The Cuck

We lay in each other's arms for some time, her arms and legs wrapped solidly around me. She clutched me, her chin on my shoulder, like someone would desperately clutch a floatation device stranded in the middle of the ocean. Unable to move, I just enjoyed the closeness of her and the heady scent of mingled perfume, wet pussy, and cum.

Finally, she whispered into my ear, "Thank you, Jim," and began to weep gently.

"Please, don't," I whispered, freeing myself enough to wipe away a tear.

She attempted to smile, nodded, and released me. I slid off to the side, and we embraced again.

"I should go," I began. "If I stay, I might fall asleep, and if your husband woke up with a naked man covered in cum and squirt, he might get upset finding his wife next to that man also covered in cum and squirt," I chuckled.

She smiled sadly, nodded, and released me. I dressed as she watched me lying on the bed.

"You can show me out," I said.

She arose and reached for a bathrobe hooked on the end post of her headboard.

Grinning, I caught her hand to stop her, and with my other hand's index finger, I waggled it back and forth as I shook my head side to side, whispering, "No."

She looked confused as I started walking with her to the bedroom door. Her eyes lit up as she realized what I was doing.

"You are a wicked one, aren't you?" she breathed.

All I did was smile as I led the naked Mrs. Stokes, bathed in squirt and cum, down the hall, stairs, and then to the front door. At it, she must have thought I would bring her no further because of the shocked look on her face as I opened the door and gently but firmly tugged her onto the porch. She resisted just a bit as I led her down the front steps in full view of the road to my car. There, I crushed her to myself, and in that moment, we both lost all inhibitions and brazenly embraced and stroked each other.

"Thank you, Jim," were her last words as I entered my van and started. I could see her still waving as I turned onto the street.

>>>>>

The following day, around ten, I picked up the phone and called Carolyn.

"Hello, Stokes residence," she said.

"Hi, Carolyn, it's me, Jim Bolton. How are you doing today?" I replied.

"Jim," she squealed, seemingly excited I had called.

"Did Kenny get off to work?" I chuckled.

"Yes, with a big headache. He took an Uber to Adel's to get his car," she chuckled.

"Good, so what are you doing for lunch today?" I brazenly asked.

There was quite a pause when she said tentatively, "Nothing."

"Then how would you like to go to lunch with me?" I asked pleasantly.

"I would really love that," she said excitedly.

"I will pick you up in an hour. Oh, and by the way, do you have one of those tight white tank tops?" I asked.

"Why yes," she replied.

"Wear it then with no bra, a skirt, a wrap-around, or elastic band pull-up. I don't care with no panties,"

I said, slowing down so that each of the words, no bra and no panties, were said with emphasis. There was a pause when I heard a giggle.

"May I wear shoes?" she giggled.

"Yes, nice high heels," I replied.

"I will be ready," she said, still giggling.

"Good. In an hour, then. Bye," I said, only hesitating long enough to hear Carolyn's bye in answer.

Luckily, she called the guard shack and told them I would be coming. She was waiting on the top step as I pulled into the drive. She was already entering the car before I could get out to do the gentlemanly thing of opening and holding the door.

"So, am I dressed properly, Mr. Bolton?" she giggled.

She, indeed, had on a white cotton tank top, tight and thin. Her areolas were a pronounced suggestion as dark rings, and her nipples, hard and long, made neat bumps in the flimsy material. Her skirt was an elastic pull-up, just above the knee and tight over her hips.

"I don't know. I can't tell by looking," I replied.

Surprised, she squinted, saying, "Then how?"

"By touch, my dear," I said as I reached over and boldly lifted her tank top over her breasts and openly felt her tits.

I took my time feeling her beautiful tits, squeezing them, pinching, pulling, and rolling each nipple, finally leaning in and sucking on her left nipple.

Sitting back up, I said, like an inspector, "Well, the top seems correct. Now, I must verify your compliance on the bottom."

She squealed as I pulled her skirt up, exposing her pussy, and as my hand made contact, she spread her legs disgracefully far apart, and I felt her warm dampness and caught the scent of her rapidly moistening pussy. I stroked her outer lips, then her inner, and finally pinched, pulled, and thumbed her clit. She moaned as I took my time stoking the fires of her passion.

When she squealed, "Oh, god," I stopped.

"Yes, I believe you are fully compliant. Please fasten your seat belt," I chuckled as I pulled down the driveway.

