Confess, You Bitch

The letter arrived out of the blue and when I opened it my heart ran cold. There in bold letters it said that my lovely wife was having an affair. It was signed simply, a friend.

I really couldn't believe it, we'd only been married three years, our sex life was good, at least I thought so, I was making good money, we had just about everything we wanted, so why would she play around. The letter suggested that next time I go away on business, I get some one to watch her.

That night as we sat there watching TV I kept stealing glances at her. Jane was 25 years old, pretty but not beautiful in a model sense, she had a full figure with long legs and large tits and always dressed pretty conservatively. She didn't drink but she did enjoy socialising and we had a good group of friends, or so I thought. The more I looked the worse it got until in the end I feigned a headache and went to bed.

As European Director I travelled a lot, two days here, three there, giving Jane time to enjoy herself at home. I earned enough money for her not to work and in all other ways she was a model wife. I was due in France in two days and all I could think of was will she fuck around while I'm away. In the end I decided to cancel the trip but not tell her.

Wednesday morning I kept up pretences and left for the airport as usual. "Bye Hon, see you on Friday," she said planting a big kiss on my cheek."

"Any plans while I'm away," I asked, "oh, usual thing, I'll probably have some friends over, go shopping, that sort of thing, go on or you'll be late for your flight." I drove a mile to the nearest hotel and checked in for one night.

All day I was on tender hooks, hoping for dear life that the letter was wrong. All sorts of things went through my mind; what would I do if I caught her, suppose it was more than one man, what if they were bigger than me, the more I thought about it the worse it became. By six o'clock I was a nervous wreck. I changed into a black polo neck, dark slacks and a leather jacket and slowly walked the mile back to my house. The lounge lights were on and the curtains drawn so I hid in the trees across the road.

Half an hour went by but nothing had happened. Was he already in there, had she gone out and left the lights on, I was thinking all sorts again. Rationality kicked in and the voice said, "maybe your wrong, she's probably sitting there, feet up watching TV." Yeah, of course she is, how could I have dou ... A car pulled up in front of the house. I vaguely recognised it. A tall man got out carrying a bottle and headed for my front door. Jane answered it and invited him in.

My hands were clammy and my heart was pumping like mad. What should I do? It took about 20 minutes before my muddled brain made a decision and I found myself making my way down the side of the house. The lounge is 30 feet lounge extending the whole length of the house. It has bay windows at one end and a patio door at the rear. Unfortunately, with 20mm double glazed reinforced glass there was no way I was going to smash my way in and it also deadened any sound coming from the occupants. I searched for a way to see in.

Looking through the tinniest gap in the curtains I could just make out her legs. She was obviously sitting on the sofa with her legs stretched out in front of her. Again I started to doubt, maybe it's just an old friend dropping by.

Then my heart stopped. A hand was making its way up Jane's leg. As it went higher, so did her dress exposing her sexy lace stocking tops. It was when she opened her legs wide that I nearly died, she was sitting there with no knickers on exposing her freshly shaved cunt to this man. I stood spellbound as his fingers worked on her pussy lips making them wet before finally sliding two fingers into her cunt and frigging her like mad.

I'd seen enough. At the grand old age of 40 I was in no shape to go barging in and challenging a complete stranger, beside, if it did end in a fight I didn't want my home smashed up. I had to think about this. As I left the garden I looked again at the car, I'm sure I'd seen it before but just couldn't place it. I went back to the hotel and spent a restless night trying to work things out in my mind.

It was four o'clock in the morning when I suddenly awoke with a start. I was fully dressed lying on top of the bed, I had remembered. The bloody car, it was John's, my fucking boss!

That morning, unshaven and bleary eyed, I kept watch on the house again and sure enough, 7:30 and the bastard is kissing her goodbye on the doorstep. "See you tonight then, same time," he said feeling her tits through her thin dressing gown. "John, somebody might see us," she giggled. John, all smiles, jumped in his car and drove away. I returned to the hotel, freshened up and checked out.

I've never been one for violence but sometimes there's just no choice. That night, as John walked up my driveway clutching his bottle of wine I stepped out in front him. "Hello John, come to shag my wife again?" Before he could reply I hit him hard, once in the guts followed by an uppercut to the chin. Mike Tyson would have been proud of the punch I finally threw. It caught him square on the jaw knocking him out. I dragged him to his car, opened the door and threw him in. He was groaning and coming round. "W-w-what happened," he spluttered, blood dripping onto his nice leather upholstery. "You got caught," I said looking down at him. "Oh, before I forget, you can stick your fucking job right up your arse and if I see you anywhere near my wife again I'll break your fucking neck, now piss off before I really get mad."

