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/eclectic sex. 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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Saturday, April 28th
==================
Corey Miller lay in bed, staring at the swirling sand patterns on the ceiling. After what could only be described as an intensely debasing and humiliating scene, in which his fetish had been exploited ten-fold, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that accompanied his post-nut clarity.
Lately, Lauren had been turning up the heat, becoming even more brazen and resolute in her role as an enabler. At times, it felt as though she was using his proclivities to her own end, permission to be the wild girl that had probably always been there but suppressed by social norms. These days, it seemed that something darker was afoot. Something malicious. The way she casually tossed around humiliation at his expense, even when she was unaware he was around. This appeared less an act of catering to her husband's fetish and more the propensity to humiliate viciously. Like she was starting to believe it herself.
It was eight o'clock that Saturday morning when he heard the door to their apartment open and then close. Seconds later he could feel Lauren's presence standing over the bed while he lay under the sheets.
"You okay?" she asked softly.
Corey opened one eye and saw she still had on her work clothes from the night before. "Yes." He swallowed hard. "You spent the night with him." It was a statement rather than a question.
"I did."
"You seemed to be enjoying yourself."
"What was your first clue?"
The sixty-one-year-old rolled over on his side, facing the other way. "Will you see him again?"
"I don't know. He is a very good lover."
The pangs of jealousy raged through Corey's veins, which all seemed to meet at his groin, causing it to twitch. The sight of his wife riding Griffin Shultz's cock, initially covered with a condom, slipping in and out of her, had both aroused and emasculated the graying wittol, consumed by a twisted cocktail of lust and humiliation.
After starting the shower and while waiting for hot water, Lauren stuck her head back in the bedroom.
"I have to run to the office for a while to ensure a shipment goes out today. Won't be long."
Corey pulled a pillow over his head. "Don't forget we're meeting Dale and his wife for lunch at the gallery this afternoon. They've been wanting to meet you."
"I remember. I'll be back by noon and you can drive us over in your fancy new car."
The exhausted project manager murmured something indecipherable while pulling the covers up higher. He was glad to have a couple more hours of sleep.
+++++
One of the perks of living in downtown Miami was walkability, and that was never truer in Lauren's case, living just a few blocks from Rekrap Industries headquarters. As the pretty brunette walked to the high-rise office building, she enjoyed the mid-morning sun on her face and the cool breeze that fluttered the hem of a blue and white polka dot button-front dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her long, dark hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and she had a pair of sunglasses perched on top of her head, at the ready in case they were needed.
Strolling through Rekrap's lobby, she swiped her badge to gain access to the inner doors and bypassed the elevators. Instead, Lauren headed directly to the order fulfillment department. The fiberglass order that was going out that day was Rekrap's third largest order that year, and she wanted to ensure it was accurate and without issues. The new VP could have phoned this one in, checking status from the comfort of her apartment, but this one was too important to fuck up.
Together, she and the provisioning supervisor Mark Betlend huddled over the manifest as Lauren's eyes scanned the pages. She checked and double-checked, her fingers tracing the lines of text. Each item, each detail, had to be accounted for.
"Good," Lauren finally nodded. "Send it out."
Relieved there were no problems with the shipment, she excused herself, telling Mark that she'd be in her office for a bit if anything else came up. Leaning back against the wall of the elevator as it rose silently to the executive level, she sighed. Finally, an order that had gone smoothly. When the doors opened with a quiet ding, Lauren stepped out into the empty hallway. Her heels clicked softly on the tile as she walked, the only sound in the stillness. On Saturdays, headquarters was usually all but abandoned. Unlocking her office, she quietly slipped inside, to use the solitude to tackle the busy work that had accumulated over the busy week. There were reports to review, memos to draft, and emails to respond to. While she enjoyed her new position, it was a never-ending cycle of administrative tasks that demanded her attention. But today, with the office devoid of distractions, she saw an opportunity to dive in.