We ate three towns over well out of the county where it would be improbable to run into anyone we knew. The further out we got, the more relaxed Carolyn became. At the restaurant, nothing to get excited about; I requested a booth and put her on my left, and commenced almost immediately to molest her pussy. She had some trouble ordering as I toyed with her clit, and the look on the waitress's face was fascinating. It seemed like something between, "Is this woman handicapped?" or "Is she on drugs?"

Just before our food arrived, Carolyn whispered, whining, "Please, stop. I'm going to cum."

Of course, I didn't, and she buried her face in my shoulder to keep from screaming at the moment of the arrival of the food. Still convulsing, she took her plate and somehow put it in front of herself without spilling it.

The waitress screwed up her face and asked Carolyn, "Are you OK, Hon?"

All Carolyn could do was nod.

When the waitress left, Carolyn punched me on the shoulder, whispering, "Bastard," and began to laugh. "I guess I am supposed to help you now, but how can we?" she said.

"You owe me one," I said.

"Anytime and anywhere," she cooed.

At this point, I got serious and said, "No. Never say that. To me, anytime and anywhere means just that. It could be in front of your mother, your husband, and even now, with you draped over the table. Never say that," I repeated.

Cowed, she replied, "What should I say?"

"Just acknowledge the debt. Just reply, OK," I said.

"OK," she replied.

We enjoyed our soup and sandwich lunch, ending with coffee and my hand moving slowly up her thigh.

Before it got to her pussy Carolyn pleaded, "Let's go back to my place."

She pulled my cock out in the car and played with it while I played with her pussy the entire hour it took us to get to her house. It was already late afternoon. I parked down the street, and we walked the rest of the way. Once inside, we raced to her bedroom, where I removed her top and skirt, and we essentially repeated what we had done the night before. Except that at the point I was going to get her to cum on my cock I moved us off the bed to the bedroom window doggy style. She held onto the inside sill while I pounded her pussy and played with her tits and clit. Her orgasm was coming, but when I saw her getting close, I would change up so it would delay her. Finally, she began to get frustrated.

"Oh, Jim, make me cum. Stop fucking around," she squealed.

"Sorry," I said, panting, "I am waiting for someone."

"What? Who?" she squealed, trying to turn around and disengage.

"Your husband. Do you see the dot on the screen of my phone there?" I asked.

Horrified, she looked at it and squealed, "Yes."

"That is your husband—or at least his car, which I assume he is in. It looks like he should be pulling into the driveway just about now!" I shouted, redoubling my thrusts and poling her like a demented monkey. Don't you want to wave to him?" I roared.

"Stop! He will be in the house soon," she wailed.

At that moment, he exited his car, and we heard him whistling. He mounted the steps going out of sight from our vantage point. I then pulled her back and forced her to her hands and knees, pointing at the bedroom door.

"Please stop. He will find out," Carolyn whispered desperately.

"Carolyn," Kenny called. Then again, in a more aggravated tone, "Carolyn, where the fuck are you."

She was shocked to inaction.

Pulling her ear close, I whispered, "Tell him you are about to shower."

"I'm going to take a shower," she called down.

"Oh, OK, I will be in my office. Call me for dinner," Kenny said.

Clutching her close, still poling her, I whispered into her ear, "We are fucking while your Cuck is in the house and not drunk. Cum for me, Carolyn, cum."

Carolyn began to tremble and then quake as the tsunami of an orgasm began to overwhelm her. She groaned and croaked as she bucked and convulsed on my cock, trying desperately not to make noise.

When she calmed and sighed, I said, "I didn't cum. Let's take a shower. Cum washes off easily in the shower."

We took a nice warm shower as I fucked her, and she again came on my cock. The remnants did wash off easily.

"How are you going to get out without him seeing?" she asked as we finished dressing.

"His office is in the back. We go down the stairs, you go to the back to distract him, and I will exit the front," I said confidently.

She was skeptical, but it worked.

>>>>>

The next day, I again picked up the telephone and called Carolyn.

"Hello, Stokes residence," she said.

"Hi, Carolyn, it's Jim," I replied.

She squealed in excitement, "Hi. You were right. He never noticed you."

"Good. How does breakfast sound?" I asked.

"Wonderful," she exclaimed.

"Do you want me to dress like I did yesterday?" she asked playfully.

"No. Today, I want you to put on a dress that you can slip on over your head and no bra or panties," I replied confidently.