He didn't need telling twice and with blood pouring from his face he speed off down the road.

Now for the bitch.

As I walked towards the front door I found John's bottle of wine, still intact where he dropped it. Picking it up I went to the door and rang the bell. "Hold on John, let me get the chain off ... David, w-w-w-what are you doing here, I err, I thought you were in um France or something." I pushed past her into the hallway. She was wearing a see through blouse with no bra, a short mini which showed her stocking tops and a pair of platform high heels that made her look ten feet tall. She had fuck me written all over her. "Well, I see your expecting someone else, John maybe?"

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, please David, I didn't mean it, please you must believe me, please." She was in tears clutching at my lapels and begging forgiveness. Then she changed tack and pushed me away. "It's all your fault, if you hadn't left me alone so often none of this would have happened."

Isn't it funny how it's always your fault. You're the poor sucker that's been working his fucking guts out to provide a good life for them but suddenly that's not enough. I smacked her round the face and pushed her into the lounge. "How many times," I asked. She lay on the floor looking up at me through fearful eyes. "How many times what?" she asked. I took a step towards her, "don't play the fucking innocent with me girl, how many times has he fucked you."

"Please David, it was only once, a long time ago, I didn't know he was coming hear tonight, please, you must believe me." I grabbed he by the hair and yanked her up. "Do you think I'm stupid or something, I was watching last night, and you're not exactly dressed to go out are you?" I threw her to the ground again. Her short skirt was now round her waist exposing her stockings, suspenders and knickerless cunt. "And I suppose you keep that uncovered for health reasons. Right bitch, you're going to tell me everything, I want to know every time he visited you and what you did. And since when did you drink wine?"

"I don't, John used to drink it all himself."

That's when the first good idea of the night hit me. I poured a large glass of wine and handed it too her. "Drink," I demanded. "David, please, I can't, you know I don't drink alcohol."

"I grabbed her hair and turned her head upwards. Holding the glass to her lips I made her drink every damn drop. Then I refilled it and did it again. Eventually I just got the bottle and made her drink from that. Ten minutes later and two thirds was gone. She was spluttering and trying to fight me off as I forced it down her but that just served to make me madder. "Right slut, how many times has he fucked you?" The drink was taking effect and her speech was a little slurred. "Bout 20 times I 'spose."

"Go on, when was the first time, I want every detail."

"David, please don't make me do this, please." I just stared at her. "OK, I'll tell you. It was at Linda's party just after you got promotion and started travelling away, about three, four months ago. Someone must have slipped alcohol into my juice and next thing I knew I was upstairs with a man."

"What do you mean a man, what man?"

"I dunno, just a man. Then John came in and he fucked me too." How many men did you fuck that night? "Six, maybe seven, they just kept coming in and I couldn't stop them." Her nipples were poking through her thin blouse as she spoke and I suddenly realised that I was getting an enormous hard on. "So you got fucked by loads of men at Linda's party, then what?"

"That's when it all started. The next time you were away, John came round to the house. I told him no, but he said he only wanted to talk so I let him in. He kept telling me how sexy I was and threatened to tell you if I didn't let him ... You know, have me."

"Fuck sweetheart, the word you're looking for is FUCK." Neither of us swear, even when making love I have never used or heard Jane use foul language, but now it was shock tactic time, if she was going to act like a whore then I'd sure as hell treat her like one.

"He wouldn't go away, so I agreed to let him, have...fuck me so long as he went away afterwards."

"And did he?"

"No, he stayed the night and made me do things." Our sex life had been pretty good but Jane was not what you'd call adventurous. Blow jobs were things that whores did to their clients, not decent respectable people like us. She wouldn't even let me go down on her saying it was dirty, disgusting. No, it was just plain old fashioned sex with a few different positions thrown in for good measure. "What sort of things?" I asked, my boner now straining at my flies.

"He made me ...he err... he made me ...suck it." She looked at me waiting for a reaction. "He made me take his thingy in my mouth and suck it. Urgh, it was disgusting. Then he made me ... oh God, I can't, it was too terrible." She looked at me again. "Go on, every little detail."

"He, well he um, he came in my mouth!"

"And what did you do?"

"He said if I didn't swallow it he would tell you about the party." Well, that was a first, her first blow job and she was made to swallow. By now my cock was on sensory overload, I undid my flies and took it out. "Show me." She looked horrified, "show me how you suck cock and swallow cum." Before she could resist I grabbed her head and forced my cock into her mouth. God if felt good. Her mouth was red hot where she'd been crying and as she closed her lips round my shaft I was in heaven. I thought of her with John's cock in her pretty mouth and before long I was shooting spurt after spurt into her throat. I'd completely caught her off guard, and she was spluttering for breath as she tried in vain to swallow. Eventually I withdrew, making her lick the last drops from my dwindling prick.

