I Don't Get You

Author's Note: PLEASE READ. This story has strong elements of cuckolding, BDSM, humiliation, AND a loving relationship between a husband and wife. If you don't believe those can coexist, then you might want to slip on by this story. At any rate, you've been warned it's in here. Lit doesn't have a "Cuckold" category or I would put it there. If you read, I hope you read until the end. I'm a sucker for kinky couples that love each other; no exception here. I hope you enjoy it.

I Don't Get You

I don't get you, Jerry.

It's not like I don't have any respect for you. I mean, obviously you've got something going for you.

You've got this SMOKING hot MILF of a wife. I'm sure Janet's probably in her mid-40's, based on our conversations and the pictures I see on the walls of fully grown kids; two boys and a beautiful blonde daughter, right? But popping out and raising three kids has only given her the curves of a hot, sexy woman. Those big breasts fill the cups of that corset, bulging out at the top to the point that those big, brown areolas are showing, especially when she gets animated and active.

And she's been active tonight, hasn't she, Jerry?

And those hips! Young guys are all about these skinny little girls now, with tiny but tight little asses. In almost 40 years of fucking, though, I've found that women with womanly hips will fuck BACK at you as hard as you give it to them, if not harder. Give me a woman with a little flesh on her hips and an ass that's shakin' from what it's takin' and I know I've got a long, long night ahead before she taps out.

At about 5' 7", she's just a little shorter than your 5' 10" if she strips off those heels, but most of a foot shorter than me. That auburn hair, as it turns out, did NOT come from a bottle, either.

For a woman with all this going on, she's got some damn sexy legs, too. Tonight, she's got 'em packaged especially for the event, with some black patent leather boots with impossibly tall heels and shiny black going all the way up to her knees. I'm not crazy about them, personally, and I'll be stripping them off of her later, because I don't feel like getting my ass and back all torn up from those spikes. But for now, they serve their purpose. And that purpose...that's what I just don't get.

Because I'm pretty sure she's sporting them just in case there was a sliver of a doubt about which of you is in charge tonight.

**********

The first way those heels (Are those five inches? How the heck do women stand in those, much less walk?!) came into play escaped me at first, but I think you know why. The height advantage it gave her over you wasn't evident because you were kneeling when she let me in the front door. Since she made you crawl behind us as we entered the living room, I missed that disparity, and having her sit me down in YOUR recliner as she straddled my legs, well, that distracted me, too. As she worked her way down my body while I relaxed in what had been your "throne", I gave you no more than a cautious glance. You can't be sure of just how a husband, even one that seems broken, will respond when he sees his woman worshiping a new, superior male. After she carefully pulled off my expensive dress shoes, slid my socks off with her small, soft hands, she kissed my bare, tired feet, even sucking on my toes.

I thought that might break you; you choked up a bit there, didn't you? Seeing your woman, the loving mother of your children humbling herself like that for a stranger; that had to twist that knot in your stomach, right? But you just bowed your head a little, lowered your eyes like a good little cuckold.

When she asked me to stand, so she could slide my pants the rest of the way down, carefully scooting them under my raised right foot, then the left, your eyes lifted for a moment. Have you wondered why she never did that for you? When she looked up at me, adoration in her eyes and a big smile on her face, she raised her hands and hooked her fingers into the waistband of my boxers, and licked her lips. I knew that wasn't just for me. She wanted you to see it, too. She wanted you to see the anticipation she had of officially welcoming me into more than just your living room. I nodded, just barely, as if it didn't matter to me if she bared my cock for her delight or not.

That's when she looked over at you and smiled. The smile of a cat that has the mouse exactly where it wants it to be, and has decided to play with it before it destroys it.

As she slid my underwear down, the waistband predictably caught on the bell end, as my cock was already rising to the occasion. She slid them slowly down, revealing inch by inch of meat that engorged even as she (and you) stared at it. Her eyes grew wide, and when the elastic finally cleared my cockhead, it gave a downward tug, causing it to bob up and down, slow and heavy.

"Oh...my...God..." she whispered, as if she were barely remembering to draw in enough air to breathe, much less speak. It felt a bit dramatic to me; I mean, obviously I know I'm bigger than most guys, but I'm not some porn freak. Erect, I'm about 8", maybe 8.5", but the girth, that's what always seems to be the draw. I'm not a Coke can; more like a couple of stacked RedBull cans. Again, not colossal, but well above average.

And, as I was to find out in a moment, way, way bigger than you.

As she gently wrapped her seemingly tiny fingers around it and stroked gently, she turned to you. "Come here, cucky. I want you to see this." As you began to crawl, she surprised you.

'"No, no; stand, and walk over here. Stand next to him. Stand next to my big bull-cocked lover."

Shyly, you stood next to me, and it was kind of funny how you naturally put your hands down in front of you to cover your...shortcoming.

"Hands behind your back!" she barked at you, and you immediately complied. I looked down, and I'm sorry, man, but I had to smile.

In her right hand, she held my manhood, which was swelling with each of her gentle, loving strokes. Her hand no longer encompassed it; her fingertips were at least two inches from touching, and I wasn't quite done growing yet.

In contrast, she grabbed your little dick between the pads of her thumb and middle finger, and wagged it back and forth briskly, causing you some concern and probably fear, if not outright discomfort.

