Cuckquean - Ellen, the Honest

She was quiet again. "Can I? See him again?"

I felt the rush, the thrill. I imagined him on her, using her. And now she understood. She was pleasuring both of us, by pleasuring him. She was my lover too, even when I wasn't touching her.

I passed her my phone. "Give me your number. I'll let you know. I'll need to talk to him. He may want someone else. Someone more deserving. Somebody younger, prettier."

She turned red, but put her number in my phone. She passed it to me, and held my hand when I went to take it. "Tell me what you need. I don't know. I want it to be good for both of you. I didn't expect last night. He . . . he's surprising."

"Incredible," I said.

"Yes. And more."

She pointed out her home, and I pulled up into the driveway. "I think I'll be seeing you again. If he wants you, maybe we should meet for coffee beforehand. We could talk," I said, feeling magnanimous.

She smiled, as I stopped the car. "I'd like that. Thank you. Thanks for everything."

She leaned toward me and I met her halfway. The kiss was more passionate than I expected. My husband chose well. I made sure I gave as good as I got.

She climbed out of the car, and I called out to her before she could close the door. "I'll call later today. One way or the other. Next time bring a change of clothing, and plan a longer visit."

She grinned, and I was struck again by her beauty. Ten years younger than us, gorgeous, and she wanted my husband.

Of course she did. Who wouldn't?

"Thanks. Give him my love. I can hardly wait to hear."

"Bye," I said. No, I wouldn't be giving him her love. He was getting mine. Without limit or reservation. That's what he'd said, right? How could I love him any less?

- ( . Y . ) -

Some were easier than others. Many we never saw again. Karen was a frequent guest, and we were friends. I never saw her intimately away from my husband, but we met often, went shopping, had lunch, whenever she was in town. She had an important job, and she traveled frequently. She was on the road nearly half the time. I had always wondered why someone like her didn't have a real relationship. She did, unfortunately it was with her job.

She would have been even more regular, but there was a fear of it becoming more. In truth, it already had. In the last couple of years he'd been with many women. Many. None were our Karen, but we weren't ready for anything more than what we had. Not yet.

I still don't know why I need it, but it's an indisputable fact. It drives me wild. I can come dozens of times watching him in action. If fuels my passion for weeks afterwards.

It drives me crazy when he has one without me. The first time it happened, I was a mess, crying, screaming, yelling at him, until he tamed me in his bed. He made it clear. I'd opened the door, and he wasn't going to allow me to close it. He would fuck who he wanted, when he wanted. And if that included some stupid co-ed who meant nothing to him other than a way to get his rocks off, I had to live with it.

I was hurt, and Karen had come over to take care of me, soothe and comfort me. She stayed the weekend, and I was put through my paces, taking care of them, watching their passion, and receiving their love.

It still makes me a little nuts when he does it. He knows it too. I found a pair of tiny panties under the couch while cleaning. I confronted him about it. He only smiled, and bent me over the end of the couch before fucking my brains out. The thought of him with her fueled my fantasies for at least a month. Who was it? Someone I knew? Some mystery slut? What did she do for him? Was she a regular I didn't know about?

That afternoon I had to pleasure him at the door. He'd called ahead, and I was waiting, wearing my best lingerie. He closed the door and unzipped. His cock was dirty. I could smell it, I could taste it. He grinned at me. Another mystery fuck, the lousy bastard. Torturing me like that. I sucked him fiercely, then stopped.

"You asshole! That's Karen. You didn't pick up some common whore. That's our Karen!"

He laughed, and carried me into the living room, making me ride him in his favorite chair. "She was in the building for work. She wanted to see my office. She insisted I surprise you."

I couldn't help but giggle. The little bitch. I'd get her. "That was mean," I said.

"You loved it. You know you did."

I couldn't argue that. I was tingling all over. The thought that he'd been with some stranger both infuriated and excited me. Knowing that it was Karen, at his office, where he'd never fucked me, was another torture altogether. "In your office?"

"On my desk. I was almost late for a meeting."

"Was she . . ."

"Wild. I had to gag her with my tie." He lifted it and showed me the bite marks. I came for him, ashamed while he laughed at me.

Fuck. I could see them together, in his office, work proceeding around them as usual. Her skirt pulled up, panties pulled aside, while he used her hard. I moaned and he laughed again. He made me pause, then reached for his pants around his ankles. It was awkward, but he managed it. "Close your eyes."

