Adventures Of A Cuckmaster

Slowly I withdrew my slackening cock; Jane's knees were splayed out on the bed, her beautiful face relaxing slowly with the pure ecstasy of the moment. Her eyes were closed and her long black eyelashes rested on her cheeks, her mouth was slightly open, gulping air and her nipples were pert and erect. She looked so sweet and fulfilled. A slither of thick, white spunk, reminiscent of toothpaste squeezed from a tube, followed the withdrawal of my purple, throbbing bull-head as it emerged from Jane's perfectly pretty, little cunt.

My cock had punched her twat with the force of jackhammer. The bedhead had loudly banged against the wall and her exotic screams had driven me to greater and greater exertion. I could still feel the sting of her fingernails which had been gouged viciously into my tight arse cheeks as she felt my cock swell inside her and as my first cum shot drenched her cervix.

I stood at the foot of the bed and wiped the surplus cum from my cock using Jane's white, cotton knickers and watched her heavy breathing slowly subside. She opened her thighs submissively wider for me, her knees bent outwards so her red, heavily fucked pussy lips were totally exposed. Her magnificent womanhood now in full view, her slit stretching from her twitching clit, that had escaped from its hood to be pounded by my pubic bone, down to her pretty, little arse cheeks where they merging nicely so it was difficult to see where her cunt slit ended and the crack of her arse started. Lovely, lovely, lovely, I thought as I looked at the large wet patch on the bedsheets where she had emptied her pussy juices. I had just got exactly what I had wanted for such a long time. I had to admit to myself that Jane had the cutest split-arse I had ever seen, ten out of ten for that little beauty.

Jane shouted for her husband to come from the other bedroom.

"Malcolm, you can come in here now, Stuart's left a right filthy mess all over my fucking minge." It seemed so strange coming out of the mouth of this angelic-looking creature. She could be seen most days of the week passing in and out of the shops and not one soul would suspect the kind of thoughts that surrounded her when she was left alone with her deepest fantasies.

I had fucked her and cucked her husband in one go and oh boy had I enjoyed it. It was the pinnacle of my fucking career up to that date and the fact that Malcolm Saunders had been my best friend for a number of years, and was the most reluctant cuckold, made it even more enjoyable. Once I knew how he let his wife treat him, and walk all over him, I had come to lose all respect for him. He deserved to get his wife fucked as far as I was concerned. His cuckolding was my ultimate pleasure. I had just been a good inch-and-half further up his wife than he had ever been and fucked a part of her he could never hope to reach. He didn't have a little cock; it wasn't that, I just had the extra.

Malcolm was not a willing cuckold in the usual sense; he was the architect of his own misfortune. I have never had respect for men who need sex so bad that they actually grovel for it and let their wives blackmail them into anything. This man, who I worked with and considered an alright sort of guy, would get home from work and wait on his wife hand, foot and finger, buy her expensive clothes and other gifts he couldn't afford and continuously fawn over her with "Yes Dear, of course Dear, whatever you say Dear." And all in the hope, often the vain hope, that he might just get a shag out of her, but his desperation had long since turned her right off him. Time and again I told him to get some balls and fight back.

"If she won't fuck go and find some good pussy elsewhere." But he didn't possess the courage even for that, and then he told me she had said to him she wanted to fuck another man and that he did nothing for her, well surprise, surprise. She had told him she found him less than satisfying in bed and that she wanted a divorce unless he would accept the situation and let her fuck around. The one thing that got her good and wet between her thighs was her husband's humiliation it seemed.

"Yours is the only cock I have ever had and I want to try something else." She had told him when he had done her bidding all day and was expecting a fuck when they went to bed.

"You might as well know that I look at other men and wonder what they fuck like, do they have beautiful cocks and how big are they, how long can they fuck pussy without having to stop? I am a woman Malcolm, I am 38 now and I want to fuck for some handsome looking guy. If you want to have sex with me occasionally it must be on my terms. You might as well know it I fantasise endlessly about other men."

"I don't think I can bear the thought of another man having ... you know ... having sex with you." Malcolm had told her grimly.

