Cuck-Bitch Chauffeur

Robert said, "John, you're our guest, you can sit up front", as we walked through the parking deck of short-term airport parking towards a silver minivan.

"Actually, Bob, as your guest, I was thinking I would sit in the back with Anne so that we could catch up on old times." I said, using the nickname that I knew he didn't much like.

Being this big a prick didn't come easily to me, but, I had to admit, it was kind of fun. Anne and I had dated about 20 years before, and we had that rare kind of relationship in which we kept in touch only occasionally but still fell easily into conversation about virtually anything. In many ways we had made a good couple. Our problem wasn't that we didn't have things in common, and it certainly wasn't lack of sexual chemistry, which we had in droves. Instead, if anything, it was that we were too alike. Two headstrong people are bound not too last. There is something to be said for the old saying "opposites attract." We had the good sense to break it off before it blew up and ended badly.

Anyhow, Anne and I had recently had occasion to talk in order to discuss whether the other was planning on attending our upcoming class reunion. I knew Anne's "down in the dumps" voice, as rare as it made an appearance, and asked what was bothering her. She told me that she was having a case of the blahs. Her life was feeling dull, and her relationship with her husband of 15 years had lost its spark. In general, she said it felt a little like she was trapped in her own personal version of the movie "Groundhog Day." With respect to her marriage, she said she loved her husband, but sex was becoming rarer and was ever predictable and dispassionate. She wondered if he was thinking of straying, she was thinking of straying, and it was just an all around bad scene. I knew she wouldn't cheat. It wasn't her style, but she might walk out on him. She did say that her one breakthrough was that she had gotten Robert to admit that his most common fantasy was watching her get fucked by another man or men, but she wasn't sure how that information helped her build her relationship with her husband. I asked if she knew what got him off with respect to that fantasy, as there are a few permutations of the "other men having sex with my wife" fantasy. She said she thought she did.

I continued to pepper her with questions, asking if she wanted to stick with the marriage. She said yes. She had many good reasons to stay with him, but one not to. That one, that she felt there was no passion, was enough to make her miserable though. I asked about whether she had considered spicing things up a bit. She said yes, but she wasn't sure how to proceed. I won't go on about our conversations, suffice it to say the unfolding of events will tell the tale for itself.

I opened the big sliding door on the side of the minivan after Robert popped the locks, and I held a hand palm up in a gentlemanly manner to assist Anne into the vehicle. I then got into the van right behind her and slid the door shut hard. Robert loaded my bag in the back and then walked around to the other side, and got into the driver's seat. Anne and I sat side-by-side in the forward most bench seat. We sat right behind the space between the driver's and front passenger's seats. There was room for three on the seat, but we sat close enough together that if the third person had been a sumo wrestler, he would still have fit handily. This was going to be the most fun I'd ever had helping out a friend in need. It sure as hell beat moving a couch or painting a bedroom.

Anne remained an extremely attractive woman despite two decades of the passage of time. It wouldn't be true to say she hadn't changed a bit in twenty years, but it was fair to say that she had aged well. She still had tawny brown hair, but it was much shorter these days and she had lighter, almost blond, highlights put in that accentuated her cute facial features. She had become more buxom, but carried it oh so well. It would require no acting skill to show some enthusiasm for having my way with her.

As Robert drove down the access roads from the airport that would lead us onto the Interstate, I took Anne's face between my hands and pulled her in close for a kiss. Her hair was soft and silky along the backs of my hands, and her fragrant scent aroused me. We made no attempt to disguise the moist and occasionally slightly smacking noises of our open-mouthed kisses, and, in fact, Anne let out a few low moans as she exhaled sighs.

Still, with the road noise and the intense concentration needed to get in the correct lanes, it took a while for Robert to notice what was going on behind him. It hadn't occurred to me that we were taking our lives into our own hands because Robert might just get distracted and crash, until I felt a severe lurching swerve as we accelerated down the ramp onto the highway. Robert recovered control of the vehicle.

"What the hell?" I said, genuinely concerned that we were about to crash.

"Sorry about that. My mistake." Robert said. He didn't give the slightest indication that he was enraged.

Now I, like most men - I suspect, would presumably be pulling the car over onto the shoulder about now with the intention of leaping behind me and beating the living hell out of the man making out with my wife. However, tellingly, Robert was apologizing for his bad driving.

He wasn't a small guy, though he was skinny, but tall. Lanky, I guess, is how one would describe him. However, he had a bit of a Droopy-Dog demeanor that made it hard to take the guy too seriously as a threat. It had occurred to me that Anne might have misunderstood her husband's motivations or that he might change his mind when faced with real world events. Either one of these eventualities could result in me having a fight on my hands. Yet I wasn't terribly worried. While shorter, I was much more muscular than Robert, but, far more important than that, the guy just didn't come across as having a lot of lead in his pencil - in any sense of that phrase. He was smart, made a good living in a technical field, and was likeable enough, but among his favored attributes was not the eye of the tiger, so to speak.

Because of Robert's lack of vigor and a creeping mischievousness born of thrill, I decided to press forward full-speed. "Dude, I'm trying to make out with your wife back here, and it kind of harshes the mood when you're driving off the road. One of us could have chipped a tooth back there. Try to be more careful."

"Yes, sir." Robert said.

Oh, this guy was all in. Not to be out-played by Robert, I upped the ante. Turning to Anne, I said: "It looks like your tits have gotten yet bigger and more luscious, let me have a look."

