Angels Have Horns Pt 09

My love story continues in much the same way as the previous parts and includes cuckolding, humiliation and this time an element of interracial play.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons, alive or dead, is purely coincidental. Any grammatical errors are my own.

Cuckolded husband I may be, well hoped to be, but that didn't mean I'd happily let Sully do what he was doing. Yes, he may have seen everything of Chloe, but so what?

As calmly as I could, I gripped his arm. "Take your fucking hand off her," I said. "That isn't how it works Sully."

We locked eyes, but unlike the handshake I didn't back down and his bright blue eyes glinted with what I can only describe as...respect?

We put Sully's actions down to excitement and decided to chalk it up to experience. You could argue that in many ways it was kind of flattering. He'd been so worked up by Chloe that he couldn't stop himself maybe.

Whatever, Chloe seemed to forget about the whole thing pretty quickly, but I didn't.

Despite the disappointment I'd felt during the photoshoot, I was still buzzing from the experience and we talked. For Chloe it was everything she'd hoped it would be. Her uncle Ken's friend and 6 strangers taking "those sorts of photos" was a huge turn on for her and I reaped the benefits. I fucked her real hard that night, but unlike Asaf, Andrew and James, the only way I could make her squirt was with my fingers and tongue.

And that was perfect for me. I liked knowing they could. It humiliated me and that turned me on. But I needed another man to see that humiliation turning me on when he fucked her to a squirting orgasm in front of me, knowing he could do what I couldn't.

Lying in post coital bliss, the need to torture myself won out. Working with James didn't help because it was a constant reminder of what I'd missed out on. So I asked where, excluding me, he would rank.

"You can't look at it like that." she tried to explain. "They're all different and that's what I like, you know?" I guess I did. "Anyway, if you're really gonna ask me to rank them, Asaf would be number 1."

I'd guessed he would be. Maybe it was because he was the first man we'd, she'd, planned for together? I still felt she'd fallen for Asaf though. That maybe she'd not loved him, but something close. Explaining why that made me hard is difficult, but it was part of our blueprint.

When I'd rewritten the article I'd envisaged there being one man. A man who Chloe could fall for, sexually rather than emotionally. Someone who took time to understand my needs as well as hers and wasn't afraid to grow with us. Singleminded enough to truly make her his slut and respect us for allowing him to do so. A man I knew who, when he called, Chloe would drop everything she was doing and go to. No ifs. No buts. And absolutely no shadow of doubt in my mind that sexually, she was his.

An impossible dream? Probably. Human nature suggests so. Life's complications would no doubt get in the way. Emotions would be stretched to the limit. I knew, we knew that finding one man we could trust enough to commit to our blueprint was unlikely, but that's why we have dreams isn't it? Life would be dull without them.

Anyway, I asked if she'd ever fuck James again.

"Yes," she said frankly. "But not like we did. No more 'cheating.' I know it turns you on, but we're not looking for that anymore. He'd have to know what we do. I'm not sure he'd understand and even if he did, it would just be sex. He's not the one."

It was still unbelievable that just a few weeks ago we'd been on our honeymoon and all this, all that was taking place, had been nothing but a pipe dream.

"But if you think you can somehow get James on board..." She let the words drift.

Now I have to say, I was getting desperate to see Chloe fucked by another man. I needed to break the image of the one person who I had seen...her rapist. How I could do it was the problem. Especially if that man was going to be James.

A couple of days later maybe, I brought up the subject of girlfriends again with him as casually as I could. Inside I was being ripped to shreds knowing how well he'd fucked Chloe, him blissfully unaware that I knew. And strange as it may sound, it fucking well turned me on to hear him brag. It scratched the itch of humiliation I needed, but only barely.

"You don't have to tell me, but have you had many girlfriends, James?" I asked, not very tactfully.

"I don't mind, boss," he said pleasantly. "Just 2, other than the one I was fucking, but she wasn't a girlfriend really. So yeah, just the 2. Not much to brag about really. You?"

I laughed, but it sounded a little too forced to my ears. "Other than Chloe, much the same," I told him. "When I met her, I knew she was the one."

He just smiled and I wondered how it made him feel to have fucked the woman I'd just told him was "the one" behind my back. But to his mind, Chloe had fucked him behind my back too, so why would he feel any guilt?

