The Cuckquean Dream

"Sorry!" he shouted, meaning it, as the door closed.

********************

Hours later, the evening was a truly miserable one. After Vicky had dressed and Jim had two beers, they calmly sat across the living room from each other, discussing what had happened, why, and what to do about it. Nothing being said surprised either of them. Vicky denied that it was a pattern. Steven expressed his fury in words.

Eventually he found himself cowed by his wife. His being a lawyer, well-trained in negotiation, only mattered somewhat. The fact that he had objective leverage in the discussion that ensued was diminished by the clever machinations of his wife, who managed to apologize for her infidelity, while simultaneously reminding him that it was his unwillingness to indulge in her more lascivious fantasies that had created this situation in the first place. She craved to be taken, to be tied down, to be called dirty names and humiliated.

Hours later they arrived at the conclusion that she was to give her body an exceptionally thorough cleansing, and that she was to be prepared for a wild time when Steven came home the following evening, a Friday evening. They would nip the problem at the bud, they said. She would get what she needed, he would get a new thrill out of it, and they could put the event behind them forever. Steven tentatively agreed to prepare himself for it, figuring if he hadn't previously had the anger to slut-shame his wife or say nasty things to her, he certainly now had the inspiration needed. With the concession that his wife stop using Jim as a personal trainer, he agreed to it, despite the empty feeling in his soul that he felt. They had an accord.

Steven laid awake in bed that night, his attention shifting between his erection and the dissonance in his thoughts. He felt taken advantage of. It was too much. She had duped him again and he went for it. He pondered what the solution might be until his propensity for cleverly abusing contract clauses took hold.

"If she wants to be tied up and humiliated by her husband, so be it," he thought, grinning to himself, and went to sleep feeling much easier.

The next morning Steven went into the office early with a spring in his step, pleased to find that Maria's bright eyed face was there to greet him, having come in moments earlier to begin opening up the office. Her pencil skirt, professional-looking but perhaps an inch higher on the thigh than is standard, left some candy to the eye. She straightened up where she was standing, holding a stack of folders in her right arm. Nobody else had arrived yet.

"Good morning, sir!" she brightly chirped, flashing her biggest smile.

He walked up briskly, smiling. "Hello there!"

He noticed how plump her rear end looked in the black skirt, something he noted often as he journeyed through the office. Only this time, he reacted differently. As he got close, instead of the hand on the shoulder or the occasional hug, his hand firmly clapped against her skirt-clad ass, rippling against his palm in a delightful manner. Maria's big almond eyes shot open, her lips parted in surprise as she turned her head.

"Mr. Reilly!" Both curiosity and pure shock were evident in her tone.

Leaving his hand on her backside, he spoke with conviction. "Clear the first hour of my day. I have a project I need your help with." Maria raised her eyebrows at him in playful suspicion, smirking, before hurrying to her desk to retrieve a notepad and follow him into his office.

*********************************

That morning, Vicky woke up after Jim had already left. Despite the feeling of misery that had ensued from the previous evening's argument, her tight thigh muscles and sore insides had her re-living the events of the previous evening in her mind. She was tempted to touch herself, but resisted, wanting to be fresh for the coming night.

"Not too bad," she thought to herself, "it could've gone a lot worse." She swallowed her shame and sadness at disappointing Steven and headed to the shower. Vigorously scrubbing herself clean head-to-toe, she spent a long time on her sex, which still assuredly had dried semen in and around it. She lathered her blonde hair, intending to keep it down for him, lest he remember the messy twirl she had it in the previous day. She had a light lunch, not wanting to be weighted down, and called her friend Mara to talk out the previous day's events.

As it neared the hour of return, she stripped off her house wear and admired herself in the mirror. Her breasts had started to battle gravity after the breastfeeding years, but they still retained a decent shape, if only somewhat lower than before. She cursed the bits of cellulite she could detect in her butt and thighs, but her lean frame distracted her from it. While standing her belly was almost flat from the training, only pooching out a bit when she sat. She still had the same winning smile and proportionate face that had dazzled so many in the past, and she knew it when she went about her errands at the shopping center.

