The Christmas Party

Eventually their lips parted and she was able to raise herself onto one elbow and slowly open her eyes. Open her eyes and look directly into the furious face of her husband as he leaned against the wall by the side of the bathroom door,

"Oh my God, Tom... What the fuck?... I mean, how long?... What are you doing here?"

Panic-stricken, she tried desperately to hide her sweaty nakedness from the scornful view of her husband.

"Ten minutes... You have ten minutes to get your disgusting self dressed and meet me in the car-park."

Tom's voice, a mixture of anger and sorrow, brought a sob of shame from his cheating wife before he turned and was gone.

"Oh my God!... What the fuck have I done?..." Samantha gasped softly, immediately realising what the consequences of her thoughtless, self-centred, betrayal of her loving husband might be, "Oh you poor man, I'm so sorry..."

Chapter 2 - Tom

Just a short while ago, Tom Green had been comfortable in his happy marriage to the love of his life. Yes, they'd had their ups and downs over the years, but doesn't every long-term marriage go through difficulties at one time or another? Now he felt totally destroyed by the events he'd just witnessed.

An overwhelming sense of disbelief and heartache filled his head as he silently drove along the quiet roads toward their home. How could she? How could the woman he'd loved and coveted for almost forty years betray him like that? Was it the first time? How long had she known him? Why had he never seen the wanton hussy in her before?

Slowly, despite all the feelings of misery and sadness filling his thoughts, Tom began to realise his own cock was betraying him too, throbbing harder and more erect between his legs than it had done for years. Disgust with himself joined his confused emotions. He desperately wanted to plot his revenge and retribution on the cheating bitch, not get excited at the thought of what he'd seen in that bloody hotel room, and yet here he was, angry and upset, yes, but also so excited he had the biggest hard-on he could ever remember having.

*****

He'd been bored, sitting at home while his lovely wife was out for the night at her company's annual Christmas shindig. They'd paid for overnight rooms at the hotel for their executives ever since the chief accountant had been stopped whilst well over the drink-driving limit a few years ago and lost his licence, and even though it was less than an hour away, Sam took advantage of the offer so as not to have to bother with a taxi in the early hours on a cold, winter night, when the weather in the north of England could be doing absolutely anything.

Now here he was. On a cold, Tuesday night. Home alone Nothing he fancied on the television - there wasn't even an old film recorded that he felt like watching again. What could he do instead?...

"Yes!..." He suddenly had an inspiration, "Hotel sex. Sam has always enjoyed it. She'll be a little horny too, after a few drinks at her party, I'll go wait in her hotel room for her..."

A few minutes later, shortly after 11pm, he was on his way...

*****

Getting a spare key to her hotel room hadn't been much of a problem - it's amazing what a £20 note can produce when presented to a bored hotel receptionist - and, after carefully avoiding the busy hotel bar, he quietly approached the door to his wife's room only to hear the muffled, but unmistakable, sounds of enthusiastic sex coming from within the room as he placed the key in the lock. Chuckling to himself, he went back down to reception.

"Excuse me... Excuse me, miss."

The chubby young girl looked up from reading her newspaper, and with a silent sigh and a false smile, went to the desk to enquire what the old man who was disturbing her quiet evening wanted.

"Yes sir, what can I do for you?"

"I'm sorry, but I think you've given me the wrong room key."

With a slight shrug of her shoulders, the girl took the key from him and went to her computer screen, returning a few seconds later..

"I'm sorry sir, that's the correct key... Mrs. Samantha Green, room 602, just as you requested."

Blushing, Tom took the key from her again and apologised.

"Stupid idiot, you must have gone to the wrong door," He chuckled softly to himself, turning away and heading toward the lift once more, leaving the young lady to get back to her boredom.

A few minutes later, he's standing outside room 602 once again, listening with his ear pressed against the door. The sounds were still there. This time he paid closer attention, hearing his wife's unmistakable voice extolling the virtues of someone's big, black, cock.

"Oh my God!!... What the?..." He gasped, the realisation of what was happening just a few feet away sending cold chills through his whole body, "Oh fuck!... surely not...Not my Sam..."

