George and Emily's First Experience

NOTE: This is a story told in the Alphia Corporation Universe.

In a forthcoming chapter, Sam is going to have a heart to heart conversation with George Smith about The Arrangement and what Sam and Carrie can expect. George and Emily have their own backstory and experience... and here it is.

This is going to be a two part tale...

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George Smith paced nervously in his bedroom. His wife was looking in the mirror and tilting her head to put in her best pair of earrings, but she spared a glance at him and smiled.

There was an excited glimmer in her pretty green eyes, but this time her excitement was not for him.

And that made the moment much more intense, exciting and humiliating. The excited grin and hellaciously sexy look on her pretty face when he slid her barely there thong panties onto her was seared into his brain.

Emily was in the La Perla thong that Jamal had selected and instructed George to buy for the weekend. George had picked out the lingerie. For Jamal. This was the first time that Emily had allowed George to see her in it.

"It's not for you, honey," she had grinned at him as she ducked into their bedroom and locked the door, her iPhone already in hand and Jamal's confident face on the screen.

The door closed on Jamal's quiet, confident chuckle and Emily's excited and nervous giggle. George felt left out of something important, and very personal. He stood staring at the door for a few moments before tearing himself away and trying to concentrate on something other than his humiliation and his growing desperation for orgasm relief.

It did not work very well. His wife was modelling the sexy clothes that another man had required George to purchase for his pleasure.

"La Perla thong," Jamal had told him, "That is good slutwear. Whatever else you think she will be hot in. I like a thong on a slut, cuck, but it don't really matter. Your wife won't be wearing them long."

And that was almost a week ago. The kids were safely at Emily's parents' home for the weekend. Lying to his father in law that he was taking Emily away for some private time had been just part of the process.

The frustrating, amazing and deliciously humiliating process.

It had been an exquisite three months since he had first made contact with Jamal. A week later, he and Emily were talking on the phone almost every day, thick as thieves.

"He's really hot," Emily had said to her husband as they cuddled in bed after the first video chat. George had not been invited into the chat, and he was desperate to know what she and Jamal had gotten up to.

"Oh, yeah?" George breathed, rigid with desire, suppressed so that he did not take any affirmative action that seemed too eager. Emily did enjoy teasing him.

"Yes, definitely," she said, running on beautifully manicured finger down her husband's chest. "And he showed me his cock. Holy... My God! It's Huge!"

"Jesus Christ," George breathed.

Emily giggled again and pushed her red locks from her beautiful freckled face to give her husband a clear look. "I don't know if it's going to fit in me, but I am absolutely ready to try."

"Oh honey, I love this so much," George said, releasing his pent-up breath that he had not realized he was holding. "Thank you so so so much!"

Emily kissed her husband and hesitated. George frowned at her, concerned.

"Jamal explained that he is very... dominant," she murmured, a combination of excited and anxious as to her husband's response.

"What does that mean," George immediately asked.

"Ummmmm, he explained that he fucks married women all the time, and he's learned how to avoid having a difficult situation with the husband who might change his mind halfway through."

"Oh, I would nev --".

He stopped as his wife put a delicate hand across his mouth. "Honey, he told me you would say that, and he told me to tell you that this is not his first rodeo."

George's eyes were wide. He nodded. His cock was incredibly hard and yet he felt so small, in so many ways.

"He really got me turned on, honey," Emily said, removing her hand, and giving her husband a look of excitement... with a touch of concern. She paused again, briefly. "He said that there are a number of conditions before he will fuck me, and we have to agree to all of them or he won't come."

"Come... what?" George sputtered.

Emily giggled at her unintentional double entendre but then nodded. "If we do this, he is going to fuck me here, in our home."

George felt his mouth drop open.

"What? Holy shit! This guy has some...", he stopped himself because he was going to say balls, but that seemed pretty obvious. "Ummm, nerve."

Emily nodded her pretty head excitedly. "Oh, so much. So so much. It is so hot, and I want to fuck him, bad."

She looked at her husband, pleading for his permission.

George caught her gaze for a moment, and then chuckled and shook his head as he bent to kiss her. "For you, honey, anything."