"I am sorry but if the right guy comes along and he rings my bell he gets my pussy, I have turned down chance-after-chance in my time and at my age time is passing me by and I am not into self-denial any longer. Think about it Malcolm, if I don't fulfil my fantasies now I might regret it for the rest of my life, I need to know what other men fuck like."

"Is there someone else? Malcolm asked not wanting to hear the response.

"No, but I have one or two in mind that I would spread my legs for, if that is what you mean."

Any man worth his salt, any man who considered himself a man with a modicum of self respect would have kicked her right out of bed, out of the house and out of his life but not Malcolm.

Even as a young man, when at his best, he had never appealed much to women, couldn't pull cunt to save his life. When we went to nightclubs in our teens Malcolm got fuck all while the rest of us got cunt on a regular basis. He craved sex and was lucky to get Jane, I was best man at their wedding and could have fucked her as she walked down the aisle in that fantastic wedding dress but she was all Malcolm at that stage. The rest of us took bets on how long it would be before she got bored with him and which one of us would fuck her first.

I wonder what colour knickers she is wearing, I thought as she took up her place at the altar next to Malcolm, white satin ones probably, I bet the gusset fits and cradles her little cunt like a glove. She probably pulls them up so tight they mould right into her slit.

The thoughts we men have, if women only knew.

Well I wasn't going to be the one fucking her that night so I contented myself with the chief bridesmaid, she was only about 19 but she knew how to take a length of cock, she had a sweet little pussy and she knew how to hump dick with it.

Now it had become clear that Jane was seeing life passing her by and she wanted some fun and new experiences and if that meant spreading her legs good and wide, for the right man, so be it. As much as she dominated her husband that is what she had come to despise about him. She wanted to be submissive and Malcolm was not masterly enough. She wanted Mr. Hyde and she was saddled with Dr. Jekyll. For once it wasn't the size of his cock that mattered; it was the wimp using it.

As he told me all this I looked at him with undisguised contempt, little did he realise that it was his weakness that Jane had come to loath. She was gorgeous, very attractive, and if some spare cunt was on offer with a beautiful woman, my best friend's wife or not, I was up for it. If she had a cunt that needed fucking and, assuming I would fit the bill, I would give her a cocking she wouldn't forget.

I couldn't get her out of my mind. For the next few days I wanked remorselessly. I could close my eyes and see her in that white wedding dress, I pictured it around her waist, all gathered up, my hands on the elastic of her knickers, pulling them down along her smooth, white thighs, placing my hands on her knees to force her thighs open to expose and get at her vagina.

Then I would see in my minds-eye those lovely rounded knees of hers and how she continuously pulled on her skirt to cover them whenever I was sat opposite her on the occasions I called round for Malcolm before going for a game of golf. Jesus, I would have loved to have got one glimpse up to the top her thighs but she was cautious and careful not to let her thighs drift open and when crossing and uncrossing her legs it was quick and tightly done.

Jane could often be seen shopping in the village and I tried to cross her path before someone else got the goodies but it was a few weeks before I saw her and in the meantime Malcolm had told me that she had made it clear to him that the only way their marriage would survive was if he let another guy fuck her and then fulfil a long-time fantasy of hers to have him clean her pussy up after her lover had pumped his sludge up her. She wanted a cuckold for a husband and Malcolm was stupidly ready to comply, not for his own pleasure but to keep his wife happy.

By the time Malcolm told me this I had already seen Jane and didn't mince words with her. I reckoned if I didn't get in there fast someone else would. There were plenty of prowling cunt-hunters in the vacinity. I told her what Malcolm had said to me. I said I could provide plenty of thick syrup for Malcolm to clean up if that is what she wanted. I didn't need to tell her how beautiful she was, she already knew that.

"You are supposed to be his friend aren't you?" She said teasingly.

"You are supposed to be his wife." I countered.

"You have always had a bit of a glint in your eye, I'll say that for you.

"Oh, you've noticed that." I said.

"Yes, I noticed it on my wedding day; you gave me an eye-fucking in the church."

"I had the horn on watching you walk down the aisle." I said thinking had it been that obvious, was I really that transparent?

"Yes, and I know you shagged my chief bridesmaid you horny shit." She continued and we both laughed.

"While we are talking about that I have often wondered what colour knickers you wore under that dress."

