The Coldest Night of the Year Ch. 03

This is story of femdom and cuckolding with a (literal) twist. If this isn't your kink, I won't be offended if you skip it.

*

Richard awoke on the morning of Christmas Eve to the sensation of Clara teasing his hard cock. She was lying on her side, naked under the sheets, gently stroking him. He moaned softly and thrust his hips in encouragement. He knew if he tried touching her, she'd stop. She was in control. He longed to caress her breasts and hips.

She slowly stroked the length of his erect cock, from the base to the tip, sliding her hand off as it reached the head.

"I love feeling you this hard," she purred. "It's a shame I'm not going to let you come." Clara smiled and paused briefly before resuming. Richard groaned, but said nothing. "I have no idea how you enjoy going unfulfilled."

Richard could feel the tension slowly building. He wondered how long he could endure her delightful torture. Would she stop, or would he have to beg her to?

"Fucking you last night was spectacular," she said. "I'm so glad I allowed you to sleep in my bedroom last night. You have no idea how much it turned me on when you begged me to fuck Jay." She continued stroking, with the same wicked smile on her face. Richard sighed deeply. Clara looked into his eyes.

"What are you thinking?"

"What if I change my mind?" Richard asked. Clara narrowed her eyes.

"I don't think you want to change your mind." She stopped stroking. "Do you?" Her tone had turned menacing.

In the morning light, Richard was less excited about his wife taking a lover than he had been the night before. He was now afraid of what would follow. At the same time, he was growing addicted to their new rituals. Clara's dominance turned him on, and Richard loved submitting to her. Her teasing and denial left him in a state of perpetual excitement. Clara fucked him with a hunger and an abandon that Richard had never seen in her before.

He said nothing. Clara took that as his answer. "I didn't think so," she said. "Besides, it's not your decision to make, is it? You begged me last night -- begged me! -- to fuck Jay. You're not going to take that gift back now, are you?"

Richard realized that this was not some game, or another tease. Clara told him last night that she wanted Jay the way she'd never wanted another man.

"I still love you," she said. "But we're not the same people we were six months ago." She started stroking his cock again, slowly. "You've jerked off to me telling you about my other lovers, listened to me phone-fuck my ex, and watched on your phone as I blew some rando. I've been making your darkest fantasies come true, and I know you're not the same person any more. Don't you think it's changed me too?" Clara spit in her hand, and circled the head of Richard's cock with the slippery palm. Richard bit his fist to keep from coming.

"I need to be fucked hard. But I can't remember the last time you fucked me, and not the other way around. Can you?"

Richard moaned. He didn't want to answer the question.

"I want you to think hard about what you want to happen next. I need someone to fuck me hard. And I don't think that's what you want any more. I swear that I'll love you no matter what you choose. But if you want me to dominate you, I'm going to take a lover, and I swear you'll suffer. But that is what you want, isn't it?" She didn't wait for his reply.

"You're at a fork in the road, and you're going to have to choose your path." Clara smiled at him and slid her hand off his cock just as he was about to come in her hand.

"I am giving you the choice, but you'd better make it now." She licked her lips and arched her back. The sheet slid off her chest, daring him to touch her tits.

Richard, on the edge of climax, was beyond rational thought. He was terrified of either option. She was giving him an out. He could still call it off, but what then? He could try to return to normal, but they were so far beyond normal, it wasn't an accessible place anymore. He could take this journey with her. He was turned on by the idea of her fucking a stranger, but taking a lover -- that made him sick. Or was he feeling excitement?

Clara held out her hand. "Hand me my phone," she said, smiling.

He hesitated. He was rock hard, lying next to her in bed. He could turn away from her and grab her phone, or he could roll in her direction, slide between her legs, and ...

"Hand it to me, Richard," she repeated. This time her tone was icy.

Richard turned away from her and fumbled for her phone on the nightstand. He held it out to her. She took it from him silently and pressed a couple of buttons. Richard heard a man's voice say her name on the other end.

"Darling," she said with a smile. "I told you he'd beg me to fuck you."

***

Jay entered their lives a month earlier, at the company Christmas party. Clara and Richard both arrived at the event anxious and horny. Clara had spent the day teasing Richard mercilessly, repeatedly building him up -- just shy of climax. She'd left him unfulfilled so many times that she'd lost count.

