The Politician's Wife

And he was. He loved getting a woman's arsehole ready to be fucked, especially one as tight as this one, one which had never been fucked before. What he did next, however, shocked Alison almost as much as his finger entering her.

He bent over and ran his wet tongue around the outside of her tight hole, tasting her there for the first time but, he knew, not for the last. She had been humiliated enough when she had been forced to lick his hole but she thought she would die of shame when he began to push his tongue gently inside.

Alison gasped, amazed to realise it didn't feel too bad. Peter leaned in even closer and put his whole mouth over her hole, sucking, giving her sensations she neither knew nor understood. She felt him dipping his finger into her pussy again and she pushed back on him, wishing, hoping, that she could tempt him away from her forbidden hole.

Peter had other ideas of course and he withdrew from her cunt and brought it back to her arsehole. This time he didn't stop at just his fingertip but pushed in even further to the first knuckle. Her body tensed and she forced herself to relax again but, each time she did, he pushed in a little deeper.

She was moaning now, moaning at the shame of his finger's intrusion, moaning at the discomfort but, most of all, moaning in anticipation. She knew this to be true but she did everything not to acknowledge the feelings coursing through her.

When his finger was buried all the way inside her, he began to move it in and out, loving the sight as he thought how good it was going to feel when he replaced his finger with his cock.

"Enjoying that, slut?"

Alison had closed her eyes, trying hard to reconcile what she was feeling with her previous beliefs about how perverted anal sex was. She was surprised at how good it felt, how different it felt from a finger in her pussy. She shook her head, telling him she hated what he was doing, but her moans were turning into moans of pleasure, moans of lust and Peter knew exactly what those moans meant.

"I don't believe you, slut. I can tell exactly what you want and you're going to get it. I'm going to stretch your arsehole so wide you'll wonder if it will ever recover. I'm going to make you scream so loud the neighbours will think you're being murdered."

Having promised her an arse-fucking she would never forget, he startled her by withdrawing his finger. She almost felt bereft without it and looked back to see what he was going to do next. She soon found out.

Peter buried two fingers in her pussy this time and covered them in her juices, juices that were once more pouring from her. Alison knew that he was using two fingers now but still couldn't believe he was going to push them both up her arse. But he did. And when he did she was shocked once more to realise it didn't frighten her as much as she thought it would. In fact, if she was honest, she would admit it didn't hurt the way she had expected either. It felt really tight but really good too. She hoped he would push them deeper inside, pushing back, trying to encourage him.

Desperate to fuck her tight hole, he knew he had to take his time, knew that if he did this right she would be his anal whore from then on. He pushed, he probed, gently stretching her little by little, preparing her for something much bigger than his fingers. Reaching below her with his other hand, he began to tickle her swollen clit and, as she groaned in appreciation, he knew she wasn't far from cumming once again.

"Oh, God, yes!" she screamed. Do it, Peter! Fuck my arse with your fingers! O, God! I'm cumming. I'm cumming!"

Her tight hole clamped down, hard, on his fingers and her pussy went into spasm as, once again, her juices covered his other hand and poured down her thighs. Collapsing down onto the thick carpet, she lay there, totally spent. Peter knew now was the time.

He raised her hips and pushed a cushion beneath her then positioned his throbbing cock at the entrance to her virgin hole. He pressed against her and his head forced its way in. He had prepared her well and his own pre-cum lubricated his passage as he forced himself deeper and deeper into probably the tightest arse he had ever fucked. Watching his cock disappearing into that very hole he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

Alison had started to recover from her orgasm by now and she was very aware of just how deep he was in her dirtiest hole. She realised now she wanted him to fuck her, wanted him to fuck her tight hole, wanted him to stretch her, wanted him to make her scream, wanted him to make her cum. Again!

"Peter, do it! Fuck my arsehole. It feels so good. I want you to fill me with your cock. Fill me with your cum. Do it! Please do it!"

