Cuckquean - Ellen, the Honest

More laughter as that horrible door slowly opened, allowing HER entry into my domain.

She was clinging to his side as they entered, smiling, draped all over him, like the slut that she most certainly was.

His appearance screamed infidelity: tousled hair, lip-stick stained lips swollen from use, tie slipped down below the second button, collar opened, makeup stained beside the telling bruise on his neck.

Her eyes glowed with mischief. She kissed my husband on the cheek, her long legs striding my way, slinky dress shifting with each step, barely able to keep her decent. Decent in the conventional way, obviously there was nothing decent about her. She was braless, that much was evident. I wondered if she'd started that way. If my husband already had a trophy.

She was tall, over six foot in her ridiculous heels. Her hair was long and flowing, bouncing like a fucking commercial with each step. Those tits jiggled away, a teasing reminder of what they'd most certainly been up to.

I felt my panties moistening. The third pair that day.

She stood over me, only inches away, her back to my husband. Her smile was cold, cruel, and heartless. Her eyes told me more than any words could. She despised me. I wasn't worthy. How did she know?

"Ellen," her sultry voice masked the malice with which she spoke my name. "Steven has told me SO much about you." She leaned over and kissed me on the mouth, her breath boozy, her lipstick sticky, obviously recently applied. In the car of course, I'm sure he wore it off of her. Bastard!

"This is Karen," my husband said, suddenly before me, his arm around her waist. "I know her through work."

"A pleasure to meet you," I said, still able to feign politeness.

"I wonder," she giggled.

I felt myself flushing, and when she reached up and squeezed my tit, I almost collapsed. I stepped back, nervously. She wasn't supposed to be like this. I was letting her have my husband. She should be kind to me, appreciative. "I have a bottle of Cabernet breathing."

"That sounds wonderful," Steven said, smiling.

"Bring it to the bedroom, dear?" The bitch took my husband by the hand, and he followed along eagerly. Not very subtle.

I put the decanter and three glasses on the tray, before following them. By the time I got to the room they were in a hot embrace. She looked at me, while kissing him, then glanced at the tray. "We only need two glasses. Take one back."

No please, no thank you. Who was she to tell me what to do? And why wasn't my husband standing up for me? I put the tray down, and grabbed the glass, marching it back to the kitchen. When I returned, Steven was naked on the bed, fully erect, and she was standing in front of him, removing her dress.

"Be a dear and unzip me, Ellen?" she said, glancing over her shoulder at me.

How long had she waited to shame me like that? I stepped forward and pulled the zipper down. The dress slid down her body, and it was my greatest fear, and yes, hope. She was perfect. I guessed her age at early thirties, but that body was that of a twenty-five year old. Slender waist, smooth, immaculate skin. One of those asses that looked even better bare than in a pair of jeans. Hell, I'd never had an ass like that.

She straddled my husband, and immediately, no foreplay, no prelude, she was sliding down on his cock. She breathed the most beautiful sigh as she accepted him, then kissed him lightly. "Pour us the wine, dear?"

My hands trembled as I filled each glass two-thirds full. I carried them over, and they stopped kissing long enough to accept them. She grabbed my hand, when I passed her hers. Her grip was tight, almost painful. "I should thank you now for giving me your husband. You are too kind. I promise I'll treat him like he deserves." She was rotating her hips, emphasizing what she was doing. "Go get a chair. You can sit right there," she said with a nod to the space beside the bed. "I wouldn't want you to miss anything. This is what you want, isn't it?"

Was it? Was I that much a fool? Did I want that bitch to sink her claws into my husband?

She squeezed my hand, her eyes hard. "Tell me this is what you want. You want your husband to make love to me. To drive me crazy. To pound me with his wonderful cock. Tell me, no, tell HIM. Tell him to fuck me."

I couldn't. Looking into his eyes, seeing the passion already burning, I knew this was a mistake. I was a fool. My body was burning, but I knew that if I allowed this to happen, I was doomed.

"Tell him, dear. Tell him, or I leave now, and he'll never touch another woman again."

God, how did she know how to drive the knife home and twist it in my gut? I raised my eyes to Steven's, and the teasing smirk on his face told me I was lost, no matter what I did. "Please," I whimpered.

I stood, fully clothed next to their coupling bodies, shaking. I could barely breathe.

"Please, what?" she insisted, allowing me no quarter.

"Please, be with her," I managed.