It was an inherent problem of mine...I thought too much. Too deeply. Everything had to have a reason. Some kind of deeper meaning. I couldn't accept that for some people there simply was no deeper meaning.

"So no chance of you getting back together? With the last one, I mean." Jesus, I sounded desperate. If I wasn't careful he'd guess and that might ruin everything.

"She's married," he told me frankly. "So I'm not sure really. S'up to her I guess."

"Oh right. So she was cheating with you then?"

"Yeah. Like I said, she's a bit of a slut," he said with a snort. "Liked a good fucking though. Spunked a few loads up her, but she just went cold and stopped asking. Probably moved on to another cock."

God it hurt to hear him talking like that. It hurt, but I was so fucking hard. It was still possible he wasn't talking about Chloe, but it had to be if what he'd told me was true. Chloe had admitted having to ask him too, so to my mind, there was no doubt and the need to torture myself further kicked in a little harder.

"Stopped asking?"

"Yeah," he told me with a snort. "Think she got off asking for it. Good for the ego though."

I bet it was.

"So she's a looker then?" I asked and again, it all sounded like I was too keen, but I couldn't help myself.

"Oh yeah, she's a looker, boss," he said, then grinned. "Felt like I was punching above my weight at first, but she kept coming back, so I must have been doing something right."

Then he chuckled to himself, recalling a memory. "She's a squirter. There were few times in my flat, she squirted that much I thought she'd pissed herself. Good job I've got wooden floors."

I felt dizzy with it. The humiliation was dragging me down. Not once had I ever heard another man talk to me about her like that.

I tried really hard to hide it. "Bloody hell, James," I said, feigning shock. "Don't think I've ever met a squirter."

"Chloe not like that then, boss?" he asked with a smirk I would struggle not to forget, then immediately backtracked. "Sorry, that was out of order."

I wanted to tell him she only squirted for men like him. Men with larger cocks who knew how to fuck a slut like her. I wanted to tell him lots of things, but all I did was laugh, telling him not to worry. "But, no, Chloe isn't like that. We have a good sex life and everything though. She's pretty hot in the sack."

I said all of this hoping he'd bite, while I was thinking whether he was getting a buzz telling me that he could make my wife squirt right to my face. Unaware that I knew the woman he'd "spunked a few loads up" was Chloe. That had to say something about his attitude surely? Bad or good, whichever way you choose to look at it. Personally, I thought it was a positive. Maybe he wouldn't have a problem fucking her in front of me.

But if, for whatever reason, he suspected I did know? Now that would put a whole new slant on it. And it raised questions. I couldn't do it. What he was doing. I wasn't the kind of guy to sleep with someone else's wife, let alone have to audacity to brag to her husband afterwards. And again, my twisted mind saw it as a positive.

Unfortunately, he didn't bite. I could have just come out with it, but the risk of it all going wrong was to great. What was becoming abundantly clear though, was James wasn't as quiet as I thought.

I didn't tell Chloe what he'd said, deciding to work on James alone for the time being. Choosing to torture myself.

Come Friday, just as we'd tidied up after eating, we got a call from Pete telling us the photos were ready, asking if he could drop them over later. We were excited to see them, so told him we'd be free after 8pm.

"We need to talk about Pete," she said ominously after the call. "Let's go upstairs while I get ready."

After showering, she sat at her dressing table and me on the bed wondering what the fuck it was she needed to tell me.

"So," she began, "You remember asking me if anything had happened with Pete?"

Recalling that particular unanswered question, I nodded my head. I don't know why I felt apprehensive, but I did. Actually, that's a lie. I was half expecting her to tell me he'd fucked her.

"After Ken's birthday party, you know, the one when I asked him if he kept copies? Well, and don't forget how excited I was at the time, I popped over to his a couple of days later, after work," she said as she slipped on the same white leggings she'd worn before. No panties. Just the leggings. "I wanted to see the photos," she continued. "And I wanted to know he got hard too. I'd only seen Ken until then."

Braless, she slipped on a tight white, flimsy vest top and began to dry her hair. Given what I knew about her past and her fixation with exhibitionism, I could understand that.

"So he took me up to his darkroom and showed me where he did the developing," she explained. "It was just gobbledegook to me. Anyway, I think he knew why I was really there, so he took me to his bedroom and showed me his collection of photos. I mean, I hadn't actually seen them before, you know? Ken kept his private."