"A very snug fitting white pair and a blue garter." Jane said with a sexy giggle.

"When?" I said looking into her phenomenal hazel eyes."

"When what?" she teased.

"Don't fuck me about Jane, I'm not Malcolm."

"I will fix it up this Sunday if you are free." She said. "But I want to cuckold him good."

"Oh don't worry, we will cuckold him alright, we will make sure he gets the full treatment."

"Do you still have your wedding dress Jane?"

"It's in the wardrobe."

"I want to fuck you with it on."

"Delicious, I never thought of that." She said, "I will get it out and see if it still fits."

"Make it fit." I said.

Her eyes left my gaze and roamed down over my stomach to my crotch, I saw her face, she had seen what she wanted to see."

"Sounds wonderful." Jane said giggling again. "Make sure you are free for Sunday afternoon."

Oh, I was going to be free alright. I am always free for a fuck and this was one fuck I was going to revel in. Like every red-blooded man I often fantasised about getting a thick, length of cock into some married pussy and, friend's wife or not, a standing cock has no conscience and, as long as Jane had an eager pussy, I wanted to shag the fucking thing for her. If Malcolm didn't like it then fuck him, he was having a bad day as far as I was concerned. I don't pass up good cunt, never have.

Lots of men are pussy predators, it's a fact of life and Jane's pussy would grace any male predators list of conquests. Her husband was not going to get in my way even if he was one of my best friends. So his wife gets thick-cocked by another man, he'll get over it.

I know what some of you are thinking. I am a bastard, a bastard who would take advantage of problems between man and wife for my own pleasure and gratification regardless of the hurt it might cause; even to fuck a friend's wife. So let me tell you, if that is what you are thinking you are right. If you have a beautiful wife and she wants a fuck there's always a bastard like me waiting in the wings to fuck her, someone will fuck it and it might as well be me, well that's my justification and it will have to do.

Lots of you guys reading this story will, without your knowledge, right now, be sharing your wife's pussy with some handsome bastard who is getting his length into your wife when you are not around and many of the married women reading this story will wish they were Jane right now and if they could get away with it they would jump at the chance.

It is a fact of life that women don't stop thinking about other men just because they have got married, in fact they get to thinking about them more and more as time goes by, why wouldn't they? Jane was doing just that, she's only human.

Women get bored at home all day, or have a wimp for a husband or fantasise about bigger cocks during those long hours sat alone while hubby is at work or working away from home days on end. They can't help it, they get to thinking, it goes around in their pretty little heads and their sweet, little cunts get wet, it's just a matter of time. The thought pops into her head when she least expects it. The shape and size of a gorgeous cock slips into her mind at the most unexpected times or in her dreams, a beautiful masculine cock, she drools over its length and thickness, its smooth shaft, the little slit that shoots its white, creamy load and the swollen, blue vein running along the back of its girth.

She can't get away from the erotic thoughts she believed she would never have. Somewhere in the neighbourhood there is always a bastard just like me who will spot the signs and she is halfway to getting the thing she knows she wants, a lovely, thick, length of cock up inside her sacred place she had promised to reserve for her husband and him alone. Now she is thinking fuck those vows for a monkey's uncle.

It was left to me to tell my friend I was to be the one to fuck his wife. He went deathly white. He stuttered and stammered some garbled rubbish about me having been his best man at his wedding. That wasn't going to save him or cut any ice with me.

"Your wife is good and ready to copulate; it's a stage she has reached in her life that she has to deal with, you know, she has to get it out of her system. If you can't accept it, it will destroy you, live with it, she has promised to open her thighs for me Malcolm and it is going to happen on Sunday afternoon whether you like it not. Come on mate, it's only a fuck, that's all, just think of it as an extension of kissing with more passion, it's no big deal. Sorry and all that mate but cunt is cunt and all is fair in love and war. You are up against nature's instinct to propagate here old friend, don't get in the way."

Malcolm muttered something inaudible. I reached between my thighs and rubbed my hard cock through my trousers and said "See you Sunday at your place."

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Malcolm slinked into the room looking gutted. He had just been in the next bedroom listening to his wife squealing at the top of her voice while she took one hard cock length after another pushing her pussy lips all over the place. He must have heard the bedhead banging against the wall, the creaking of the bed and Jane's cries for more.