"'Be with her'? Is that what you want? No, tell him. Tell him now. Tell him what he has to do."

I could feel the tears starting. I couldn't let him see. I lowered my head, "Make love to her."

She laughed. "Silly wifey. He's not going to make love to me. Love is for the little woman, when there's no passion, when there's nothing left but a banal comfort and acceptance. Love is for the ball and chain. He's going to fuck me, and I'm going to fuck him. That's what you want, even if you're too much a coward to admit it."

She was wrong. Making love was MORE than passion. Far more. I'd been wrong to ask him to do that. And I was no coward. I'd put my marriage on the line for that; exposed my soul. "Fuck the slut," I snapped. "Show her. Show her what I get all the time. Fuck her senseless."

Ellen's eyes opened wide, and she laughed. She yanked me forward, making me stumble. And then she was kissing me, her mouth open, her tongue invading, hot and wet. She grabbed me by the hair, and forced my head downward, to her breast. She was riding my husband's cock, and she wanted me to suck her tit. She pressed my head firmly against her breast until I opened my mouth, sucking.

"God, this is going to be fun. Maybe you're not a coward. I like a little spunk." She abruptly pushed me away hard. I stumbled, falling to the ground. "Strip naked and go get that chair," she demanded.

I scrambled to my feet, looking at my husband, waiting hopelessly for him to come to my salvation. When he ignored me for her kiss, I retrieved a dining room chair, and dragged it to our room.

He was on his back, moaning, while she rode him. No! He was supposed to be fucking her! Pounding into her, making her squeal. Not like this.

She looked at me, moving sinuously atop him, the sound of their joining wet and cruel. She stared at me, until I finished undressing and sat in the chair.

She shrieked, laughing, as Steven turned the tables on her, moving her underneath him, hammering her with an intensity that frightened me. My pussy was weeping, and I fingered myself, holding my tit, caressing the rubbery nipple.

She was encouraging him, long smooth legs wrapped around him, ankles locking behind his back. My stubby legs couldn't do that. I'd tried. She made it look easy. It had only been a couple of minutes but he was groaning, and she praised him, begged him for his come. That's right, bitch. Beg. Because once you're gone, he's mine again. All mine.

He grunted and jerked, his hips twitching as he filled her. Inside her. No condom, no protection, his seed filling her. Hot, burning...

I shuddered as I came, my hand a blur, my clit on fire.

"Look at her, honey. Look at the poor thing," the bitch laughed. I looked up to see my husband's eyes on me, laughing. Laughing at my pitiful need.

He pulled out, and she hopped off the bed, pulling me forward, making me cry out as she forced me to my knees. "Wait there," she hissed.

She pulled my husband over by the hand. His cock was semi-soft, the evidence of their mating devastating. I moaned when I saw it. "She wants to know, she needs to. Tell her how good that was. What a new, tight pussy felt like."

He blushed, and I could see it was difficult for him. "Amazing," he said. "Incredible. So hot, wet, and tight."

"You want more don't you, handsome?" she asked.

"Much more." Two more body blows, making me gasp, my nipples aching.

"Me too." She tugged him forward, his cock inches from my face, glistening with her juices. "Suck him, Wifey. Suck him back to hardness so he can fuck me some more. Suck him good, or I'll punish you."

Punish me? Worse than she already was? I opened my mouth, gagging when I tasted her on him. She grabbed my hair and forced me forward, pressing my nose into his belly. She yanked my head back and forth, bringing tears to my eyes. The bastard was getting hard, filling my mouth.

I hated that bitch. I yanked my head free, glaring at her. "I know how to suck my husband," I snapped, and took him back in my mouth, looking up at him, reminding him of the thousands of times I'd done that for him. Making him recall. I was his wife. Me. I allowed him to do this.

He smiled, and my heart opened once again. He did remember! He stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers, and I blew him. Yes, she might be young and beautiful, but he was mine, and I knew him. It only took a few minutes to have him standing tall again.

He stepped back, and the bitch took his place in front of me. She couldn't want me to...

She grinned, and pulled me to my feet. "I guess you're not totally worthless. That was impressive."

I smiled, knowing she was right. He loved my blowjobs. She hugged me, and when she kissed me, I didn't resist. That wasn't enough for her, and she kept going, touching me, reaching between my legs, teasing me. I responded, hunched over her hand, returning her evil kiss, shaking, gasping until I came on her fingers. She backed off, and placed her fingers at my mouth. I opened my lips and sucked them, humiliated. She had made my husband come, and now me.