So I sat there, surprisingly nervous and desperately trying not to rush her or anticipate more than it might actually be. And I can't lie. I was hard.

"And I got really turned on. I mean, seeing myself in all those outfits and knowing Pete had secretly been keeping copies? He was different to Ken too. The way he talked, you know?" she said as she began to apply her makeup. "I don't know, but one thing led to another and before I knew it, I was down to my bra and panties and posing on his bed. Like I'd been doing for Ken."

I was getting impatient. The image of Pete managing to coax - although he probably hadn't needed to try hard - an 18 year old Chloe down to her underwear so easily was very arousing.

"He didn't take any photos, but at the time, I'd have let him if he wanted to," she continued as she did her eyeshadow. "And then I was naked and he was telling me how to pose, like I was a model or something. I really loved it too, baby. I mean, he was the first guy to really see me properly naked, you know? God. I was so turned on."

Taking her blusher out and brushing her cheeks, I began to see how heavily she intended to apply her makeup. That sent my head in a spin because I guessed, well, I knew, she was doing it for Pete, the first guy to see her "properly naked." Now I was beginning to understand why she had a 'thing' for him.

"And he asked me if I wanted to see his cock. He's such a dirty talker and you know how I get with men when they talk like that. He knows how to get into my head," she continued as she finished with her blusher. "You could say it was Pete who got me into it. Like Timmy did with sucking cock? Anyway, I said yes and he showed me and to cut a long story short, he shot his cum on my pussy."

Bloody hell! Pete, just like I'd seen Ken, had shot his cum over her. The first guy to do it too. And then the questions formed.

"What's his cock like?" I asked. "Did you like it?"

"Trust you," she snorted. "Lets put it this way. He's bigger than you. Not by much. Thicker though, but most guys are thicker than you, sweetheart. And yeah, of course I liked it."

I admit I felt a little hurt and inadequate, but that was always the thing with Chloe, to her it was just a statement of fact and I knew she loved me. I suppose she might have been trying to remind me that I was her cuckold, sticking to our blueprint. It could also be true, but there was nothing I could do about it. Mostly though, it turned me on.

"Very thick?" I asked tentatively.

"Not very. Just thicker than you, baby," she said and picked up her lipstick.

"So did you do it again?"

"No," she said. "Just that one time. I got worried about Ken finding out."

"Did his cock touch your pussy though? When he came on it? Was there a lot?"

"Yes, his cock touched me and he wiped it all over me. Like Ken did?" she said assuming I'd understand, which I did and the new image of Pete spreading his cum over her pussy formed. "I guess there was a fair amount. More than Ken, but it sort of oozed out. And it was really thick," she said as she put her lipstick down.

It was my favourite, bright red and so glossy it made her lips look wet. I loved watching her get ready and for a few blissful moments, I was lost in my thoughts. Finished, she took one last check in the mirror and sat next to me.

"Anyway, he'd been badgering me for years to model for his club, so I thought with our blueprint, why not? And Pete is the perfect guy. Randy, good with the camera, knows how to get me going and he has contacts, baby," she said with a smile. "Lots of contacts that we could use for fun."

Almost every day since returning from our honeymoon and committing herself to our blueprint, Chloe did something or said something that took me by surprise. "Contacts we could use?" I asked my amazing wife.

"Well, remember we talked about not knowing who would be at the photo shoot?" I nodded as she continued. "If we decided to do it again, Pete might be able to arrange it. Now that would be a real rush. Just think if we turned up and I don't know, one of the family was there, someone from work, the postman..."

"That's risky, Chloe," I told her, which I knew it was, but I couldn't deny I liked the idea. "But you told him it was a one time thing."

She just smiled. "A girl can change her mind, can't she?"

"Ok, ok," I said. "We can talk about it I guess, but why get dressed up tonight? All that makeup. No panties or bra?"

Squeezing my hand and with a little peck on my cheek. "Honestly, David," she said rolling her eyes. "Because I'm an exhibitionist and I know what he'll be thinking when he sees me. Anyway, its not like he hasn't seen everything already is it?" she reminded me.

God, she knew how to push my buttons.

"So when he arrives, I want you to make sure he feels really welcome," she told me. "He could be useful for us."