As the pre-arranged hour approached for his return from work, she threw on a silky robe and left it open, dragging a sturdy armchair from the guest room into the center of the bedroom. She delicately arranged the silk scarves that were to bind her in a line. After some careful consideration, she tentatively pulled out her ballgag, something she had bought years ago but had never gotten Steven to use. Perhaps he'd breeze right past the amateur-level, she mused.

She heard the car door slam outside, right on time. She positioned herself in the doorway of the bedroom, intending to have him walk in to her in her open robe, leaning, waiting for his advances. She felt the first glimmer of excitement toward the prospect of fucking her husband that she had felt in years.

As he entered the home she could hear him rustling about downstairs before the clomping of his loafers came upstairs toward the bedroom. He turned the hallway corner with a smile on his face, looking particularly put together that day. His well-tailored collared shirt clung to his sturdy form, and a five-o-clock shadow adorned his face. His chest hair curled out from the upper button of his shirt, and she began to remember how badly she used to crave having him overwhelm her. Vicky turned on the charm.

"Who is this powerful, dashing man?" she bemused aloud, embellishing every word. "Could it be my husband, come to claim his wife?"

He nearly scoffed, holding it under his breath. What precarious words to choose the day after your husband finds you fucking a stranger, he thought. She walked up to him, placing one hand on his shoulder and one directly on his crotch. He needed to maintain his cool for now though; and he did so with a smile as he admired the view, her open robe flowing behind her like a cape. She rubbed the scruffiness of his face and ran her hand behind his neck, pressing her tongue into his mouth. Steven could feel her gripping him down below and the blood rushed from his head.

He broke away gently, "Now now, you remember the agreement. Let's get you tied down before the festivities begin." His words stunned her: how many years had she tried to get him to say just that?

"Sir, yes sir!" she said mockingly, grinning from ear to ear as she pulled away and walked over to the armchair in the room, shedding her robe on the floor. Her naked butt went down into the seat, and she crossed her legs and arms, her tits squeezed together for effect. Vicky felt a thrill as he collected the silk scarves from the bed, walking behind her. She rested her head back on his stomach, his erection poking into her neck through his pants, as he bent over to pull both her wrists back behind the chair, easily tying a firm knot that secured her wrists to the chair back. His scouting days, decades past, were finally proving worth his parents' money.

She giggled and squeezed her toes into the soft carpet as he tied each ankle to a chair leg. The helplessness she felt was liberating, the feeling overwhelming as it sunk in that she could not move her limbs at all. Her heart craved it, being bound and unable to defend herself. She had chased the feeling through decades of marriage and the closest she had been able to feel was when a man far bigger than herself would pin her down and take her roughly, not letting her up. Finally she was about to get it. Her husband was going to use her.

She started talking nervously, excited, "Oh god honey, I don't know what to say. I'm so fucking thrilled you want me like this." She felt him tighten the knots once more.

"Then don't say anything at all - I'm not terribly concerned with what comes out of your slutty mouth."

The words rang like fireworks in her ears. She fantasized about him talking dirty to her. In fact, on the rare occasion she masturbated thinking about her husband she'd often be silently mouthing all the filthy names he'd be calling her in the fantasy, all the lascivious things he'd be saying. Now he was implying she was slutty, a concept that didn't bother her all that much. The fact it rang true a bit wasn't lost on her, and made it that much more thrilling. But she didn't have but a moment before suddenly she felt the ball gag against her lips, and as her husband pulled the buckle behind her head it tightened, forcing her to open her mouth and let it rest between her teeth. As it was strapped into place she felt like a stuck pig, a big apple in her mouth for the roast. Lust overwhelmed her, and she could feel herself moisten rapidly. If only she could touch herself...

Vicky let out a muffled sound through the gag, looking up at her husband with fire in her eyes, her nipples hardening. She spread her thighs as much as she could in the chair, taking a glance down at her own glistening blonde bush. He came around to her front and kneeled down calmly before her, resting one elbow on her knee and gently caressing her labia with the other hand. He looked her dead in the eye.

"Are you ready to see just how cruel your husband can be?" he inquired calmly. Making muffled noises, wide-eyed, she nodded, her blonde bangs falling around her eyes.

"Good. Come in, Maria!"