"OK," she said slowly, wondering what the fuck was in the timbre of her voice.

As I pulled into the driveway, she was again waiting at the bottom of her front steps. She entered and leaned over for a kiss. I pulled out my phone.

"Remember the dot?" I asked.

Squinting, she looked at my phone and said, "Yes, you are tracking Ken."

"Right. So, he works in the Fairfax County seat, right?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"So, why is the dot over at the east end of DC?" I replied.

She sat a bit perplexed.

"I have no idea," she said.

"Let's find out," I said, pulling into the street.

We drove for almost an hour, carefully winding our way through the end-of-rush-hour traffic, which really never ends around DC. The dot had stopped thirty minutes or so earlier, and as we turned onto the suburban street, I figured out what was happening. The street was narrower, with cars parked on either side of the street in a college area. A small single-story on the right had a bright blue Porsche in the driveway.

"Does that Porsche look familiar?" I said casually to Carolyn.

Scowling, she sneered, "That son of a bitch."

I continued down the street, slowly examining the house. It had a fence around both sides with bushes along the side of the house, effectively obstructing the view from the street. I turned at the following street, did the square coming down the street again, and stopped several houses away. It was a quiet street with no kids out and looked deserted. It was obviously a commuter suburban street. I got out, helped her out of her seat, and walked down the sidewalk to the house with her a couple of steps behind. The house was close to the street, and after looking around, I ducked between the fence and the bushes, motioning for Carolyn to follow. Peeking into the first window, I saw a living room. The second was a bedroom, and bingo!

I motioned Carolyn close and hidden from the street by a bush; she peeked into the window. Kenny and an auburn-haired beauty were fucking like wild monkeys in the missionary position. The bed's position provided a clear view of their faces, so there was no mistaking their identities, and both were as naked as the day their mother delivered them. She was screeching and arching, and he was up on his hands like in a push-up position, pounding her like a jackhammer. I took my phone out, took a half dozen shots, and ran a short video. All Carolyn did was half squat at the window, peeking in.

"There, now you have all the proof you need," I whispered into her ear as I lifted the hem of her skirt. Surprised, she tried to turn, but I reached around her, crossed my arms, embraced her, and ran my hands up her ribs, forcing the dress up to her armpits.

"What?" she whispered desperately.

I forced the dress entirely off her over her head and tossed it to the side. Even from the side view, her face screamed total shock. I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock, and with a stroke or two, brought it to life while holding her motionless. Placing my cock at her sex, I slid it into her pussy easily and began to pole her slowly.

"What are you doing?" she whispered almost inaudibly.

With a tit in each hand and my cock buried in her pussy, I poled her with both of us watching the free sex show. Stroke after stroke, I gave Carolyn speeding up until I matched the frenzy of her husband fucking the bimbo. She tried desperately not to make any noise, eventually shoving her fist in her mouth. The sounds of the two in bed reached a crescendo, and the woman gushed squirt around Ken's cock, and Ken howled at the moon. At the same time, Carolyn hosed squirt around my cock, and I grunted, sending streams of cum deep into her willing pussy. As the illicit couple collapsed and came down from their high, Carolyn collapsed back into my arms, and we knelt there until my cock popped out.

Smiling a wicked smile, I fetched her dress, and she hurriedly slipped it on. We rechecked the room and found the two star-crossed lovers cuddled, seemingly napping. We walked to the sidewalk and down to the car. I opened her door, and Carolyn turned and kissed me.

Still holding me, her arms around my neck, she said, "Now that was an erotic start to the morning."

"Really," I replied, "How so?"

"I saw my naked husband fucking a naked woman and cumming in her while I was naked being fucked by another man, and I now have his cum running down my leg. Delicious," she said, sliding into the car. "Now, where shall we eat?"

We stopped at a non-descript diner and had a leisurely brunch. Arriving just before noon at Carolyn's house, I parked several houses down. Neither of us was hungry for food. I raised her hem as she led me up the steps to her porch. She raised her arms, so I stripped her of it entirely, tossing it aside onto one of the porch chairs. She stepped aside, giving full view to the street of her nakedness, and handed me the keys. I unlocked the door, allowing her to go first. We kept a close eye on the little dot tracking on my phone and, at her request, were fucking doggy-style against the bedroom door.

"Carolyn," we heard Ken say.

Carolyn did not reply.

"Carolyn, where are you?" came a second call.