It had been nearly a week since she'd allowed Richard to come, and three weeks since she'd fucked him. Richard was attentive and solicitous that evening, as if he were on a first date. Richard was content to submit, but Clara was not content at all. Dominating Richard had left her hungry, and eager to shake up his contentment.

The Christmas party took place at the Regal Hotel, an ostentatious Gilded Age monument that had been gutted, re-gilded, and glamorized in an attempt to recapture its turn-of-the-last-century elegance. Clara loved it, but she knew that Richard considered it pretentious.

"God, I need a drink," Clara exclaimed as soon as they arrived. She grabbed a martini from a waiter's tray and drained it on the spot. She returned the empty glass to the tray and took another. Teasing Richard earlier had left her on edge. She regretted not making him go down on her. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of making her come, but she was the one who wound up unsatisfied.

"At moments like this, I'm sorry you don't drink," Clara sighed. She wanted to get drunk, but didn't want to drink alone. She grabbed Richard's elbow and guided him to a table overflowing with crushed ice and fresh oysters. She was ravenous, and she slurped down a dozen in quick succession. As she tipped back her head, the juices trickled down her chin, and she almost lost her balance as the gin kicked in. She felt the salty essence drip onto her breasts, which were more exposed by her black halter dress than she planned.

"If we weren't in the middle of the crowded room, I'd enjoy you sucking the juice off my tits," she whispered in his ear.

"Say the word," he replied, "and I'll fall to my knees, Clara."

Clara sighed. She tried to remember when Richard had last touched her without her commanding it.

Clara casually brushed his cock, confirming he was hard. A day of teasing had left him volatile and eager. She considered fucking him when they got home. She wanted him to take her and fuck her hard. But she knew he'd never dare. She considered having him strip for her before climbing on top of him. That would be better than nothing, and she knew Richard would love it.

"Darling, this must be Richard," a woman's voice called over Clara's shoulder. It was Helen, her boss. Clara turned to greet her.

Helen had already accumulated a tight little knot of ass-kissers, angling for scraps of recognition. Helen was the sexiest sixty-something woman Clara had ever known. She carried herself with the confidence of a woman who'd grown bored with seduction, yet continued to practice it with cruel indifference. She wore a tiny black silk dress that flaunted her slender figure and toned legs. Helen slid her fingers up Richard's muscular arms, flirting shamelessly with him.

Kurt -- the ex she'd phone-fucked to torture Richard -- joined the group. He flashed Clara a smug, lewd smile.

"I've been thinking about you," Kurt said as he wrapped his arms around her and give her a hug, sliding one hand down her back to squeeze Clara's ass. He pulled Clara firmly into his groin. She couldn't help but feel his hardened cock. He whispered in her ear, "I haven't been able to fuck my wife since your call, Clara."

Clara gazed over Kurt's shoulder at Richard. She could tell he was suffering, watching her and Kurt together. Richard knew how badly Clara wanted Kurt to fuck her, hard and with alpha-frat-boy callousness. Clara realized that Richard's fear and jealousy excited her more than his submission, which was pale and tepid in comparison. It rivaled the erotic impact of Kurt's throbbing hard-on. Richard is not the only one who had been changed by her domination.

She'd been thinking about Kurt's cock ever since she called him -- making Richard watch her while she talked to Kurt on the phone about how much she missed his cock and masturbated with him. Whatever Kurt's shortcomings, he knew how to fuck her. Christ, I want him, she thought, but I'll never get rid of him if I let him fuck me tonight.

"You better rediscover your wife's pussy, Kurt," she whispered in his ear. She noticed that Richard was watching them out of the corner of his eye, even while he was preening for Helen. "Because you're getting nowhere near mine." Clara smiled coldly. She drained her second martini.

Kurt, unmanned by Clara's rebuff, dropped all pretense of decorum. He stepped back from the hug, but grabbed her wrist as they disengaged. His grip was firm.

"Clara, it's been too long," Kurt announced in a voice that everyone could hear, savoring Richard's jealous glare. "How long has it been since we last ... talked?" He winked broadly and licked his lips. Kurt's lack of subtlety was breathtaking.

