Prologue
I stared at the over-sized computer monitor as if transfixed.
On the screen in front of me, a strikingly pretty blonde dressed only in sheer black hold-up stockings and high heels, was bent over a large, expensive hardwood desk in a large, expensive wood panelled office. Her feet were parted wide, her hips were flexed and her naked bottom with its dark, damp cleft was presented brazenly.
Behind her, between her long, spread legs stood an older, unattractive, overweight but expensively tanned man, fully naked from the waist down. His left hand rested proprietarily on the woman's bare left buttock, while in his right hand, he held the shaft of a long and impressively thick erection, the tip of which he was rubbing up and down her slit as if searching for her entrance.
I watched in horror and amazement as he found his target, grinned lasciviously then, with a crude, almost animal look on his ugly face, thrust his hips forward hard.
The woman's body tensed, and a high-pitched yelp escaped her lips as the man's erect penis penetrated her body. Her head was fling back and her mouth opened wide in pained surprise, as the swollen head of his mighty cock was forced into her slender body from behind.
Her knees buckled for a moment, and her hands tightened on the desk's rounded edges as she sought to steady herself against the huge, invading phallus. Encouraged, the man grabbed the blonde by her hips with both hands, and in a single powerful thrust, drove his long, thick cock deep into her vagina.
The woman's body arched as she was forcefully impaled, her belly was bent downwards, her hips thrust high, her back arched as if trying to raise her vulva to meet the rapidly invading shaft.
The camera angle switched, and the woman's pretty face filled the screen. Her eyes were closed, her features contorted in a mixture of pleasure and pain as the ugly, fat man began to thrust in and out of her body, fucking her slowly but in strong, confident strokes that built rapidly in speed and power.
His rhythm was relentless as he slammed into her, his pudgy hips slapping noisily against her firm, pale buttocks. Low female wailing from the computer's sophisticated sound system filled the room where I sat motionless, spellbound; completely unable to tear my eyes from the compelling images in front of me.
The blonde was being fucked hard and expertly, her head rising and falling with every second thrust, her long blonde hair falling over her pretty face, all but obscuring her strong, distinctive features. Behind her, the fat man was taking his time, clearly in charge, his own passion and arousal kept tightly under control as he thrust repeatedly and rhythmically into the woman's vagina.
This would be no quick wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am screw. The tanned man knew how to fuck a girl and was doing it well -- very well if her rapidly-increasing arousal was anything to judge by.
The camera angle changed again, this time showing the mating couple side-on.
The man's rounded paunch was hanging grotesquely over the woman's taut buttocks. His belly wobbled with each purposeful thrust of his hips but despite this, his monstrous erect cock was clearly visible beneath his shirt tails each time he pulled it from the girl's moist, open cavern.
Her arousal was mounting even more rapidly now, her blonde head lowered until her long hair hung close to her small breasts. Despite the difference in their ages and fitness, she was clearly tiring.
Undeterred, the speed of the man's thrusts increased further, his fingers digging deep into the woman's slim hips as the wet, slapping sounds grew louder. Her face contorted, her eyes blinded by lust were open but seeing nothing.
His pace increased once more, this time accompanied by a series of hard slaps from the palm of his chubby hand on her bare, bony buttocks.
Smack! Smack Smack!
The sound of flesh striking bare flesh filled the room.
Then with a loud moan, the pretty woman raised her head until her closed eyes pointed to the ceiling. A moment later a long, low wail filled my ears as a powerful orgasm ripped through her slender, athletic body.
"Oh my God! Oh Jesus!"
The woman's voice was hard and coarse, barely feminine, twisted by the first wave of a mighty climax. She began to pant noisily, her arms trembling as the man's flabby hips slammed into her buttocks relentlessly, his pace quickening to match her arousal but still entirely under control.
"Oooh! Oh Yes! Oh, fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck meeee!"
A second, much stronger wave of orgasm washed over the blonde's body; still the ugly man maintained his unyielding, unforgiving pace.