Vicky's blood ran cold as ice. Her eyes shot toward the doorway as a female figure stepped into the room. The woman was younger than herself and impeccably dressed, a navy blue pencil skirt outlining her hips quite nicely along with a fitted white blouse. Chin-length black hair framed a youthful face, and Vicky could feel as much as she could see the large, piercing almond eyes looking through her like she was transparent. Vicky's mind raced to comprehend what was happening; as anger and fear overtook her she let a muffled shout into the ballgag, making a racket against the chair as she bruised her wrists struggling against the silk scarves that secured her.

Who the fuck was she, and how could Steve let her saunter around their marital bedroom while his wife was tied up and unable to protect her modesty? The woman flowed into the room gracefully, her bare feet wisping her silently across the carpet, smiling at Steven as she approached him. "Hello, Mr. Reilly," she spoke with a syrupy texture, allowing him the wrap his arms around her and embrace her fully, their lips meeting as they exchanged a passionate kiss. Vicky let out another torrent of noises, audibly struggling against the fabrics as the younger woman slipped her tongue into her husband's mouth. One of Maria's hands fell down to brush over the bulge in his slacks before she knelt down in front of Vicky, resting a hand on each of her adversary's naked white knees and leaning on them.

"...and what a pleasure it is to see you again, Mrs. Reilly!" she spoke in a gleeful tone, a faint Hispanic accent giving context to the beautiful tanned complexion. "I hear so, so much about you at the office."

"All wonderful things." Steve chimed in dryly, smirking down at them both.

Vicky's brow furrowed with disgust as the younger woman turned back to her, looking her in the eye. "Oh yes, I get to hear all kinds of things about you and your husband. I even heard about your latest little adventure. You know..." she paused for emphasis, mockingly placing her hand to the side of her mouth so Steven couldn't see her silently intone the words, "with the big black cock." Maria smiled as Vicky let out another grunt and thrust herself forward in vain. Vicky resented every perfect inch of Maria's gorgeous face, from her pouty lips to her little button nose and big eyes, none blemished by even the first signs of aging.

Vicky's eyes were diverted as Steven stepped toward them both and ran his hands down Maria's slender form. He glanced casually over at his wife, "Don't worry though, honey," he spoke, not looking at her but down at Maria's skirt-clad backside, "by the time Maria is done with me you won't have to feel guilty anymore."

Vicky's struggles resumed as Maria raised back up to a standing position, leaning backward into Steven and rolling her head on his shoulder. Her eyes closed and she raised her arms above her head, running fingers over Steven's bald head as her tongue snaked back into his mouth. He let his hands paw at the younger woman briefly before he began to unbutton the blouse, her cleavage appearing a button at a time before it fell off her shoulders into a pool on the ground. The bra was unclasped next, though it still concealed Maria's bosom, the straps still being around her shoulders.

The captive audience watched as her husband's hands slipped beneath the underwire, feeling the young woman up. Maria cooed and broke the kiss, her face showing relaxation as her breasts were firmly kneaded. Maria didn't care all that much about having them fondled; it was more important to her to make Vicky watch her man get lost in her young charm. After letting Steve have his fun for a minute, she leaned forward again on Vicky's knees, the straps falling down to her wrists, leaving her nipples barely covered.

She spoke again while the older woman's fiery eyes scowled, "But in all seriousness Vicky, it really has been far too long since we've spoken, when was it?" she paused, "that's right! It was at that lovely Christmas Party at the office. You remember, the one where you were kind enough to point out just how much less slutty I would look if I properly buttoned up my shirt." Maria eyed her adversary's naked, heavy tits and gave them a tiny smack to the side, watching how they moved back and forth nicely before settling. Grinning, Maria then stood up again, allowing the bra to fall from her entirely. Those tits are spectacular, Vicky thought to herself in anger. They had the perkiness that hers did when she was flashing guys at school as a young woman, and they were closer together than her own were back then. She watched the youthful bounce in them as Maria stepped back and turned to her side a bit, letting Steven get the full access and view he had dreamed of for years. Even when she had blown him under the desk she had been fully clothed; this was the most he had ever seen of her body.