I hope Richard's enjoying this, Clara thought, because I've never been more turned on by Kurt than right now. She remembered Kurt fucking her over the hood of a car -- taking her from behind right before she left him. She wondered what it would be like to relive that moment with Richard watching. Clara noticed Helen was eyeing her and Kurt intently.

"How's the Uber game, Dick?" Kurt asked. "Getting any passenger pussy?" Kurt always was a bully. Rather than needle her further, he'd decided to go after Richard.

Clara struggled to hide her agitation with Kurt. She studied Richard's face for a hint of what he was feeling. He was turning red. Watching Kurt needle Richard was unbearable, but rather than rescue him, she decided to leave. She leaned over and whispered in Richard's ear, "Oh, for fuck's sake, I'm getting out of here." She glared at Kurt, then turned to the group and said, "I'm sorry, I need to find the ladies' room."

As she searched for the toilet, Clara realized that Kurt's interest, on top of two martinis and a week or more of relentless cock-teasing, had left her hotter and wetter than when she arrived. She needed to ditch her sopping panties.

Clara checked over her shoulder. Kurt knew her well enough to pick up on how much she wanted him. But he was also a block-headed narcissist, and could easily ignore her while he was preoccupied by toying with Richard and sucking up to Helen. Clara wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he hadn't followed after her.

She spotted an unfamiliar man leaning against the wall next to the ladies' room, waiting for his date. As she approached, the man alternately stared at Clara's tits and into her eyes. He wasn't perfect, but he was certainly fuckable.

Uncertain of her own motivation, she decided to call his bluff. She bit her lower lip as she stared back. She motioned her head toward an exit sign on the opposite wall.

The fuckable stranger glanced at the door and then at his watch, calculating how long his date was going to be indisposed, getting his story straight in advance. He went through the exit. Clara hesitated longer than she expected before following him.

"For a second, I thought you were pulling a gag," he said, grinning foolishly, as she entered the concrete stairwell. Christ, he's a moron, she thought. I hope he knows how to do this.

The stranger grabbed the back of her head and pulled her face close to his. He wasn't much of a kisser, but he was rough and that felt right for the occasion. He pawed at her tits like an over-friendly golden retriever.

Clara immediately regretted her decision. The last thing she wanted was to be fucked by this clown. But maybe the situation was salvageable.

"Don't say a word," she said, summoning her dominance. She reached under her dress and pulled down her panties. "Open your mouth." Clara shoved her wet, sex-perfumed panties into his open mouth. That killed three birds with one stone: ditching her sopping underwear, keeping the idiot quiet, and making it impossible for him to give her another awkward kiss.

She pushed him back against the wall. "Shh. Just a second." She already knew everything about him. He would put up with a woman who'd just shoved her panties in his mouth.

Clara pulled out her phone and sent Richard a quick text:

"Break away and go to the men's room"

And then:

"Find a quiet stall and wait for my call"

Clara reached down and slowly stroked the imperfect stranger's cock. She stared into his eyes, saying, "I hope you're not in a hurry. Because I'm not." The stranger shook his head, but Clara could practically hear his feeble brain calculating how long he had before his date started looking for him. She waited until Richard had enough time to get ready for her call.

She then dialed Richard on her phone. While she waited for him to pick up, she handed the phone to the stranger. "Whatever you do, keep the camera on me. Do you think you can do that?" He nodded, still trying to process what was happening. He realized he had lost control of the scene, but couldn't figure out exactly when it had happened.

Clara dropped to her knees. He was good and hard. She unzipped the pants of his rented tux. He moaned. She playfully sank her teeth into his erection, still wrapped in his underwear. He yelped a little. Clara looked up at him in silent menace, convincing him she just might bite it off if he didn't do as he was told.

Then she pulled out his cock, swallowed the head, and stared up into the camera. I hope you're enjoying this Richard, she thought, because one of us should.

The imperfect stranger was memorizing every detail so he could tell his friends on Monday. He kept the camera steady -- or as steady as could be expected under the circumstances. He had finally gotten his footing and used his free hand to push her deeper onto his cock. Clara gagged a little. She could tell he got off on that and she enjoyed his excitement more than her own.

It wasn't long before Clara was relieved to feel him closing in on his climax.

Clara pulled his hard cock out of her mouth just as he came -- streams of cum falling onto her face, on her shoulder, and between her tits. She continued stroking his cock, which was slippery with spit and semen. She milked every drop until he was dry.