"Don't worry, slut. I'll do it. Your arse looks so hot swallowing my cock. You're so tight, so hot, you arse-fucking whore."

"Fuck my arsehole hard, Peter, please! Fuck it hard!" Alison yelled. She pushed her arse hard against him, surprising him. She couldn't help herself; it felt so good, so wrong, so unbelievably perverted, and so good. All she wanted now was his huge cock to fuck her, to cum in her. Every time he pushed into her, she pushed back at him.

Peter couldn't hold back any longer. He began ramming steadily into her tight hole, the heat surrounding his dick so intense, her hole squeezing him so tightly. He tried to hold off but it felt so fucking good, he just couldn't. Reaching underneath her again, he pulled her up, his hand resting on her hard clit. He felt it sliding on his hand, he felt her arsehole gripping his cock, and he could hold back no longer. He felt his balls tighten and a stream of thick, white cum poured deep into Alison's hole. Screaming in delight, he pumped in and out, filling her arse with his cum.

Alison screamed too, the feel of his cock cumming in her arse was just too intense. They both collapsed on to the floor, his cum pouring out of her ravaged hole while his cock softened quickly and slipped out. She didn't know it but tonight was just the first of many. Peter had lots of fantasies and he intended to fulfil every one and she was going to be the one who let him do it. She just had one more for this evening.

Climbing off her, he crawled round to her face and told her to clean his cock. She raised her head a little, looking round for some sort of cloth, before she suddenly realised what he meant.

"No, Peter. Please. Not that."

"Do I really have to spell it out to you, you stupid cunt? You never say no to me again. Now open your mouth."

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Alison took his soiled, dirty, soft cock into her mouth and began to lick it clean. It was more foul tasting than she could ever have imagined and she closed her eyes, too afraid that she might see just how dirty his cock was as she thought of where it had just been. It was her own body she was tasting but that was no comfort as it was not a part of her body that had ever given her any pleasure before tonight. .

Peter simply laughed at her, his plan complete, for tonight at least.

"Don't act like you're not loving every moment of this, you arse whore. You're getting off on being so depraved, aren't you?"

And she was. Alison was so humiliated that she had taken so much pleasure from everything he had forced her to do but he was even more shamed by the fact that he knew how much pleasure he had given me. It was the lowest she had ever been and the lowest she could ever be. Little did she know.

Once again, Peter saw no need to prolong her humiliation at that point and pulled his still soft but now clean cock from her slutty mouth.

"Get up whore. You've got five minutes to rejoin me in the party. There's a small bathroom in the corner you can use to wash your face and sort your make up. Five minutes and no more. If you're late, I'll come straight back in here and drag you out, no matter what state you are in. One more thing; I want you to stay for the rest of the evening and act as if nothing has happened."

With that he simply got dressed again, unlocked the door and returned to his guests.

Alison was in a panic as she scrambled round trying to find her underwear. Her thong was nowhere to be seen and, as she was running out of time, she decided she would have to return without it. Little did she know that Peter now carried it in his pocket, certain that it would make a memorable trophy to add to his collection.

Alison barely had time to clean all his cum off her face and reapply a small amount of make-up before her five minutes was up. She longed to take a long soak in a hot bath but she didn't even have time to bathe her ravaged pussy or arse. She rushed out of the door and ran along the corridor to rejoin the party. Wendy and some of the other wives gathered round her, wondering what had taken so long and why she looked so upset. She explained that she had had an argument with John on the phone in Peter's office and that she had been crying.

Wendy hugged her friend in support but a strange smell assaulted her nose. She stepped back from Alison, her face questioning, but Alison could only hang her head in shame at the realisation that Wendy had caught a whiff of the aroma of sex that she knew still covered her body. Her shame seemed to have a strange effect on her body, however, because it was just at that moment that Peter's cum began to leak from her pussy and arse. Without even her tiny thong to catch it, she could feel it trickling down her naked thighs and she knew her stocking tops were going to be stained with her husband's rival's spunk.

Would her humiliation never end?