This narrative is part of a multi-part story that explores the sexual exploits of a Midwestern couple who wanted a change in locale, but are experiencing much, much more.
Warning: subject matter includes cuckoldress/cuckold humiliation/cum eating/male-male contact. This story is tagged as such, so if you do not care for these types of tales, move on. You are your only enemy if you continue reading.
Those that do choose to continue, please know reading previous chapters will help you better understand the characters and their journey.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Anything depicted has no relation to past or current people and events. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over 18.
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Note from IRL Lauren: For those of you who cannot fathom what wittols crave or find pleasure in, and are disgusted by same, please do yourself a favor and skip this. Like my husband Simple, they are wired differently and you'll never understand why if you do not have those proclivities. Even they don't understand why. You've been warned.
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Sunday, April 15th
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Corey Miller groaned and rolled over in bed, trying to ignore the sound of his phone vibrating on the nightstand. He opened his eyes and reached for the device, squinting at the screen as he read the text from Lauren.
"Having brunch, be home later."
This was followed by a selfie of her and Alex Cartwright sitting on the stern of the Amarillo Sky, drinking mimosas at a fiberglass table with eggs and toast in front of them. Lauren wore no makeup and had drawn her long black hair into a ponytail. No doubt the photo was taken shortly after waking up. Shirtless, the big man leaned into her with a tongue-in-cheek grin as he pointed to the burnt orange t-shirt Lauren was wearing, clearly emphasizing the logo to the viewer. That was the most disturbing part of the whole photo.
A Longhorns tee.
It was a subtle, almost sophomoric attempt by the Texan to humiliate the lifelong Cyclones fan.
I fucked your wife and turned her loyalty too
. Corey sighed and set the phone down.
And to think he was one of the nicer ones.
Looking over at the emptiness that was Lauren's side of the bed, he realized just how woebegone he was, countered only by the reluctant arousal that had consumed him all night. A pair of stiff socks and a few crusty tissues beside him on the sheets bore witness to that. Several times he had awoken in the middle of the night only to be reminded by her absence that she was spending the night with Alex on his boat. Each time, as he lay there staring at the pebbled ceiling, his mind would wander to the yacht's bedroom. Lauren on top, riding the big cowboy; then on all fours. And each time, the graying wittol could not help but unload a great deal of semen into whatever was handy.
But now the morning had come, and falling back to sleep was no use. The image of Lauren and Alex with champagne flutes while enjoying their breakfast was seared into his brain. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he looked at himself in the mirror and winced. There was no one else to blame for the incredible amount of jealousy he felt at that moment. He had encouraged Lauren to date and even admitted that the thought of losing her turned him on. It was one of the darker perversions of the fetish, and few would ever be able to understand the bittersweet stew it manifested.
Standing under the showerhead, Corey tried to let the hot water wash away his anxiety. Where their relationship was headed was anyone's guess. Even recently, Lauren had assured him that she was going nowhere and that they were going to grow old together no matter what happened. And yet they had already broken the boundaries that most cuckold couples set to keep the marriage intact--no feelings, no overnights. What was next?
Lauren's transformation was nothing short of remarkable. In just ten months, she had gone from a reserved, devoted mother of two to a shameless, insatiable slut. She had become a woman who craved cock, who reveled in the feeling of a man's hard shaft pounding her pussy, filling her up with his hot, sticky cum.
Her body had changed, too. She had lost weight, gained muscle, and her tits seemed perkier than ever. Her skin was glowing, her hair was shinier, and her eyes sparkled with a newfound lust for life. She was a woman who was proud of her body, who loved to show it off, who loved to tease and tantalize.
She had fucked his best friend, her old boyfriend, his buddies, a bar owner, neighbors, Latino punks, women, and who knows who else? It was like she was forty-eight going on twenty-five, with no intention of slowing down. She was a woman who was driven by her pussy, not afraid to try new things, who had discovered her love of dominating and being dominated. Someone who loved to be used, being a whore to men who just wanted a plaything. And there was no indication the mature wife was going to slow down.
And why should she stop? At sixty-one, he couldn't satisfy her anymore, especially with her husband's obsession with his peculiar fetish taking over. It was a fetish that consumed. Even as he stood under the scalding hot water, he could feel the shiver of arousal coursing through him. The image of Alex and Lauren's selfie, with their wide smiles, graced by the morning sun, invaded his thoughts. He couldn't help but imagine Lauren's lips, those luscious, full lips, wrapped around his cock, contributing to the grin he now wore.