Again, she did not answer, and I could hear his footsteps on the steps.

"Well, this may get interesting," I thought.

The fear of discovery slowed the coming of my orgasm as I waited to see this play out.

Carolyn," Ken bellowed sharply.

To my shock, Carolyn turned, grasped the doorknob, opened the door slightly, and leaned forward so only her head appeared in the gap.

"What?" she screeched. "I am trying to get ready to take a shower."

"Oh," he said, a bit deflated.

"Go...somewhere...else," she growled and slammed the door.

I almost laughed, catching myself just in time.

"OK, I'll be in my office," he said weakly.

As we heard the footfalls going downstairs, she said, "There now fuck me like you mean it."

So, I did.

>>>>>

The liaisons with Carolyn continued almost daily for several weeks. It was fun, and she was so orgasmic that I didn't have to weary myself getting her to cum. I have a fetish for seeing woman cum. Whether the orgasm is a diminutive shivering in a public place in an attempt not to be discovered or a screeching and screaming full-body convulsions. I love them all. The hardening of their bodies, the sexual blush of their face, neck, and breasts, the hardening and erection of their nipples, it is all so very damn erotic. To ride them like a bucking bronco or laugh as they quake, trying not to squeal as your fingers bring them over the edge. Their squirting is better than a slip and slide, and when they surrender to the orgasm, you made them have, oh, that is some mighty fun. And Carolyn had her share of orgasms in those weeks. And I got to observe them gleefully.

One day I said to her as we lay side by side in the afterglow of a good fuck, "You know, we have pushed some limits here."

She closed her eyes and smiled, "Yes, we have."

"Let's see, I fucked you naked and made you cum with your Cuck in bed, drunk, check. I fucked you naked in the bedroom as your Cuck came in the house, not drunk, several times, check," I said as she giggled. "I fucked you naked in the shower after your Cuck came to the door calling out for you, not drunk, several times, check. I fucked you at the door of the bedroom naked with your head sticking out of the door, telling your Cuck to go somewhere else several times, check. I even fucked you naked outside of your Cuck's lover's house in the bushes while your Cuck was naked fucking his naked bimbo, not drunk, check. Looks like there are just two more levels to go."

Giggling, she said, "Levels, whatever do you mean?"

"Two more levels. I need to fuck you naked in front of your Cuck with him, not knowing it is you and not drunk," I said but didn't continue.

After several moments, she squinted up her face and asked, "And what is the second one?"

"Why fucking you naked with your Cuck watching, knowing it is you, and not drunk," I replied.

She took on a more severe look, saying tentatively, "The first sounds erotic as hell. The second doesn't seem possible."

"We shall see," I said, kissed her, and stroked her breasts.

As her nipples hardened and my fingers found her clit, she sighed, hissing, "Fuck yes," and we tabled the discussion.

A week or so later, I said to her again, lying beside me in her Cuck's bed in the afterglow of another magnificent session of passionate fucking, "You know your Cuck doesn't recognize me."

"Really," she said, turning to face me, elbow on the bed, and her head in her hand.

"Yes, I met him at a restaurant and spoke to him, but he didn't know me," I said.

"Oh," she shrugged, wondering where this was going.

"So, I thought we might accomplish the first of the remaining levels," I chuckled.

As I told her we were going out, she badgered me with questions, and more questions came as we dressed. I didn't allow her underwear, of course, and in the tight white tank top and wrap-around skirt, she looked sexy as hell. It continued in the car as well until about an hour later, we arrived at a sex shop. Her shocked look was precious, and I thought for a moment she might resist, but she steeled herself and entered with me. When I was a young man, they were usually dingy and dark places with people's faces hidden, furtive, fearful of discovery. Today, they are like a Walmart. They are well-lit, with soccer moms and guys in business suits perusing the stacks of brightly colored packaging.

We first went to the costume/roleplay department, and I picked out a two-piece sexy slave costume. She looked aghast at it.

"This will get your Cuck warmed up," I chuckled.

I then went to the restraints department and picked out wrist and ankle restraints with connecting chains. Carolyn was embarrassed as I tried them on to ensure they fit. Next came the collar and leash department, where she was again mortified when I tried it on. At this point, a sales girl noticed us and came over. She was young, maybe nineteen or twenty, about five feet three inches, in a tight, low-cut tank top with the store's logo on the front cropped off just below her tits, exposing her abdomen. Her breasts were large and swayed seductively under the top.