The woman was completely out of control now. I watched in awe as her mouth opened wide, her knees gave way and her whole body began to twist and writhe as she came and came, harder than I had ever seen a woman cum before.
"Mmmmmnnnnnnnggghhhhh!"
The woman was all but incoherent now, her body no longer hers, entirely at her lover's mercy. I watched her arms begin to buckle and her long blonde hair fall over her face as a third and still more powerful wave of orgasm robbed her of speech entirely.
Sensing her complete surrender, the man hissed something in a language I couldn't understand. The camera angle changed once again to bring me face to face with the monstrously climaxing, totally unresisting woman's expression. Her stunning, deep blue eyes were open wide in astonishment, her mouth twisted, first wide open then tightly closed in an ugly grimace as she came wildly and helplessly silently in front of me.
My cock was rock hard in my pants as I stared at the image on the screen; at the beautiful young woman being brutally and expertly fucked by this fat, ugly man; the woman who even now was being totally overwhelmed by her orgasms; the woman who had reluctantly taken on the role of whore that she now played so very, very well.
The woman that I called my wife!
Chapter One
I was sitting in my Boss's office in a well-known firm of Accountants and Management Consultants. Let's call it 'Sandersons'; I'll keep the real name to myself.
To all appearances I was like many young men in the City of London; well off by most peoples' standards, fairly good looking though I say it myself, and successful, with all the trappings that success involved. I had a large, detached house in a desirable village, two Mercedes cars, the membership of the right golf club, two attractive young kids, a dog and to crown it all, a stunning, trophy wife.
You see young men like me in bars and restaurants around London every weekend, talking to each other while their wives discuss fashion, shopping and their children's schools.
The big difference in my case was that Amanda was a trophy wife only in her stunning physical appearance. In every other respect, she was a very long way from being the kind of bimbo so many of my colleagues seemed to desire.
Indeed, the very word bimbo was an epithet she hated more than anything else in the world. Amanda viewed the name Mandy as the ultimate bimbo appellation and throughout her entire academically brilliant life, had firmly requested anyone unwise enough to use it in front of her, to refrain instantly.
So what possible chain of events could have led to me sitting there that fateful July morning watching a recording of my lovely, highly intelligent, formerly faithful wife being fucked half senseless by an ugly, fat man who was almost a stranger to us both?
The story is a long one, and to begin properly we need to go back to our College days to understand both my wife's extraordinarily strong character and my own lamentably weak one.
Intellectually very much my superior, Amanda and I had met in our first year at University and had taken an instant dislike to each other. I was studying English Literature; one of very few boys in that department and consequently the focus of a great deal of female attention. This I adored, but it made me rather self-satisfied and spoilt. To make things worse, I was blessed with my father's good looks and attractive personality too. Unfortunately, modesty came a lot later, which was partly the reason for my downfall.
Bright eyed, intelligent and with a jaunty, almost rakish demeanour, I had attracted a lot of the girls on my course and in the Hall of Residence where I lived in during my first year. I had bedded a good number of them too, though in one of the few good decisions in my life, I had made it a rule never to 'kiss and tell'.
Amanda was studying Psychology at the time. We met through mutual friends and I was immediately struck by her extraordinarily good looks. Tall, slim and blonde, with small but firm breasts and legs that seemed endless, she was a permanent fixture in the University hockey and netball teams which kept her in great physical shape.
She was exceptionally bright too, and really loved her studies whereas I only tolerated mine. As a result, she was expecting a strong, First-Class degree, way ahead of my hoped-for Upper Second.
But what struck me most when we met, were her extraordinarily deep blue eyes which she would fix on me during the few, but highly animated conversations we had. As well as being devastatingly attractive in themselves, they gave her an aura of mystery, as if her mighty intellect could see right through me, judge my deepest motivations, and find them wanting.
I deeply hoped she couldn't actually read my mind; the thoughts I was having about her were very far from pure and intellectual, but I did my best to appear the perfect student.
Unfortunately, this almost psychic ability also made her immune to my seductive charms, as my complete lack of success in getting anywhere near her panties amply demonstrated.