Corey leaned against the glass door, the water cascading down around his aging body. His cock twitched and began to harden, defiant against the torrent. The weight of his pudgy man-boobs pressed against his chest as he grabbed them, rolling his nipples between his chubby fingers. He closed his eyes and let out a low groan, feeling the familiar sensation of his dick growing harder by the second.
The shower stream pelted his round belly, sending rivulets of water trickling down to his groin. His cock emerged from beneath the prominent roll of blubber that marred his middle, the head peeking out of the foreskin. Corey couldn't help but stare at it, the feeling of inadequacy fanning his arousal.
"He fucked her," he muttered loudly, nodding as if to affirm the thought. "Fucked her good."
Fingers tracing circles around his fatty areolae, Corey squeezed his eyes together as the images came fast.
In the bowels of the yacht, Alex plowed her every which way. Her screaming his name and cursing her husband for having such a limp dick.
Corey grimaced as he raised his face to the showerhead, gurgling and spitting as the water choked him.
Alex on top, kissing, touching. His hips thrusting forward, filling her completely as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper inside.
Unable to resist anymore, a wet hand traveled down passed Corey's flabby belly and to his soapy dick.
Her hands roaming over his muscular back, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as they moved together until he sprayed his seed deep in her womb.
Corey's palm glistened with a sudsy lather, gripping his unimpressive cock tightly. Stroking quickly now, his fingers pulled hard at the swollen shaft skin.
"OH GOD!" Corey yelled, his cries echoing in the marble-covered bathroom.
Faster and faster his hand went, the friction between his palm and his cock becoming unbearable. And then, with an explosive surge of pure emotion, the older man's body convulsed. Hot spurts of cum shot from his glans, mixing with the water and soap, creating a sudsy mixture that hit the textured shower stall floor.
Collapsing against the side wall, chest heaving, Corey regained his composure, trying to not feel the shame that would come over most men reduced to jacking off over their wife's infidelity. He studied the last of his semen slipping lazily through the silver plate covering the drain between his feet. Was his marriage to meet the same fate?
+++++
Lauren was standing in the galley washing dishes, brushing loose strands of hair from her forehead, when Alex came up behind her and pressed his bare chest into her back.
"Do you think he noticed?" he asked, his hands gently groping her small breasts through the oversized Longhorns tee that was clearly his.
A mischievous smirk spread across Lauren's face. "Oh, he noticed."
She was sure of that. Her wearing a rival team's logo and the suggestion that she was 'switching teams' was a double entendre that her brilliant project manager of a husband would not miss.
Oh, the dagger he must have felt! Bet his cock went rock hard.
Slowly, Alex's hands found their way beneath the shirt's thin fabric, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path upwards, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. As his hands reached the swell of her breasts, he paused, savoring the moment, while his cock strained against the confines of his briefs, the tent poking the buttocks of her panties, leaving a wet spot.
"I just don't understand why he allows this. You're one fine lady."
"We've been through that," Lauren shuddered as the ex-rancher nibbled her neck. "He's got this thing."
"Yeah, I know. A
thing
."
He knew what she meant. Swinging and cuckolding were not news to the travel agent. Polyamorous resort events were not something that his particular clientele asked for, but their existence was well known. He just didn't think he'd ever be involved.
"Does that bother you?" she asked, rinsing the suds off a drinking glass.
Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his fingers graze her hardening nipples. They had fucked no more than an hour ago and the embers continued to glow. Leaning back into him, she let herself be enveloped by his body heat. The gentle flicks of his thumbs over her sensitive nipples sent jolts of electricity straight to her pussy, causing moistness between her thighs. The scent of sex filled the galley, mixing with the aroma of freshly washed dishes.
With one quick move, Alex pulled her hips tight against his crotch, then pressed her back downward. Lauren gasped loudly as he bent her over the sink, moving her panties to one side. With the other hand, he fished his cock through the fly in his shorts and guided it into her sopping, eager hole.
"I guess that's a no...ohhhhhh!"
Lauren's hands gripped the sides of the soapy sink, her face inches from the long, curved silver neck of the faucet.