The bright grin that had blossomed on her lovely face was a bit frightening in its eager excitement. "Jamal said you had to either by tied to a chair during, so you couldn't interfere, or you had to be caged for a long time before get gets here."

He hadn't even known what a cock cage was at the time. He and Emily spent that night looking through websites and examined pictures of different versions. The entire time he had been transfixed, incredibly aroused and horrified at the concept.

And terrified that he wanted to try this.

Yanking himself back out of memory lane he gave an involuntary shudder as warring emotions collided within him. He had been caged for two months now. Well, two months, three days and almost six hours. The exact moment of his caging was very well known to him.

"George, honey?" He heard his wife's voice and turned to her.

Emily was preening in the full-length mirror she had had him install in her vanity on her side of their bedroom. He trembled with pent up unquenchable desire.

He could barely think. It felt like the fatigue brain during a 10k race. "OK, I've been holding a 7:30 pace for 4 miles, so that means my next 17 miles I can do in 3 minutes. Wait... I don't have 17 miles to go... how fast was I going? Oh shit, I have no idea what the fuck, my brain is broken!"

"Honey, what do you think?" Emily was turning this way and that, the light blue negligee flaring distractedly from her thighs, and her breasts moving delightfully under the flimsy silk.

"Jamal made me buy that... she is in the thong that Jamal picked out... Jamal is going to fuck my darling wife... Jamal is going to take my place inside my wife...".

"Honey? Hello?"

He snapped his head out of his cum soaked brain sexual reverie.

She had been to the beauty parlor earlier in the day and had had her luscious, thick red hair done is a lovely wavy hairdo. But now she was gathering it up behind her, and with one hand holding it in a ponytail tight to the top of her head, her engagement ring diamond peeking out as her hair moved slightly in her hand.

As she moved her head from side to side, the diamond earrings displayed in each exquisite ear, the ponytail came down to the top of her back. She was, as George recognized every damn day, the most beautiful woman he had ever met.

"My hair looks so much better the way the parlor did it," Emily said, giving her husband a look, "but do you want me to put it up in a ponytail, so you can watch better when I suck his cock?"

She blushed from a combination of embarrassment and excitement. George appreciated that she gave him a quick smile to try to lessen the sting a bit.

He smiled at her, tensely, but still with his own level of excitement. "You mean when you suck his huge cock?" He asked, stressing the huge with a smirk and roll of his eyes.

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea," Emily thought to herself, looking forward to the moment when her husband saw the size of the cock on the man he had picked out for her.

Emily gave her loving husband an arch look. "Yes, when I do that, so what do you think?"

"Oh my God," George muttered, closing his eyes. He was losing focus on the situation with the pressure, anxiety and excitement of the moment building. "How many times do you think he's going to... cum?"

He opened his eyes, embarrassed that his comment was made out loud.

"Oh, honey," Emily's laugh tinkled as she looked at her husband and his stricken face. "As many times as he wants, wherever he wants, darling!"

"Oh fuck," George muttered, closing his eyes to try to get his brain back to the present.

Emily gave her husband a sardonic look and said to him, seriously, "My darling, this IS going to happen. You need to be able to deal."

George took a deep breath.

He closed his eyes for a long moment and gathered himself.

"Jamal warned me of this," George admitted to Emily, with difficulty.

"Oh?" Emily grinned. "Do tell!"

"He warned me that in order to be truly cuckolded, I needed to be truly in love with my wife," George recalled, with some embarrassment. "I assured him that I adore you and love you with all of my heart. He told me that there must be an element of pain to it for me, but that was part of what I was going to find was so deliciously humiliating."

"Oh my," Emily said, a hand to her mouth. "That's really... I don't know why, darling, but you being so... intense and jealous... it makes me so hot."

George put his head in his hands. "Oh fuck, jesus christ... this is too much... I don't even know what to think."

George felt his wife near his side and he looked at her.

She was smiling at him and holding out a piece of black material. He recognized it as a hair scrunchy.

"You're going to do great this weekend, and so am I," she said, gently stroking his cheek. "Put this in my hair, my love. Jamal told me that he has fucked a lot of married women... but I am going to make him forget about all of those other sluts. I am going to be the eagerest, sluttiest hotwife he has ever, ever had. He is not going to be able to get enough of me."