I did. I hated these games. God, how I loved them! He knew me too well.

"Open your mouth wide, my love."

Open my mouth? I did, hesitant.

"Wider," he snapped, and I opened as wide as I could. He was stuffing something in my mouth, and I couldn't keep my eyes closed. He started bouncing me on his cock. "Her panties. I kept them."

I shrieked my orgasm through the panties, while he used me for his pleasure. I heard the door open behind me, and I was frightened. We weren't expecting anyone. He would have told me. I hadn't made anything for dinner. I reached for the panties, and he blocked my hands. "No."

I whimpered, burying my face in his shoulder. What was this game? Who would witness my shame?

I could smell her, and I relaxed. Calm, happy, excited. Loved.

She pulled the panties from my mouth. "I was wondering where I'd lost these." She kissed the back of my neck, running her hands along my skin, before kissing my husband.

"Ellen, I believe you're in my seat," she whispered.

I got up, trembling, and knelt beside them. She lifted her skirt and took my place, settling on his cock. "Did you tell her?"

"No."

She beckoned me nearer, and I leaned into them. "We're going out for your anniversary. Wear something conservative. I get to be the slutty one."

Oh God. In public. Forced to sit with them, for our anniversary no less, while they acted like newlyweds. We'd only done that once before, and I hadn't been able to handle it. I'd cracked, and run from the building. My shame had been boundless.

She tilted my chin up and kissed me. "You'll be fine, Ellen. I promise. We're different now, you must recognize that. We won't push you too far. None of us want that."

Steven was silent, content to fuck the slut that had taken my place. His mistress. There was no other way to describe her. My nemesis.

"Don't hurt me," I pleaded.

She settled down, and hugged me. "Oh, honey, we won't. We love you. It'll be fine. You're going to hate every moment of it, and love it like nothing before. We're going to drive you crazy."

I was whimpering as she kissed me. She could push all my buttons. She knew it. I had to trust her, and I hated that. Trust HER. The woman who wanted nothing more than to take my place.

It was agony. Watching them, watching others watching them. I was commanded to drink with my left hand, my wedding ring on display. Her finger of course was bare. It was obvious. My husband was with a younger, prettier woman, and I was forced to watch.

We ate dinner. They laughed, they flirted, they stared into each other's eyes. They ate from each other's plates, and shared dessert. I was a bump on a log, an afterthought. I could see the way the staff looking at me, embarrassed. They couldn't know what was really happening. Then again, did I?

We drove to another bar for some dancing. She sat in the front again, while I was relegated to the back. I told myself I was being chauffeured. It didn't help. We had a table for three, and she sat in the middle. I was seated against the wall. They danced frequently, and she turned down the many suitors who asked her for a spin. A few men approached me, but I turned them away, explaining I only danced with my husband. I watched, growing twitchier by the minute. I was playing with my ring, almost hyperventilating. I couldn't stand it. Then he left.

"Where's he going?" I demanded.

"He's going to try to fuck the redhead at the bar," she explained. Karen pulled my hand into her lap and I found out she wasn't wearing panties. I tried to pull away but she had an iron grip on my wrist.

"Touch me, Ellen. Please. I need it now."

"Now?"

She leaned against me, her voice low. "I'm not like you. He loves you. He'll always come back to you. I'm convenient."

She had to know she was wrong. I rubbed her softly, feeling her legs part. "That's not true, and you know it. You're the only one I fear."

"See?" she whispered. "I fear all of them. No matter what, you're his. What if this is the one? The redhead. He gets infatuated, and I'm yesterday's news. I hate it. Ellen. I hate it every time. Every single damn time he's with someone that's not you. How can you stand it?"

We both watched him talking to her, his hand around the back of her chair. She was flirting, laughing too easily, throwing all that damn red hair around. Touching him, playing with her glass, licking her lips. And the bastard was eating it up.

"I hate it," she whispered, and I petted her. She sighed, her head on my shoulder. This was crazy. How was I supposed to be the strong one, the comforting one?

"Me too. It drives me crazy," I confessed. "Especially when he does it away from me."

Karen sniffed, her hand sliding between my legs. My skirt was longer, almost to my knees. I lifted my hips so she could pull it up easier. "He always does it away from me. I only hear about it from you. We've been together for two years. Don't I matter at all?"

