I received so great feedback from the first story. Some wanted me to make the husband more cuckold. Still, others wanted me to just throw her out and be done. One asked if I did write more, to let it just flow and either end the marriage or continue with a compromise in a nice way. I finally, after many rewrites, found a way forward. It also allows for an epilogue of sorts. This story is not wall to wall sex. I feel there is enough in there for those wanting just sex scenes and enough storyline to be a good read. I hope I am right.
Did Wife Just Become a Whore
Next Part
Saturday passed with lots of sex and conversations. She wavered, waffled, and changed her mind repeatedly. Now, part of me had enough anger to want to be mean and manipulative, and part of me wanted to let her do as she wanted and divorce her. I should have, and may still just move on and just be done with this.
But she was right. In some ways, I caused at least half of this mess. I mean, I could have put my foot down and told her not to bother to come home after she left the house naked. That most likely would have ended this. But the image of her completely naked in a black man's car with cum still dried on her and giggling and acting as anything other than the buttoned-up accountant I normally see was such a turn-on. I ignored my common sense.
I also had another chance to stop it before she put the sundress on and left. I didn't. In fact, I manipulated her into doing it. At the same time being mean to her, I also encouraged her. Telling her that if she did what I gave her permission to do, we were done. This is definitely fucked up of me, but it also shows how confused and torn I was at that moment.
It started Saturday morning for me. I woke her up still naked from the massage I had given her earlier. I told her she was still a whore since she had not made up her mind. I grabbed her by her hair and half dragged, and half led her to the patiostill completely naked.
"Kneel whore" was the first word I spoke once outside. She quickly did. She looked up at me, pouting and tears forming. I told her to open her mouth wide and stare at my face. She complied, and I then unloaded my morning piss in her mouth.
"Swallow all of it bitch, and you better not fucking puke. Remember, you are a professional now."
She swallowed and swallowed and gagged from it. She was crying. Once I finished, I told her not to move. I came back and handed her a large, clear plastic pitcher. I told her it was for her piss. I sat down in a patio chair in front of her. I told her we stayed out there till she voided and drank it all while she thanked me for being her husband and not divorcing her for her cheating.
She was full-on bawling at this point. After probably ten minutes, she squatted, adjusted herself, and closed her eyes. Her piss started pouring out.
"I am sorry, honey, for cheating. I am a worthless whore and am lucky you allow me to still be married to you." She was saying this softly as she peed. She was able to get through the sentence twice before she stopped.
"Okay, as you take each big drink of your piss, you need to tell me why, no sugar coating, no excuses. Why did you really do what you did."
She stared at the half-full pitcher and looked like she would rather sit there and not drink or talk. Finally, after about five minutes, she asked if she really had to do this. Couldn't we be civil and just go inside and discuss it over breakfast?
"It is simple, my sweet whore wife. You did not ask me or talk to me are even hint you were going to become a whore. Never entered into any conversation in the five years I have been bugging you about hot-wiving."
I went quiet and watched her as she knelt there, squirming in her discomfort and guilt. After a very short time, she lifted the pitcher to her lips and sipped in a little before gagging. I thought it weird that she could gulp it down from the tap, but this made her gag.
"Whore, if you puke, you better puke on yourself. Lean back and direct it onto your whore tits. Be careful about this; you may be forced to lick up the puke if I feel you are not truthful and honest with me."
I was amazed she held it down.
"Okay honey, I have always since, I stole my dad's penthouse and playboys from my older brother so he couldn't put them back. I started reading them and have been interested in being used and sold since. There were these hot stories of couples dating, and one of them asked if they should break up over the female selling her body. There was this one really hot story still stuck in my head and I think it is the root of why this happened. I mean, the more I dwell on this mess I caused, the more my memory goes back to it, that story." She was very emotional. I could tell by how disjointed she was.
I watched as she took a bigger drink of her own piss from the pitcher. She made some funny faces and again gagged. She did not gag as badly this time, though.
"Go on. Explain more." I told her as I watched her fight for control. She was caught between crying, storytelling, and throwing up. She did have a lot of piss in her already. I waited.