As Lauren sank into her plush chair waiting for the laptop to fire up, her mind wandered back to the events of the previous evening. The memory of how she and Griffin had treated Corey weighed on her. They had treated him like shit, and there was a part of her that felt a twinge of guilt, recognizing that they had subjected him to humiliation that may have been too much at times. Yet, there had been no indication from her husband that he wanted it to stop. In fact, he seemed to revel in it, finding pleasure in the degradation.
The words they had hurled, the insults that had spilled from their mouths like poison, replayed in her mind. They had been relentless, pushing the boundaries of scorn. It was as if they had tapped into a dark, sadistic side of themselves - the memory of those words echoing in her mind, each one a dagger of verbal abuse.
'It's like trying to fuck a wet noodle. I might as well be fucking a Ken doll.'
'Stop humping me like a faggot. FUCK ME, LOSER!'
'The neighbor's dog has a bigger dick.'
The vitriol of their words had been exhilarating to both of them. Corey, in turn, had willingly subjected himself to their taunts. And then he had actually licked Griffin's cum from her hand. Was he harboring deeper idiosyncrasies that she was unaware of? Had their exploration of humiliation awakened something within him? Regardless, there was something special about her husband participating in that which reconnected them in a meaningful way.
Lauren's fingers tapped impatiently on the desk as she waited for her laptop to finish booting. Finally, the login screen appeared, and she quickly entered her credentials. After a few moments, the desktop loaded, and she double-clicked on the spreadsheet icon. A large table filled with rows and columns of inventory numbers popped up, and she began meticulously comparing the figures, her brow furrowed in concentration. She cross-referenced the data against the physical inventory counts, making notes in the margins whenever she spotted a discrepancy. The monotonous work was tedious but necessary to ensure accuracy. After nearly an hour of poring over the spreadsheet, the familiar urge to pee began to creep into her consciousness. Saving her work Lauren stretched her stiff limbs before grabbing her purse and checking for eye drops. Tired and dry, her eyes needed a break.
Making her way through the quiet office to the executive washroom, she felt an eerie stillness. Almost
too
still.
+++++
Corey stood before the bathroom sink, his hands gripping the cold porcelain edge as he splashed his face with water. The cold liquid did little to quell the uncertainty that had been building inside of him since last night. He looked up at his reflection, hardly recognizing the weary-eyed, plump-faced man staring back at him. Lines etched his face and graying stubble added to his aged appearance, a stark contrast to the well-groomed man he had once been.
Where had the years gone? The couple had been so entrenched in Mainstreet, USA it wasn't even funny. They were little league soccer and softball coaches, PTA and church group leaders. There had been backyard cookouts and Friday night lights.
Vanilla as fuck.
And now? With a mind still reeling from the previous night's events, Corey couldn't shake the image of his wife's naked body intertwined with that stranger's. The problem was, he wasn't so sure he wanted to go away. The sound of their moans and the sight of them writhing in pleasure still echoed between his ears - something that every cuckold files in the 'spank bank' for later.
And after enduring a fat cock slapping his forehead, Corey could still see Lauren's outstretched hand, the milky white semen floating in her palm, waiting. He had never been attracted to men and still wasn't. Yet, something about the depraved moment had stirred his audacious side, and he felt an inexplicable urge to lap at her fingers until the semen disappeared. Strangely, it wasn't the act itself that appealed to him, it was the participation of something
with her
, as opposed to just being a bystander. Indeed, earlier that morning, he had tried to clean his wife's locket, the one Griffin had so cruelly coated with his cum. Inside, the smiling wedding pictures of Lauren and Corey had all but been ruined. Still, they had been able to experience something together. And that's what counted.
Hot water blasting, Corey pulled the plastic handle of the razor across his cheek, large clumps of shaving cream dripping into the sink. At least he and Lauren would be able to spend the day with people who still thought they were a normal couple leading normal lives, unlike many of their friends and acquaintances who were aware of their secret. The relationship with his boss was a budding friendship, and it was important to him that Dale and his wife viewed him and Lauren as ordinary.
Conventional
.
A day of fine art and no drama was something he was very much looking forward to.
+++++