She grabbed the phone with her sticky hand and hung up on Richard. Then she rolled onto her back, and lay on the cold concrete floor. Clara shoved her clean hand deep under her dress. The stranger watched as Clara rubbed her swollen clit. Clara's panties were still dangling from his lips.

Clara came hard, screaming as if she were in pain. The stranger looked a little panicked that they'd be discovered, especially with his missing date presumably searching for him. She wiped his cum off her face, and licked it off her fingers. She looked up at him, disgusted. "Get out of here!" she yelled at him, jabbing him in the shins with her heels. He ran out the door, nearly forgetting to take Clara's panties out of his mouth before rejoining the party.

Clara pulled herself to her feet, and ran her fingers, which smelled of pussy, through her short red hair. She could feel the stranger's cum on her shoulder and between her tits, but she didn't bother to wipe it up, leaving it for Richard to see. Her hunger was abated, but he she was still unsatisfied.

She checked her makeup in her compact mirror and made her way back to the circle of people around Helen, unsteady on her feet. She couldn't believe she had made it back before Richard. She smiled, picturing him jerking off in some busy men's room stall, having watched her blow some random stranger on his phone. Clara noticed Helen staring at her, smiling.

"Clara, darling," Helen said. "You look like the cat that swallowed the canary."

Before she could process Helen's remark, Richard came up behind her.

"Richard," Helen said. "Are you feeling alright? You seem very pale indeed."

Clara smiled. She turned to face him. Richard must be reeling, wondering who had just come all over his wife.

Richard leaned over her and kissed her on the neck. Then, she felt his tongue on her skin. Oh, my, fucking, God, Clara thought. He's licking that asshole's cum on off my shoulder. Jesus, that's hot.

"That's very sweet of you, darling," Clara whispered in his ear. "There's more on my tits if you want it." She touched his face while he gently licked her still-sticky hand. God, he's adorable, she thought. She guided his lips to hers and they kissed.

The room spun a little. Looking through the crowd, Clara could see the stranger with his arm around a woman who worked in her department. Thinking about facing her Monday morning, Clara could taste his cum coating the inside of her mouth. She was ashamed at her own behavior.

But she was also angry. Richard and some anonymous oaf just had a night they'll always remember. Meanwhile, that little stairwell tryst had left her completely unsatisfied. There had to be another way to make this work.

Clara was lost in the moment, thinking about asking Richard to take her home and fuck her hard like he used to, when Helen's voice snapped her back to reality.

"Clara, there's someone I want you to meet," Helen announced. "This is Jay. He starts work on Monday."

Clara turned away from watching the imperfect stranger across the room, dropped her hand holding Richard's face, and automatically extended it to Jay before she remembered it was a still moist from Richard's tongue and probably still sticky with the stranger's cum.

"Nice to meet you...uh..." Clara realized she'd forgotten his name already.

"Jay. I'm pleased to meet you, Clara," he said. He gripped her hand firmly.

Thinking about this moment in the weeks that followed, Clara could never decide whether she would have been drawn to Jay in other circumstances. But here she was -- horny, agitated, disappointed, literally off-balance, and somehow having turned her own life upside down -- a free radical looking for an opportunity to bond. And here was Jay, locking eyes with her as he held her hand.

Jay released Clara's hand, but held her gaze. Clara suddenly felt self-conscious and disheveled from her tryst in the stairwell. She struggled to regain her balance.

"Richard," she said, without looking at him, let alone bothering to introduce him to Jay. "Please get me a Scotch from the bar. Jay, can he get you anything?"

"I'll have what she's having," Jay told Richard.

Clara turned to kiss Richard on the cheek and whisper in his ear, "Take your time." Richard hesitated. Clara gave him a don't-test-me stare. Richard retreated sulkily.

Clara turned to get a better look at Jay. He wasn't what Clara thought of as her type. He was in his late twenties, an age that Clara had considered callow, especially since she and Richard had hit 35. He also wasn't as beefy as Richard or Kurt were, for that matter. But he was lean, wiry, and intense. He wasn't particularly tall. In her heels they were roughly at eye level. His eyes were dark and they held her gaze steadily. His clothes had been masterfully tailored. He carried himself with a confidence that put Clara fully at ease.