"Good girl. You can watch now, but keep quiet." She kissed me softly, then deposited me in my seat with a gentle push. She turned and kissed Steven. Long and deep. She climbed on the bed, on all fours, and wiggled her butt. "I'm empty, lover. Fill me up."

He did, endlessly. My heart soared to see him take control. He fucked her, used her. Moved her around however he wanted, pounding into her. She was squirming and moaning, and when she came it was explosive. Yes!

His skin was glistening. I wanted to leap on the bed and hold him. Hug him, kiss him, lick the sweat off of his body. He was powerful, unrelenting. He hammered her pussy; she'd no longer be tight when he was done. He tossed her around, fucking her however he wanted, wresting another orgasm from her. That was my man, doing what he did so well. I saw the change, rubbing my poor sore pussy, unable to think of anything but his cock swelling, penetrating her, about to explode. He cried out, driving her into the mattress, his face screwed up in wicked agony as he finished, pumping desperately into the slut.

He pulled out of her, turning toward me. For a moment I had hope. He was coming for me. He would love me now. Instead he laid on his back beside HER. His chest heaving from exertion.

She sat up smiling, her hair a mess. She looked over at me, and crooked her finger, beckoning. Helpless, I went over and climbed on the bed. She pointed at his cock. "Again. However long it takes. I'm getting another."

Steve watched me, and I climbed between his legs. He was a mess, but no worse than the last time. I glanced over at my nemesis, and she nodded.

I knew I had my work cut out for me, but this was what I wanted, right? I started slowly, the taste both disgusting and exciting. I cleaned him, thoroughly and started pleasing him. I hadn't been at it long when I felt a swat against my ample ass. "Dear, fetch us our wine glasses."

One last suck, then I climbed off the bed. One of the glasses was on the floor, having made a mess. It would be a pain cleaning that, if it even came out. I took the glass, rinsed it in the bathroom, and refilled both. I gave them each one, and returned to my duty.

They chattered, and kissed. I wasn't paying much attention, my focus on my husband's needs. He was thickening, but I knew a third one would take time. All the effort in the world couldn't outweigh nature. So I did what I had to, gently encouraging, suckling, caressing his hips and thighs. It was quiet, and I looked up, they were both watching me.

"The little slut loves you, doesn't she?" Karen said.

"She does."

"Do you love her?"

He turned and glared at her. "Totally and without reservation. More than anything."

My heart soared, and I rewarded him, the only way I could, gagging on him, sucking him into my throat, working feverishly to get him hard.

"And me?" she whispered, teasingly, loud enough for me to hear.

"You're sexy and beautiful, and an amazing fuck," he said, grinning.

But it wasn't love. His love was mine. That was what mattered. I had done it. I had given him what he deserved, but he was still mine. He was mostly hard, firm, and thick. I climbed up the bed, intervening.

"You are almost ready. Let her finish preparing you. Feel her warm mouth. Thicken, harden, then fuck her. Fuck her hard. Show her. Show her how you can be. The best. You're the best. Now show her. Use her, enjoy her, fuck her senseless. You deserve no less."

I was proud of myself. I expected an angry retort from the slut, but she was smiling as my husband pulled me upward and kissed me. "Is that what you want. Still?"

I nodded shamefully.

"Would you prepare her for me?" he asked carefully.

"Prepare her?"

"She's a mess down there. Clean her. For me."

My stomach turned at the idea. It was wrong. Not just that it was a woman, but I was his! How could he even ask?

"Ellen," he said, and I looked up into his eyes. "Do it. For me. Clean her thoroughly. Prepare her, then watch me destroy her."

My hands flew between my legs, cupping my pussy. Destroy her. Use her totally, without care or concern. I whimpered trembling.

"Lick her clean, and watch me drive her crazy. I'll fuck her senseless. I'll fill that slutty cunt again, and when you've finished taking care of us, it will be just you and me."

I groaned, feeling the waves coursing through my body, the flash of heat starting between my legs, threatening to consume me. I looked down and she was sucking him. He was hard, completely, and she was sucking him. But I knew. He was hard for me, at the thought of doing that for him. She was on her hands and knees turned sideways. She was ready for me.

I looked up into his eyes and nodded. He smiled, and as I climbed over his body to get to her, he slapped my ass hard, the retort echoing in the room. The stinging was invigorating, precious.