Steve's heart raced as he sat on the edge of the bed, enjoying the scorn on his wife's face as Maria walked up to him and pressed his head to her bosom, his cheeks and lips brushing across the dark brown areola that capped the perfect globes. Maria's sensitive flesh was tickled by his scruffy face.

She spoke down at them both, "You know Mrs. Reilly, now that I'm seeing your body, I think I can see why you were so upset about mine. Gosh, Mr. Reilly, don't your wife's breasts sit a bit low for your taste?" Steven had to let the hardened nipple pop out of his mouth to respond.

"That's right, and they sit too far apart, at that," he said, turning to stare at his wife's chest. He recalled their early years, when their friends referred to his wife's tits as "the show-stoppers" for their formidable size and cartoonish shape. The sight of them still got him hard all these years later: They were still large and sat nicely with proper support. But he wouldn't give her that grace right now. He almost felt a pang of sympathy for her as the sexy Latina continued her shaming; but remembering the shame he had felt watching that man plow his wife 24 hours earlier brought his fire back. "Thankfully I've got better now." His face turned back to the playground of flesh before him, grazing his lips and tongue against them instinctively.

Maria clicked her tongue to her teeth, looking with pity at Vicky. "It must be so frustrating, knowing how much your husband pays to ogle mine five days a week." Maria's eraser-tipped nipples were visibly beginning to protrude, the merciless teasing and sensuous kisses to the underside of her breast getting the better of her.

Vicky tried to shout 'fuck you' into the ballgag with marginal success. The pair before her took little notice: Maria was reaching downward to slowly stroke the hard-on her boss was packing behind his slacks. Vicky's nostrils flared as she watched with rapt attention, listening to her husband's groans as he indulged in the finer pair of breasts like they were candy. She watched the feminine hand, perfectly manicured with a dark red polish, unbuckle his belt single-handedly and proceed to unbutton the slacks. Her hand reached into his pants, the pumping motion clearly visible through the fabric. She watched him bask in his sexuality in a way she hadn't seen in years and she didn't turn away, despite her anger. She still came to her husband for release from time to time when she needed it. But commonly it was admittedly utilitarian, a quick penetration to get them both off if they were lucky. If she felt like she had neglected Steve and didn't need anything herself, a fast-paced handjob was usually her ticket to being able to relax again a few minutes later. Watching him worked into a lather again made her more jealous than anything else she had felt tied to that chair. She watched her husbands cock, fully-erect and red, get pulled from the waistband of his boxers.

"God, Mr. Reilly, you're so tense after all those awful meetings today. I can feel it," the younger woman stopped pumping and squeezed his erection for emphasis, "I think you need to relax for a moment before we get too far." With that she took her hands off of him and began unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it away to reveal the relatively fit, hairy body type both women tended to favor. Steve had certainly kept up his fitness, revealing a decently cut form.

Maria dropped down to her knees quickly to one side of where Steven sat, pulling down on his drawers. Both women looked at his manhood, protruding from a thicket of hair. It wasn't the water bottle of a dick that so many of Vicky's late night porn cravings featured, but it was thicker than most and he could ram her with it for long enough. He kicked off the boxers and took a glance up at his wide-eyed wife, finding himself gasping as the entirety of his painfully engorged member slid into Maria's warm mouth. In one swift motion she had descended upon it like prey, easily bringing her lips to the base, his pubic hair tickling her nose. She had sucked enough men off in her attention-seeking phase toward the end of high school, bigger ones too, and his was no problem. If anything, she was glad she had cultivated the skills to have them ready when it mattered to her.

Vicky smoldered and watched her husband disappear into the pretty younger girl's mouth. She cringed at the red lipstick that had smeared across the head and shaft as it came out of her mouth again, the obnoxious slurping sounds unwelcome in her ears as Maria put on a real show for them both. Even Vicky couldn't stop herself from watching the smaller breasts dangle and sway as the interloper gently kneaded her husband's balls in one hand, rubbing the saliva into them. Another few quick pumps before she vigorously sucked on the purple, circumcised head of the cock, and then back to the very bottom of her throat without so much as a hint of gagging. Vicky watched her husband groan uncontrollably, completely unaware of her again, his hips gently thrusting into the girl's face, her black hair brushing back and forth over her cheeks.