Humiliation, shame, arousal... the combination of emotional forces exploded in George's brain and he felt himself flush with the eroticism of the entire experience. His cock strained against his cage, fruitlessly. His balls were burning with need for release.

"Oh my God, honey, please let me cum... I need to cum so badly!"

Emily paused a moment and gave her husband a look of sympathy. "Oh honey," she said, looking up at him and laying a soft hand on his cheek. She gave her husband an excited smile. "You know that's just not going to happen."

She watched her husband close his eyes and tremble slightly. He opened his eyes and she saw his gaze be drawn to the beautiful necklace and the small gold charm that hang between her breasts. The key to his cage was in that charm, and these days George could not take his eyes off it.

She saw her husband's gaze fixate on the key and she smiled.

"Honey, I am going to cum so hard... so many times, fucking Jamal," Emily said sweetly, looking up into her darling husband's lust crazed and anguished eyes. "And Jamal... oh God he is going to cum... and cum... and cum. I am going to make certain of that."

She stood on her tiptoes and gave her husband a peck on his lips. "But you are not."

She thrust the hair scrunchie out to her husband with a stern gaze that said, brooking no opposition: "Pull yourself together, George!"

George gulped, nodded once and took the piece of black fabric from his wife's lovely hand.

She looked up at her husband with a knowing smile.

George stood, transfixed with anxiety, worry, lust, concerned that his brain and balls were going to explode.

Emily drew her husband head down to hers so that she could whisper into his ear. "My love... this is going to be an amazing weekend. We are both going to learn so much about ourselves, and this lifestyle. You are going to do wonderfully, I just know it."

"But...," George whimpered, "It's too hard... difficult. I can't take it, I need to cum, honey, Please?"

Her husband's neediness was complicated... it was incredibly exciting to see her darling man so desperate, but it was also difficult to deny the man she loved what he so clearly needed. Silently she thanked Jamal for helping her with this dilemma.

Towards the start of the negotiations for Jamal's conquest of her, and of her soon to be cuck husband, he had warned her that she would face this. And he had also warned her that if George were uncaged or allowed to cum from until after he had fucked her, he was not going to go through with what she so desperately needed.

And what George wanted. She reminded herself of that as well. As bewildering as that seemed to her sometimes, he most definitely wanted this to happen.

Jamal had put her in touch, anonymously of course, with an experienced hotwife whom Jamal was also fucking. "She is my regular slut," he had told Emily, and a tingle had gone through her body at that. Jamal was going to make her his slut... so deliciously naughty!

This anonymous experienced hotwife had given Emily some invaluable advice:

"Oh darling, you are about to have the most amazing sex of your life! I am so jealous. The first time in the hands of a truly experienced and hung dominant bull... Oh my God!"

The call, through Google Hangouts, had been exquisitely exciting, and Emily had rushed to her bedroom stash of toys and gotten herself off five times with her favorite wand as soon as the conversation had concluded.

"There is an arc to caging your husband, honey," the confident sounding wife had explained to Emily. "At first it is a fun, kinky game. Then it becomes to be really, truly challenging for your husband and he will whine and complain. This is where it becomes challenging for you, because you love your cuck and you don't want him to suffer. But you have to be firm and to push him through it. At some point, it happens to all the cucks, he becomes docile and accepting, as though he finally understands that it is only by submitting that he will have any chance to cum. Watching my husband fixate on the key, swaying between my breasts as I am truly fucked by a bull... that is so unbelievably hot."

"No darling," Emily said, wagging a finger in her husband's face, recalling the conversation and the advice. "No way. Not a chance. And if you ask me again... at any point this weekend... I am going to keep you locked up for another two weeks, at least, after Jamal is done fucking me this weekend."

George nodded.

Twenty long minutes later, George and Emily were in the kitchen. Emily was buzzed and excited, bouncing around prettily, checking her phone every few moments.

The phone dinged and she snatched it up eagerly, totally missing the expression that crossed her husband's face. "Oh, he's here!"

Emily trembled in her light blue sundress, slutwear beneath.