She was a mess, as he'd said. I braced myself. It's no different, I told myself. No different than doing it for him. The same juices. I leaned forward and the smell hit me. God, how could he ask me to do this? But it's what he needed. I crossed that last inch, tongue protruding, and I licked her.

She moaned.

She moaned. One lick. That's what I did to her. He had to hear that. I licked her again, and again more forcefully. Sucked her protruding lips, searching out any evidence of their coupling. She pushed back against my face, and I licked and sucked with complete abandon. I would help him. We would use her. The both of us. I would show her. I sat up and grabbed her hips, pulling her sideways, making her squeal. I put her on her back and buried my face between her legs, making her moan for me, clutching my head, writhing.

When she came for me, I almost screamed with pleasure. Me. I did that. I did it for him. I brought her to the precipice, and backed down forcing her to groan in frustration. I teased her, tortured her, made her plead for more.

"Enough."

I looked up and Steven's cock was beside me. I pressed a pair of fingers inside her, my thumb keeping her clit agitated, and I sucked my man's cock. He didn't need it. He was hard. This was beyond need. It was what he wanted and I couldn't deny him. I gagged myself, taking him deeper than I'd ever dared, my eyes watering. I pulled away gasping, only to have him grab my head, and thrust his way back in, all the way, choking me, using me. That was it. Using me, like he was about to use her. He pulled out, leaving me gasping again, desperate to breathe. He pushed me out of the way, flipped her over onto her belly, and took her.

I retreated to my chair, excited beyond imagination. I watched him pound into her, driving the breath from her. She groaned, as he claimed her, used her, as he had used me.

I got up and grabbed his wine glass, refilling it. I sat back in my chair, one hand busy keeping myself on edge, enjoying watching my fantasy. I was torn, feeling the jealousy, the shame, the humiliation. The things I'd done were vile, horrible, perverse. And there he was, lost in the moment, a fucking machine, loosed on the unsuspecting slut. This was what I wanted to see, what I needed. The raw man claiming what was his by right. What he deserved. That woman. Any woman. He could fuck anything that he desired, and in the end, he was mine.

She was moaning, her body trembling in the aftershocks of another orgasm. I could sympathize. I remembered those days of unbridled passion, driving him to lose control.

I finished my wine, and stood beside them. She looked at me, her eyes unfocused, her body quivering, bouncing with each thrust. I sat on the edge of the bed, caressing her hair.

"Poor little slut. Did you think you were a match for my man?" I leaned down held her face in my hands, and kissed her. I drove my tongue into her mouth, echoed my lover's thrusts. She gasped, and I retrieved my tongue before she could bite it off, in the throes of her pleasure. I ran my hands over my Steven, across his strong muscles, feeling them tense, down his back across his bouncing ass. I reached between his legs, fondling his balls, touching him where he entered her. Incredible, and he was mine.

I kissed him, and he drove his cock into her fully, pausing to return my kiss. "You are so incredible. I had to see it. See it from the outside. See what it's like to be taken by you. I had to, honey. Forgive me?"

He laughed, and pulled out of her. "I love you. Now tend us both, and go sit back down."

I blushed, but did as he asked, stretching out between her legs, and licking her, until he nudged my face with his cock. I alternated between the two until he sent me away.

I refilled my cup, watching, waiting for him to finish, so I could give him what he needed again.

- ( . Y . ) -

She stayed the night. He took her again in the wee hours, and woke me to tend to them both. In the morning, I was sent to prepare breakfast, while he used her. That ate me up, inflaming my insecurity. They came out looking exhausted but happy. She was sitting gingerly, dressed in the clothing she'd worn the night before. Still no bra and panties. Slut.

They praised my preparations, and my husband held my hand through much of the meal. We talked banalities. He said he was going to mow the lawn, and I should take her home.

In the car she was subdued. "Will I get to see him again?"

"He didn't say?" I asked, surprised that he hadn't told her.

"He says it's your decision. You're not mad at me are you?"

"No, I'm not mad." I wasn't. Not at all. I was driving my husband's lover home, and I'd be returning to him, while she was little more than a memory.

"I did what I thought you wanted. What you needed. I've known other submissives."

I grinned. She didn't understand at all. "I'm not a submissive. I'm a cuckquean. I derive my pleasure from seeing my husband in action. But I'm not his slave. He dotes on me, pleasures me, gives me all I could ever ask for."