliding into me, oh my god, so hard, oh fuck, fuck, he's fucking me." Her eyes were closed tightly. Surely this was torture for her. She started to breathe more and more heavily. I realised she wasn't holding back pain.

"Does it feel... good?" she looks at me with semi-glazed eyes. "It's ok to enjoy it honey. It's just physical."

That was all she needed. She started moaning loudly, head thrown back. Her breath came harder and harder. My wife was about to cum on another man's cock. A total stranger, her first apart from me, fucking her from who knows where. She pulled me to her for a rough kiss, then pulled back. She screamed as she came, digging her fingernails into my back. I shot my load in my pants. Fifteen minutes passed with her in a daze, and I realised she was still getting fucked by the same guy. I was hard again. I'm not sure she noticed the cum stain. I'm not sure she noticed anything. Another ten minutes later, and she gasped.

"He came inside me". I thought I was going to cum there and then, again. My wife, full of another man's cum. As safe as can be, but still, she was full of someone else.

"What... what happens now? Does it stop and you get a chance to clean up?"

We soon had our answer. Almost immediately another guy started fucking her. It seemed much less intense this time. "Are you ok honey?"

"Yeah, this guy is kinda small, and there's less friction now, I can keep it together, I think".

The second guy took a little longer to cum, and I think Karen was glad to recover a little.

The third guy nearly broke her. Right from the start, she looked at me with almost panic in her eyes.

"This one feels... big. He's - AH - moving in slowly but - FUCK - he's huge. I held her close as she took the biggest cock of her life. Her third that day, and the third that isn't mine. She started screaming constantly. I reached for the "reject" button on her phone.

"Don't, it - ah - costs money". I still hovered over the button, but she was getting used to it. She pulled the phone out of my hand, puts it down and pulled me to her. "Just lay down with me, kiss me you know, make it - aahhh... aaaaahhh fuck he's so big oh my god he's so much bigger than... oh my god." Bigger than me. She was getting the fucking of her life. I looked down at her taut stomach and realised I could see it. I could see the bulge as this massive cock pumped in and out of my wife's pussy. I pulled her in and kissed her, as she moaned into my mouth.