His hand shaking, he quietly opened the door. Inside, at the other end of the short corridor, he could just make out a pair of white legs dangling over the edge of the bed, wide apart with a man's muscular, ebony black, body in between them, his head obviously buried between the woman's thighs.

Still shaking, He nervously tip-toed down the short corridor, hoping beyond hope that he was mistaken; that it wasn't Samantha on that bed and that some other couple had somehow gained access to her room and were using it as a place for their clandestine sexual liaison. Sadly, devastatingly, he suddenly noticed her dress. The dress she'd spent a small fortune on just days before at that exclusive boutique was now laying on that hotel bedroom floor, crumpled like a discarded rag. A black bra he instantly recognised was tossed carelessly across the armchair in the opposite corner of the room; the matching panties abandoned on the carpet at the side of the dress.

A silent shiver went through him as he reached the end of the wall and gained a full view of the whole room. On the bed his wife; his loving companion for all those years; the mother of his children; the woman he would never have doubted in a lifetime; lay with her arms and legs wrapped tightly around a black stranger. Transfixed by the adulterous sight, Tom heard his wife's pleading voice as she demanded to be fucked hard by the other man's big cock; heard her begging for her old white cunt to be filled by his filthy nigga cum.

Never in their long life together had Tom heard his wife utter such profanity, even in her most sexually excited moments as she reached a climax. Appalled and devastated by what was happening just a couple of feet in front of him, the betrayed husband nevertheless found himself mesmerised by the wanton, animalistic rutting his wife was willingly participating in; captivated by her obvious enjoyment of being fucked by a cock much larger than his own. So much so, that he was unable to move, unable to do anything to stop them.

He watched, astonished at it's size, as the man's softening cock slid out of his wife's cunt when he slowly rolled off her. Shocked by the huge flood of sticky residue that followed the overly-large shaft out of her obscenely spread and swollen vagina, he couldn't prevent a small gasp escaping from his lips, drawing the attention of his wife as she lay there spread and open like a disgusting whore...

"Oh my God, Tom... What the fuck?... I mean, how long?... What are you doing here?"

Samantha's scream of astonishment shook Tom from his spellbound gaze. Anger and disgust immediately replacing all the other emotions flying through his confused brain, he demanded,

"Ten minutes... You have ten minutes to get your disgusting self dressed and meet me in the car-park."

*****

Tom angrily pushed his wife through their front door and into the living room of their secluded cottage. Pouring himself a large scotch, he sat down on his favourite armchair and downed the amber liquid in one, its stinging warmth swiftly spreading through his body.

Glaring at his shaking wife, he took in the shocking sight of her as she stood shivering and sobbing quietly in front of him,

"Get undressed," His angry demand even surprising himself, he snarled again as she stood unmoving in front of him, "I said, get undressed, you... You, fucking slut..."

"Oh, Tom... Please don't... I'm so sorry... Please..."

Her sobbing reply did nothing to appease his anger,

"You heard me, you whore... I said get undressed before I tear the fucking clothes off you myself."

Shocked by the obvious contempt in his voice, Samantha struggled to obey her husband, eventually managing to reach the zipper at the back of her dress and lower it before being able to shimmy the silky garment from her body and onto the floor.

"You fucking dirty, cheating bitch! You didn't even bother to dress yourself properly... Where's your underwear, you slut?... Did you leave it for your nigga lover as a fucking souvenir?... You fucking disgust me."

Her husband's profanity shook Samantha to the core. Never before had he used such language to her, called her such vile names. Sobbing deeply she tried to explain,

"I'm so sorry... I didn't have time... They're in my bag... Oh my God, Tom, please forgive me, my love..."

"Come here!"

His short, venomous demand compelled her to obey,

"Over my knee... Get your fat, adulterous arse over my knee, you black-cock loving slut."

Roughly he grabbed her arm, forcing her over his knees and leaving her naked bottom stuck up in air ready for anything he had in mind.

She didn't struggle. She knew she deserved anything he wanted to do to her as punishment for her betrayal. Although he had never hit her before in all their time together - apart from a few mild spankings when they'd experimented back in their younger years - she felt unable to condemn him for what she knew he was about to do.