A moment passed and Mr. and Mrs. Smith stood, transfixed, in their kitchen. Emily was clutching her husband's hand so tightly that her knuckles were white.

George felt a surge of arousal, deep shame at the arousal and he trembled. Jamal's voice came back to him, as it had thousands of times since their single conversation.

"Cuck... you've been in the cage now for a month, so you are ready to hear this. You are going to see some shit you have never seen before. Your gorgeous wife is just a cumrag to me, and you are going to watch me as I use her like a dirty slut."

George was in a state that he could barely move, the feelings of inadequacy, of shame, of sexual arousal at levels he had never before imagined. "She has to know," he thought to himself, for the umpteenth time, ashamed all over again that he had not ever told his wife of the conversation.

He had intended, many times, to let her know what Jamal had told him, but each time he worked up the courage he saw his lovely bride, his best friend and lover, the mother of his children tuck her lovely red hair behind her ear, or give that cute frown when the kids did something wrong, and he stopped. Her being naturally feminine was intoxicating. He blushed bright red as he recognized -- again -- that he wanted to see Emily treated like a slut.

"And I want to be a cuck...", George marveled to himself. "Maybe because they locked me for over two months and... Oh Fuck, I NEED this. My wife needs this."

Emily squeaked as there was a knock on the door. She stared at her husband, eyes wide, and not moving.

George gave her a wry smile. "Sure, sure, you want this... but when it gets real...?" He teased his wife gently and walked over to open the door.

Jamal was well over six feet tall, in a black leather jacket with Ray Ban sunglasses pushed up on the top of his shaved head.

"Hello," Jamal said politely, offering a large hand.

"Ummm... hi," George replied, "come in, please."

"Thank you," Jamal replied. He was polite, but there was a look in his eye that said, 'I know what is going to happen later.' The dichotomy between his polite manner and the look in his eye gave George a thrill of... something. It was scary, and wonderful, at the same time.

Jamal's eyes looked past George and down the hall to the kitchen, where Emily stood, her hands twisting nervously together. She was framed in the doorway, the lights from the dining room to her left and the kitchen island out of sight to her right, gave a soft glow to the room and lit her beautifully.

He smiled confidently down at George and then his eyes slid over to Emily and he nodded appreciatively. "That is a beautiful woman."

George could hear his wife gasp behind him. He felt himself flush.

Jamal handed George a bottle of Laphroaig 16 as he stepped into the house.

George's mouth dropped open, but there was nothing more from Jamal as he moved into the hallway and down to the kitchen where his prey was standing, her hands now in two nervous little fists at her sides, her eyes wide and her mouth partly open.

George almost stumbled as he turned back to her from closing the front door that Jamal had left open. His wife in that state was the most beautiful and erotic creature he had ever seen in his life.

By the time George got to the kitchen, Jamal had Emily. He was holding her at arms-length, turning her slowly without saying a word. George could see his wife panting, her face blushing red with excitement.

She lifted her lovely face towards the handsome stranger who had taken over the room. Her lips were slightly parted in the universal female request for a kiss.

He took her tiny face in his hands, gently touching her neck and her chin. He was moving her and moving his head to properly inspect the wife he was about to despoil.

Jamal gave her a slow, half-smile. "A half-inch, neat," he said as he gazed into Emily's eyes, not looking at George.

Emily gave a pretty frown of confusion. George must have stammered something because Jamal turned his head, looked down at the whiskey bottle, forgotten in George's hand, and then let his gaze travel up to George's face.

"Oh, right," George said, comprehending all of a sudden, and he went to the cupboard for two lowballs.

By the time he got the whiskey opened and poured, Jamal had George's his wife in his arms. He was cupping her pretty face with both of his hands again. The black of his skin stood out so starkly against the creamy white of her neck and face. He was murmuring something to her and she nodded, staring up into his eyes.

He gently passed his thumb across her lips and she instinctively opened her mouth but he did not take advantage. Instead, he finally bent his head down to hers and Emily Smith almost leaped into his kiss. She threw her arms around the much larger man and he easily picked her up, his arms wrapped entirely around her body, her feet dangling almost a foot off the floor.