"Of course you matter. Of all the women he's been with, you're the only one that does. I don't think he's seen any other woman more than three times. He's been with you ten times as often."

"Not because he likes me. Don't you think I know? It's because of you. You accept me, so he puts up with me. That's all. I'm the fallback."

I didn't like her feeling sorry for herself. I especially didn't like the way that Steven was copping a feel from the redhead, her hand on his crotch, his hand fondling the side of her breast. He might as well have been fucking her on the stool where she sat.

"I'll be back," I told Karen, pushing the table away and stepping out from behind it. Enough was enough. I wasn't excited or happy. I was pissed. This was wrong. Not like this, in front of Karen, in public. She deserved better.

I stepped up beside him, and he didn't even acknowledge my presence. I grabbed his arm. "No. Not this one. Not now."

He looked at me in surprise, and he turned red. "We can discuss this later," he said to me firmly.

I held my ring finger up in front of the redhead's face. "Buzz off, slut. He's married." I turned to face my husband, seeing anger in his face. "Spare me the indignation. Not this one. Not now. Not in front of Karen. I won't have it."

"You don't decide—"

"I do now. This is NOT what I want. Are you coming or will you be finding a hotel tonight, because if you don't leave with me, now, you're not coming home." I turned and headed back to our table, grabbing my purse, and passing Karen hers. "Come on, we're leaving."

I heard him behind me, and felt his hand on my arm. "What the hell was that about?" he snapped.

I jerked my arm away from him. "Don't manhandle me! I'm your wife, and you'd do well to remember that in public! I'm not some slut you pick up on a whim."

He appeared shocked, and he leaned forward, lowering his voice. "I thought you wanted—"

"Not this. I never asked for this. Karen sure as hell didn't." I looked over and saw the terrified look on her face. I could tell she was afraid that she'd catch the blame for this. "I'm going home. I'm taking Karen with me. Are you coming or not?"

I expected him to blow up in the car, but it was a quiet ride home. Not a word was spoken. I knew he was pissed at me for messing up his night, but at the moment I didn't give a damn. Oh yeah. I sat in front.

At the house, I entered without a word. I looked at Karen, standing there, confused, and scared. "In the bedroom," I told her. She followed docilely. I turned down the bedding, and started to undress.

"Maybe I should go," she said.

"No. You're staying. If anyone's leaving, it's him. Get in the damn bed, Karen."

I know I had her confused. This was a part of me that she'd never seen. The part that had kept a household together with an iron fist, and raised two wonderful children. Just because I liked watching my man fuck other women, I wasn't a pushover or a wimp. It was about damn time that everyone understood that.

I opened my arms to her, and she came to me. I held her, kissing her face, promising things would be better. That they would change. It was a long time before Steven decided to join us.

He entered the bedroom, looking at us. I watched as he approached tentatively, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry. I went too far, didn't I?"

"Way too far. What the hell were you thinking?" I said coldly.

He sighed, and started undressing. I was tempted to kick him out of the room, but I recalled my grandmother's wedding advice. "Never go to bed angry, without resolving your issues. It served me and your grandfather well for fifty-two years. I hope the same for you."

I was pissed, but I wanted to have it out. "Leave the boxers on. I'm not sure if you're staying yet."

He sighed, and sat on the bed, Indian style. I was still holding Karen, facing him, while she kept her head buried in my neck. "I thought you'd like it," he said. "I swear. It went too far. Let's not get carried away."

"Did you think Karen would like it? Leaving her to pick up some slut?" I asked.

He looked confused. "This is about you—"

"No, Steven. This is about us, our happiness. I was not happy tonight. Not excited. Did you even think to ask if that was what I wanted? You two railroaded me into this."

"I thought you wanted to see me with other women. That was your idea, not mine."

"I wanted to WATCH you with another woman. You keep pushing the boundaries, without any care at all for what I want."

"Bullshit, Ellen. Of course I care. I'm doing this for you."

"The first time, I believe you did. I don't think that show tonight was for me at all. You saw some woman, and thought you'd score. You abandoned us for some stranger. On our fucking anniversary!"