Her loud scream of pain echoed around the room as the first slap cracked against her quivering buttock, followed quickly by another as the other cheek took the brunt of his anger. This wasn't going to be the playful spanking he'd administered before, this was a real, rage-fuelled beating on her amble backside that was going to hurt.

And hurt it did, more than anything she'd ever experienced apart from childbirth. This was a different pain though Bringing firstly loud screams of shock, then huge sobs of distress from deep within her, his assault on her lily-white bottom turned it as red as a London bus, stinging and throbbing, making her squirm maniacally across his knees as she begged him to stop. She'd almost passed out from the waves of agony emanating from her bottom, the terrible thrashing seeming to go on for hours, until with one last, thunderous slap, he tossed her quivering wreck of a body onto the floor in front of him.

*****

Dimly, as she lay on the rug, curled into a tight ball of aching flesh with tears streaming down her face, she became aware of him pouring himself another drink and quickly downing it.

"On your knees, bitch."

His voice, calmer than before, caused her to look up at him and see that he'd undone his trousers and stepped out of them leaving him naked from the waist down. She couldn't help but notice too, just how hard and strong his penis looked. Standing almost vertically against his stomach, it seemed to be throbbing against his belly, the knob red and angry-looking as it oozed a mucus liquid that dribbled down the shaft.

Realising his intentions, she pleaded,

"Oh God, please Tom... No... I didn't have time to shower... I'm dirty down there... I'm still full of..."

"Full of what, you nigga-loving whore?... Full of his filthy cum?... I thought that's what you loved... His dirty, black cum deep in your filthy white cunt... After all, it's much better than mine."

Samantha gasped. Realising just how much her husband had overheard back at the hotel, she burst into floods of tears once more,

"Oh my God... Please, Tom... I didn't mean all that... I was just... Oh God, I'm so sorry..."

"Oh don't worry yourself, nigga-lover, I saw how big he was and what it meant to you to be fucked like that... I'm not going to try and follow him into your unfaithful cunt. Now, get on your knees and spread your fat, virgin, arse..."

Sudden understanding of what her husband intended shocked Samantha to the core. He had never shown interest in her back-door before; never even played around with it much, even during prolonged foreplay. He wasn't to know just how often she had had her vibrator up there in her private moments, wasn't to know how much she enjoyed it. Hoping that he lubricated her somehow, she obeyed his instruction and knelt on the rug, reaching back and spreading her cheeks with both hands.

"Please Tom, please use something to lubricate me. You could damage me if you just fuck me dry back there, even damage yourself if I'm too tight."

Despite the strange mixture of anger and lust that was confusing his swirling mind, Tom realised she was right. Kneeling behind her, he plunged straight into her cunt, secretly marvelling at how smooth and wet it felt against him, even after it had been plundered by a cock so much bigger than his own. A few strokes later, just enough to coat him with what he knew was the other man's cum - and a coating that he found disturbingly exciting, he withdrew from the warmth of her cheating cunt and, with one firm shove, plunged all his average-sized cock as deep into her arsehole as he could until his full balls banged against her wet vaginal lips. Without preamble or consideration of any distress he may cause her, he immediately began fucking the tight hole wrapped around his invading cock with all the energy of a randy teenager.

Beneath him, Samantha moaned softly. Despite her predicament, despite everything she had done, everything that had brought them to this, she was enjoying herself. Her husband's cock, sliding rapidly in and out of her tight bottom was thrilling her; his groin banging against her tender, sore buttocks was hurting her in a lovely, sexy, way; and all of it was adding to the wild sensations of lust shooting through her and rapidly driving her toward yet another orgasm. It was new, it was different - and she was loving it...

"Oh fuck, yes my husband... Fuck my tight arse like the whore I am... Take your revenge and punish me... I'm so sorry, my darling, but I love your cock up my virgin arsehole..."

Suddenly Tom felt something different, something pressing against him from inside her vagina. Reaching beneath her writhing body, he found her hand clamped against her sex, all her fingers deep inside her and pressing against him deep inside her filthy, cum-soaked cunt.