"Oh Stuart, Stuart." Why do women scream the name of the man stonking them? Men never do that.

Jane looked at Malcolm as he slinked into the room and snarled "come over here sweetheart and clean my fucking cunt up, your best man has just left his filthy mess all over it and it is trickling onto the cheeks on my arse."

Malcolm looked fleetingly at me before kneeling between his wife's thighs and gingerly, reluctantly, with just the tip of his tongue he licked his wife's floppy piss petals that had been dragged back and forth, only minutes before, by the rugged hardness of my shaft.

The thought of licking another man's gunge caused him to gip. For a moment I thought he was going to be sick, Jane threw the folds of her wedding dress over his head.

"Come on, lick hard I'm told it is an acquired taste." Jane said, grabbing her husband's head through her dress and pulling his face into her sticky minge, squashing his mouth into her engorged cunt lips. Jesus, she loved it.

I have fucked other men's wives a plenty but always without them knowing, never like this, and watching Malcolm being made to lap up my sludge, that only minutes before had flushed into my cock-pipe with such exotic, tingling fury, was rapidly getting me hard again. My cock was straining itself into a steel-like rod, it was pointing upwards towards my navel, its normal erect posture, and my bull-head had pushed its way through my foreskin. The slit at the tip of my cock had opened again in preparation to eject another build-up of creamy spunk with its cargo of rich, darting, virile spermatozoa.

What a wimp, I thought as I stood behind Malcolm watching while he did as he was told by his dominant wife who I had just fucked and who had been so submissive to me like a good, little girl should.

I stepped forward and placed my hand up Jane's dress and onto Malcolm's head and forced it forward, grinding his face into Jane's crotch.

Jane was fucking her husband's face and she was asking him how he liked the taste of my jizz.

"Come on Jane." I said, "Squirt into his mouth, give him a cocktail of male and female cum to drink."

My words had the desired affect and Jane's body started to spasm into orgasm while she was forcing her husband's head right into her pretty, little snatch.

Once his wife's orgasm was complete Malcolm came up for air, his chin dripping a rich mixture of two white, gooey fluids. I pushed him out of the way, I was getting ready to fire off another wicked load and her cunt was where I wanted to put it. Her wedding dress was pushed up level with her breast and I sank my cock into her like a proper cuckmaster, the Alpha male she ached for.

"Come on Bitch," I said, "Fuck for England." And she did.

I fucked her in front of her husband. I spread her knees with my knees and made sure that her wimp of an husband could see the cheeks of my hairy arse as I deliberately clenched and unclenched them, squeezing the crack of my arse tightly together with each slow, masterly inward thrust. With my thighs open I knew Malcolm would be able to see my bollocks hitting and squashing against Jane's soft, peachy arse.

I exaggerated my body spasms and my wild grunts as the sensitive nerves in my cock-pipe filled up and I transferred my thoughts to the soft inside of Jane's pussy to enjoy the thrill of giving her another spunking just as she shot three hot, cunt squirts onto my balls and onto the bed-sheets. Malcolm's wife got her second free helping of spermatozoa.

I pulled my cock from her battered twat and said to my friend, "That's the horny bitch well fucked for once in her life. You've got a wife there that loves good cock Malcolm and she's got a beautiful spit-arse mate." I couldn't help telling him.

Was I ashamed of myself? No I fucking wasn't. The feel of my cock inside another man's wife is what I live for. Many men, and for that matter women too, know the enhanced thrill associated with a good cheating fuck. They will sneak around clandestinely, behind hubby's back for years.

They will fuck more rampantly with the thrill of illicit sex than with the lost fervour of sex with their husbands. They will tell their friends that the lover fucks better than their husband while they swear to the spouse that they would never dream of sex with another man - but they would– it's the thrill of it all. Believe me; if he is sexy enough and ticks all the right boxes for her, she is going to fuck. Many women secretly love the thought of their pussies being full of another man's cum either with or without their husband's knowledge, it's a rich fantasy. Whoever you are, if you think your wife hasn't drooled over another sexy man, think again, and if she hasn't gone ahead and had an illegitimate fuck it's only a matter of the right time, the right place and the right guy.