When the doorbell chimed, she slipped on some white heels and we went down to let him in. I had a whole new take on Pete now as I watched him following Chloe through to the living room, a large hold-all in hand and his beady eyes glued to her jiggling oversized buttocks, an obvious erection already tenting his trousers.

The image of him smearing his "really thick" cum over her pussy returned and that made me want to see it because just like Ken, Pete had been, still was in fact, a significant part of her life.

We settled down on the sofa, Chloe making sure she was in the middle, and he took out a folder and opened it up.

"So, I thought I'd you'd appreciate a portfolio," he told us. "There's 36 shots," he added, licking his thin lips as he smiled at Chloe.

Chloe was in her element, about to see the results of a long held fantasy. Not just hers, I now knew. The photos were good too. Really good. Chloe looked like a bonafide model and every pore of her skin was in sharp focus. They were pretty standard shots. Lots of her bent over, legs spread and knees by her shoulders. You get the idea.

And it was clear she'd enjoyed every second. Her pussy was wet. Sopping wet by the last few shots. Her petal-like labia were pink and engorged and her large clitoris was thick and swollen. Even her anus, smooth and puckerless, just a tiny hole really, was perfectly captured in all its full glory.

I was as hard as nails watching them, Pete ogling my obscenely naked wife and Chloe delighted to be ogled by the man who'd been tossing himself off to her, over her once, for nigh on 6 years. He'd been instrumental in making her, their, fantasy a reality, so maybe I needed to give him more respect than I had been. I kind of zoned out a little, taking more notice of them, than the photos.

"Oh Pete," she purred as he slid a scrawny hand along her thigh. "These are perfect. And you can see everything," she added, nudging my leg to spur me on. "You're so clever. I really can't thank you enough."

I could think of a way. "Yeah," I jumped in awkwardly. "You've done a great job, Pete. Chloe's not stopped talking about it." It felt contrived, but it was the best I could do at the time.

"Thanks," he said, more to Chloe than me. "I had great fun developing them. The other guys too. They really loved you Chloe. They've already asked me if you'd do another shoot, but I explained it was just a one time thing," he told her, squeezing her thigh. "That's what you said, wasn't it?"

She put her hand over his and smiled teasingly. "Well, yes, I did. But you know, never say never. I might want to have another go one day. I've even had a few ideas, but I don't want to rush into anything straight away."

His eyes lit up at that. "Well, you can be assured the club would welcome you back whenever you're ready," he told her excitedly. "We could easily arrange for other locations to make it more interesting. Anything you want really, within reason that is."

"Oh?" she teased. "What kind of locations?"

So he went into some spiel about barns or car workshops and other places I didn't take any notice of, because I was focused on his hand and the recently acquired information of him and Chloe.

"Yes, that's right," he was saying rather proudly when I looked up. "I even have a contact with a dungeon. A fetish dungeon, I mean. Not the medieval type," he added with a dirty chuckle.

Now that really did pique my interest. "Dungeon? That sounds fun, baby," I said to Chloe who squeezed my knee appreciatively.

"Hmmm," she said. "You said other models, Pete. Do you mean other girls?"

When had he told us that? I made a mental note to pay more attention.

It was almost comical to see his eyes widen. "Women and men," he told her with yet another squeeze of her thigh. "And willing to do work with other models too, but that might be a step too far for you, dear."

"Oh I don't know," she said, stroking his hand. "It could be fun. What do you think, baby?"

I'm sure you can well imagine what I was thinking. "You know me, Chloe," I told her. I was beginning to enjoy myself. It seemed Pete really did know how to get her going. "I'm good with whatever floats your boat. It's just photos after all."

Pete was hot to trot. "If you ever wanted to do something harder than we did on Tuesday, I know a few really good models. It's hardcore, but nothing like videos."

"Nothing like videos?" Chloe teased, twirling her hair innocently.

"Well, for instance. If you modelled with another woman, there might some licking and toys, insertion and the like, but purely for the shot. As soon as the photo is taken, we'd move on."

"And if it was a male model?" I interrupted a little too eagerly, then tried to act like it was merely casual interest.

"Much the same really," he told us. "Vaginal penetration. Anal too, if that's what you want. Licking, oral and such. But again, once we've got the shot. we'd move on to the next one, so it's not full on sex, if you get what I'm trying to say. With photography," he added rather aloofly. "We try to capture or create a moment in time. It's an art. That's why some of the worlds best photographers are so well known."