"My God, you're a filthy whore alright. You love my cock up your arse. You enjoy it as much as his cock in your unfaithful cunt? Tell me bitch... Tell me how much of a whore you are..."

For the second time that night, Samantha lost all reason. Lust and depravity had taken over her mind to such an extent, she had no control over what she said,

"Yes... Oh, fuck... Yes, my darling... I love your cock up my arse... I loved his big, black cock in my filthy cheating cunt... I'm a cheating whore, a cock-slave... I love cockkkkk..."

His wife's scream of ecstasy as she came; her already-tight arsehole gripping his cock like a velvet clamp; took Tom over the edge. Four, five, spurts of thick cum shot from his cock and deep into her bowels bringing further moans of lust from her as her arse became as full of cum as her cunt had been earlier,

"You filthy bitch...Take my cum... I love your tight arse, your cheating, dirty cunt... Take it bitch..."

Desperately gasping for air, Tom fell to one side and onto his back, his rapidly-softening cock leaving his wife's sticky arsehole with an audible pop, leaving her knelt on all fours and gulping for breath herself.

Nervously, she cuddled against him, her naked breasts squashing against his side as she hugged him tightly, hoping that everything was going to be okay despite her betrayal of their marriage vows.

*****

It was Tom who moved first, moving her away from him before standing and walking to the cabinet where he poured another scotch for himself and a gin and tonic for her. His mind was in turmoil. On the one hand, the sense of betrayal and anger was so deep he could almost taste it, whilst against that, the sexual thrill he'd felt as he'd watched his loving wife being fucked by a big black cock that was little more than half her age was both confusing and breathtakingly exciting and the two very different emotions were tearing him apart. In fact, if anyone could have asked, he wouldn't have been able to explain which of the maelstrom of desire and despair flying around in his mind was winning the battle.

Samantha blushed as he came back toward her, embarrassed by what she felt obliged to do for him in order to try and prove her deep anguish at the heartache she'd caused him. Kneeling in front of him, she took his semi-hard cock in her hand and kissed it gently on the tip. Smiling up at him, she ignored the sticky off-coloured mess all over his shaft and swallowed as much of him as she could, using her lips and tongue to clean him, all the while her eyes locked to his in silent adoration.

"You really are a filthy whore."

Tom chuckled, enjoying her ministrations of his cock before joining her once more on the rug in front of the fire.

Samantha snuggled against him again, happy that he didn't seem angry any more and hopeful he'd eventually forgive her.

"I'm sorry Tom, I really am. I honestly don't know what came over me. It all happened so strangely. One minute we were dancing, the next we were kissing and it all seemed to go from there. I lost control. I can't even say I was drunk as an excuse... It was just as if my mind was taken over by some wanton crazy bitch who couldn't resist a strangers advances... I hope you can forgive me, my darling. I promise it will never happen again..."

"Oh..." The hint of disappointment in his voice made Samantha lean over him and look quizzically into his eyes, "I'm sorry too, I mean, I can understand how you enjoyed it so much, I saw how big he was, and how good he was at using it remember... It's just..."

Samantha reached down and took his soft balls in her hand, gently massaging them. A naughty glint in her eye, she looked into his,

"Just what, my darling?"

Blushing sheepishly, Tom averted his eyes from hers, closing them before softly replying,

"It's just that... You seemed to enjoy it so much, I thought you might like to see him again... Only this time, I'd like to be there from the beginning."

Samantha felt herself blush down her whole body. The shock of his words shook her. Did he really mean what she thought he did? It was what she'd heard, wasn't it? That she meet her black lover again, and that he, her long-time husband, wanted to watch her being fucked.

Grinning nervously, happy that he seemed to have forgiven her, and excited beyond belief at what he'd suggested, she queried

"You mean?... You know what that would mean, my darling... I would be, like a hot-wife... and you would be my cuckold... Are you really sure you want to go there?"

Her husband's gentle, almost imperceptible nod of agreement was enough for Samantha. Lust shot through her body once more as visions of what may happen in the future filled her imagination with the most naughty, wanton fantasies she'd ever known. With a firm squeeze of his rapidly hardening cock, she lay back and spread her legs, once more exposing her cum-filled cunt to her husband,