He scooted closer, and put his hand on my arm, where I was hugging our girl. "Explain it to me. Obviously I don't understand. What do you want? If this isn't it, just tell me. Your happiness means more to me than anything else. You have to believe me, Ellen. If I hurt you, I'm sorry. That's the last thing I ever wanted."

I watched him, and knew it was true. At least he thought it was. The man couldn't lie to me worth shit. He hadn't been able to since day one. "Take off those stupid boxers, and get in this bed, husband."

He smiled, and cuddled up behind Karen, facing me. "Talk to me Ellen. I'm all ears. Let me make it right."

"Where are we going, Steven? Are you going to keep pushing, keep testing me, seeing how much humiliation I can take before I crack? What's your end game?"

"I didn't have one in mind. I thought you liked it. You get so excited when I'm with someone else. You're so happy. I thought you liked a little humiliation."

"In private," I said. "And I have my limits."

"Share them. Tell me what to do. What will make you happy?"

"First of all, NOTHING in public. I hate that. I think you might have learned that from the first time you pulled this crap. Second, I don't get off on seeing you with an endless array of women. Especially not behind my back," I explained.

"But you get so excited," he said. I could see he was genuinely confused.

"Maybe I do. But I'm also torn up inside. I don't need that much excitement. I think once was enough."

He nodded, "Alright. No more secret relationships, and nothing in public. What else?"

"I want to keep her." There. I said it. I'm an idiot.

"Keep her? Who? Karen?"

"Who else? Have you learned nothing in the last couple of years? I love to watch you with her. It drives me crazy. I love to see you together, even out of bed. I love how you are with me afterwards, and I love how I feel. How do you feel?"

He kissed her shoulder, his hand slowly traversing her side. "She's my favorite, of course. I'm just afraid of getting too close to her. She's a danger to us."

"Is she? Would you leave me for her?"

"I'd never leave you. Not for anything. But she's different. I have feelings for her. I have to keep her at arm's length. For us."

"Those feelings, they matter. They drive me nuts, usually in a good way. I know you care for her, although you sure as hell didn't show it tonight."

"I had to do that. Show her that she wasn't special. I can't let that happen. You must understand why," he argued.

I nodded. "I know what you think, but you're wrong. I want you to make love to her. Now. And I don't mean fuck her. Don't hold back. Love her, and tell her the truth, no matter how risky, or how much you think it might hurt me. Can you do that for me, Steven?"

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm positive." I pulled back a bit, tilting Karen's head up. "Can we do that? Will you hear the truth? Will you let him love you, for me?"

She gazed into my eyes, then nodded. She kissed me, and turned to face my husband.

I pulled back and gave them space, quiet, non-interfering. They started tentatively, and then they were one, moving together perfectly. I could feel a tightness in my chest, and a burning threatening to overwhelm me. They were staring into each other's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I know. I understand," she said.

"No, it was wrong. I was trying to prove a point, maybe even convince myself. I'm an idiot."

She grinned, and kissed him softly while he slid in and out of her. "No argument."

They were quiet, moving so wonderfully. She broke first. "I love you."

He paused in his movements. He kissed her, passionately, then lovingly, teasing. "I know." He kissed her again. "I love my wife," he said.

She nodded, and I could see how she hurt. My heart went out to her.

He kissed her again. "I love you too. It's wrong, so wrong. It's not fair. I mean, I shouldn't . . ."

She chose the expedient manner of kissing him to shut him up. My jealousy surged. I knew it. He loved her. Not as much as me, but who knows? She's beautiful, intelligent, sexy. She makes a lot of money. She's a tiger in bed. How could I compete with that? I couldn't. No way. She was better in every way. He deserved someone like her, not those nameless sluts.

"Love me," she whispered. "Love me like you love her."

I groaned, my hand between my legs, shuddering from the intensity of my orgasm. Crying out.

They both looked over at me, and Karen smiled. "He's mine now, you know. He loves me. You gave him to me tonight. I'm never letting him go now."

I whimpered, shaking, the orgasms striking fiercely, enveloping me, unimpeded. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She was right. I gave him to her. Would I lose him? Would he finally realize I wasn't enough? That I wasn't worthy.

He was moving again, eager, desperate for her. I knew that look. The one I'd feared all along. The one I knew I'd see someday. The animal was gone, and my husband was gazing into another woman's eyes, the way he only looked at me. I struggled to move closer to reclaim him.