As Robert tooled down the highway in the direction of their home, I was considering how effective the factory tinting was on the windows of the minivan. I figured that it was unlikely anyone could make out any detail, but passing vehicles might make out silhouettes. We were in a smallish to medium-sized middle-American city, it was not beyond the possibility that someone would recognize Robert's car. I imagined the conversation. "Gee, Robert, I thought I saw your car on the Interstate yesterday, but there was a couple making out in the back." I further imagined Robert saying: "Oh, yeah, that was my wife. Her old boyfriend was back in town."

These thoughtful concerns lasted precisely until, having pulled her tank-top off over her head, Anne reached around and sprung her sweet d-cup orbs from their enclosure. After that, my thought was simply "wow... sweet boobies." I leaned Anne back and half lay over her as I popped one of her nipples into my mouth and, again expressing no concern for the noises generated, began to suck on one tit as I caressed the other.

"Oh, yeah, suck it. Don't stop. You make my titties tingle." Anne said.

"I think it's about time for you to suck something. It's been a long time since you wrapped those pretty lips around my meat." I said.

"Ohh. I'm ready for your cock. I need a big hard dick to fill my mouth. Your cum used to taste so good." Anne continued the dirty talk.

"Get down on your knees and I'll feed you some, right now." I replied.

Anne unbuckled and kneeled down on the floor-board immediately behind and between the two front seats. I had noticed Robert adjust the rearview mirror, presumably so he could watch his wife give me head, rather than to see the traffic behind us. I worried that he'd crash while I was getting blown and my guy would be decapitated, but there was no way I was going to slow down now. I was too horny for rational calculus of risk at this point. Anne, too, was noticeably on fire with passion as she struggled to get my engorged cock free from its denim and cotton boxer trap.

As soon as she wrestled my cock free, she immediately dipped down and took half of my unit eagerly into her mouth. I ran my fingers into her hair as her head began to bob, and I laid my head back against the back of the seat and let myself give in to the extreme pleasure of the moment. In between light moans and "oh-yeahs" I spoke up so Robert could hear over the road noise, and, possibly, over the slurpy noise of his wife's salivating mouth on my hardened member. "God, Bob, your wife gives such good head. I'd almost forgotten how heavenly her mouth feels on my dick." My head lolled from side-to-side banging gently against the side of one of the soft headrests.

Robert hit the brakes and swerved a little. Apparently, he had been watching the show and come up too fast on traffic. To my great fortune the action resulted in Anne's mouth being separated from my member instead of causing her to bite down on it.

"Bitch, keep your eyes on the fucking road! You are about pissing me off here." I said, genuinely mad. Then I changed my tack. "Look, I plan to plow your wife all weekend long. If you can get us there alive, you can sit on the foot of the bed and watch and jack your prick all you want. Hell, you can even make a video to spank your little pud to later, but just don't get us killed in the mean time."

"Sorry, sir. I'll pay more attention." Robert said.

Anne suppressed a giggle as she gave my cock a vigorous stroke, and her lips formed a mischievous grin. She was getting as turned on as I by this whole undertaking. While he wasn't getting any, I expected Robert might have been the horniest of us all.

Anne returned to sucking me off. I stroked her hair, and then, as my arousal climbed, I began to cinch the locks into my fingers a little as I got really amped and my urge to get a little rough with her skyrocketed. I remembered Anne liking it rough (it was probably why her recent milquetoast sex life so depressed her), and she responded with moans of pleasure as I pushed her mouth down onto my cock forcing her to gag on it's full length.

"I've got a nice load for you sweetie." I said as I shot several spasms worth of thick white cream onto her tongue and then drizzled the last of it onto her chin.

"Oh, your cum tastes so good. I love it when you make me feel like a dirty little whore." She said as she used the back of her hand to wipe the cum off her chin, but instead it just smeared. She was transformed from the woman who had picked me up at the airport. When we had met at baggage claim she had been pristinely made up. Now her hair was disheveled, her lipstick was smudged, and she had a little mascara run from the eye watering that accompanied her cock gagging experience.

"Bob, you've got one hell of a great little cocksucker here." I said.

"Yes sir."

Then, to Anne, I said. "I want a taste of you now. Lay back." Anne did as she was told and laid down on her back on the bench seat that I had now vacated to kneel beside. I removed her panties from under her skirt, and I tossed them up onto the dash so Robert would know where we were in the process. I canted her sideways slightly and hooked her leg over my shoulder as I flipped her skirt up. I then dug in. As I licked up her slit from her perineum toward her clit I was greeted with a flood of her tasty juices. I went to work sucking and licking her clit, and then, occasionally, running my tongue around and into her pussy-hole.

Shortly, Anne was moaning and beginning to talk dirty in a way that most husbands would have found highly offensive. "Oh, god, you know how to suck pussy so well. I wish Bob could do that. Could you teach my hubby how to eat pussy like a real man?" She said through labored breathing and moans as she ran fingers over my head in random motions. If Robert had any objection, he did not voice it.

"If need be." I said breaking my oral ministrations for only a moment. I returned to pussy licking, and was bringing Anne ever closer to her first orgasm of our reunion. The next time I looked up, we were off the Interstate and were on secondary streets, presumably getting close to Anne and Robert's home. Before I went back down, I enjoyed the sight of Anne self-massaging her tits with one in each hand and index fingers and thumbs pincering her hardened nipples. As her hips started to arch and then bounce spastically on the seat in a quaking orgasm, we were apparently pulling into their garage.

When Anne's quaking came to a close, I opened the sliding door. I took her cradled in my arms, still topless, and then spoke to Robert. "Bob, please bring in my bag, I've got to get this girl to the bedroom while she's still wet and ready for the fucking." Then I walked off carrying his wife to the bedroom to continue what we had started.