I picked her up and sat her on the sofa next to me. "So, that's it is it? John's been fucking you ever since." She was quite and couldn't look at me. "That was it, wasn't it?" I asked again. Suddenly she grabbed the wine bottle and downed the last few drops. "There's more," she said looking straight at me. "John started bringing other men round." My heart sank. "He used to call me his whore and say they could do whatever they wanted to me. The first time, he made me dress like this and parade round in front of a man called Brian. He was really old and smelt awful. John made me stand in front of him while he ran his hands up my legs and played with my vagina,"

"cunt, it's called a cunt or pussy," I interjected. "He let him play with my ...c-c-c-cunt. I had to stand in front of him with my legs spread while he slid his finger into my, cunt, and tried to make me cum. John said I couldn't sit down until he heard me cum."

"Then he made me suck Brian's cock and swallow his cum. It was awful, it tasted fishy and there was gallons but he made me do it." She was near to tears again. "Then he let Brian suck my tits and fuck my mouth while he fucked me. They made me get on all fours. Then Brian fucked me while John made me lick his penis,"

"PRICK, for fucks sake, it's a fucking PRICK," I almost yelled at her. She recoiled but continued slowly. "His p-p-prick, he made me lick his prick. He said all little sluts liked the taste of pussy on a prick so I should get used to it."

"Then he brought another man, Sven, he was foreign. He was really big and he hurt me."

"What do you mean big, big what?"

"He had a really big, you know, prick."

"Well how big, 8, 9, 10 inches, how big?" She paused again and looked away. "Twelve inches."

"WHAT?"

"John made me measure it, it was exactly twelve inches and very thick. I pleaded with them not to make me but John said I had too. They tied me to the bed and John made a video of Sven making...fucking me with his big cock. It really hurt and I screamed a lot but eventually he got it all in and it wasn't so bad."

My mind was on overload with visions of Jane, dressed in black stockings and suspenders, tied spread eagled to the bed while some fucking giant of a Swede stuffed his oversized cock up her. My cock was also responding to this stimulus and was begging to go again. Just when I thought I'd heard everything she continued.

"The worse one was Peter," she went on, "he was a real pervert. He used to like spanking me and making me cry before he ...fucked me. One day he and John tied me up and Peter whipped me. He left those ugly red welts that you saw when you came home."

"You bitch, you told me they were rope burns from the gym."

"Anyway, after that they made me do something else." She went quite again. "Go on, what did they make you do?"

"Oh David, your going to hate me for this. John invited Sven and Peter at the same time. They made me sit on Sven's cock while Peter got behind and ..."

"My God, you mean he ..."

"Yes, he fucked me in the arse. God it hurt so much at first, I thought they would split me in two. Then John made me suck his prick while the other two fucked me. He said all women should be treated like this, three pricks at the same time, it showed them what they were really made for. John made a video of that session as well, do you want to see it?"

This was incredible, in the space of three months my boss had turned my shy loving wife into a wanton slut and the bastard had even filmed it. I leapt on her. Grabbing her tits roughly through the material of her blouse, I twisted them and pulled the nipples until I thought they would come off. "Is this how you like, huh, is this what you like you fucking cheap slut." I threw her face down on the sofa and yanked her skirt up round her back. Both smooth round arse cheeks were staring me in the face. I prised her butt hole open using my thumbs and spit into the hole. "So, you like it up the arse do you," I said, positioning my cock at her rear entrance. I pushed forward and too my amazement slid in easily. "How many times have you done this?" I asked, grabbing her hair and pulling her head up roughly. "Lots, even Sven fucks me like this now."

Visions were running through my mind at 100mph. A large Swede ramming his massive cock up my wife's arse. Peter whipping her while Brian, the old man forced his dirty smelly cock into her mouth. Jane, on all fours with a cock in each hole, relishing the experience as the men used her like a common slut. I imagined her tied spread eagled to the bed, dressed in her black stockings and high heels while a succession of men took turns at using her cunt, arse and mouth. Finally it got too much, I came and came until it hurt, filling Jane's over stretched arse hole with fiery hot spunk.

When I awoke the next morning she was sound asleep beside me, her pretty face beautiful and angelic in the early morning sun. I looked at her with joy in my heart and wondered how I could have such nasty dreams about the woman I love.