"You see this?! You see what a real man looks like, versus what YOU look like?" she growled. "That's why HE'S the bull, and you're just the little cucky. That's why HE'S getting pussy tonight, and you're not. Hell, he can have whatever he wants tonight. He can even have my ass if he wants it," she taunted you. Obviously, that statement has some weight in your relationship; I'm taking it she doesn't give you that access. I'm glad to note that I, on the other hand, may have that opportunity. If not, it certainly won't be because I don't press that button.

Then she really drops the bomb on you, even as she drops your cock like it was a cockroach she just discovered. "As a matter of fact, I may give him YOUR ass, too. How would you like THAT, cucky?"

I don't know; maybe y'all haven't covered that idea beforehand, because the fear that instantly flares up in your eyes is real. Not what you signed up for, buddy? I think. Well, you DID tell me she was 100% in charge tonight, so...

Now, obviously, she's my first preference. I mean, the auburn hair, the green eyes, the tits, the ass, the attitude...hell, I know what MY preferences are!

But I also know that a hard dick has little or no conscience, and the truth be told, the bastard only has one eye, can't see out of it, and hangs around with a couple of nuts in dark places most of the time, so his judgment is...suspect, at best. And since I promised her I'd help her help you in exploring this cuck fantasy, well...it might be a rough night for you in several ways.

"Go get us some drinks, cuck. I've got a real man's cock to suck," she instructs you, and turns her attention to my cock. By the time you've turned the corner to go to the kitchen, she's already got her lips on the head of my cock, and her tongue is writing hieroglyphs on the sensitive head.

By the time you get back, she's worked the head into her mouth, and she's doing that gentle bobbing action they always do as they try to prepare their throats for pillaging. The reality is that I've only had two women and one cuckold husband who ever got more than half of it past their lips. The husband told me in a subsequent, private hookup that he'd been turned out by almost half of his college basketball team, and had been rather forcefully introduced to deep-throating by the 6'9" point guard. Once he mastered that, he'd been rather popular with the whole squad.

When you returned, the ice clinking in my glass (ice water only for me; no alcohol) in one hand and her full glass of Zinfandel in the other, you stood awkwardly beside me, gawking as your wife slaved over my cock, and obviously unsure of what to do with the drinks. Your wife...your wife just ignored you, looking up at me, her eyes narrow slits as she did her best to impress me with her dedication to the task before her.

Finally, never losing her eyelock on me, she reached over and took the glass of wine from you. Prying her mouth off of me with an audible pop, she took a sip, then a full drink, and yet another swallow of the wine before handing the glass back to you. Never did she give you any regard. You might have well have been a convenient end table. She took a few deep breaths, then returned to her blowjob. I think she knew she wasn't going to take it all, but she was going to put her all into the 4 or 5 inches she could engulf.

I turned to you, smiled, and took the ice water. I took a long, long drink of the water, draining most of the glass. "Thanks, buddy. You mind topping that off? Something tells me I need to stay hydrated tonight!" I couldn't resist the little dig; hell that's what you wanted anyway, right?

"Yes, sir, right away," you replied. As you set her wine glass down on the table next to her, I put both hands on top of her head and began to thrust in and out. If she wanted to submit, she'd brought the right man in for the job. I wasn't trying to get all the way into her throat, but I wanted her to feel as if I might just do exactly that.

By the time you returned to us, the gagging, the gasping, the wet sounds of a mouth being raped were truly obscene, rude even. Her eyes were flowing, her mascara running down her race, and yet every time I pulled my big cock out of her mouth, as soon as she caught a ragged breath, she was lunging forward to meet my thrust. It wasn't long before I knew I was going to give her my first load of the night.

Pulling out of her mouth, my fingers knotted in her hair, I leaned down to her. "Are you ready for my first load, my little slut?" There was no nastiness in my tone; slut was indeed a term of endearment at this point. Any woman with a thirst for my cock has a special place in my heart!

She smiled at me. "Fuck, yes! I want you to give me that hot cum! I want you to fill my mouth with your cum." I saw a twinkle in her eyes.

You should really fear that twinkle, buddy. I mean, you probably already had that figured out before then, but...damn.

Without breaking eye contact with me, she called to you. "Come here, cucky." The niceness in her voice; that should have been your first warning sign. "Kneel down here next to me. I know you've always said you wanted to watch me suck another man's cock. Come here and get a front row seat, baby." As you knelt next to her, she pulled you in close to her side. Then she looked up at me, nodded, and winked with the eye not close to you.

My hand still intertwined in her auburn locks, I pulled her back onto my cock and resumed thrusting. All the sounds and sights of her skull-fucking, they were inches away from your eyes and ears. How was that? The gagging; did you want to stop her, protect her from my savage thrusts? Did you want to spare her the debasement of the wet slurping, the drool flowing down over her chin, dripping onto her bouncing tits? Did you want to rescue the damsel in distress? You did, didn't you? I could see the conflict in your eyes as all of those chivalrous thoughts came head-to-head with the raw lust you felt as you watched her do all of this...for another man. And knowing that was going on in your head, knowing your lusts and your weakness and your need for surrender was overcoming your natural inclinations to resist; all of that just fueled my desire to take what is, or what was yours, at least until tonight.

It's nothing personal; well, I mean, I guess it is. I'm fucking your wife's face right in front of you, so yeah, obviously it's personal. But outside of this, outside of the context of tonight, well...never mind. I'm pretty sure even I don't understand it.

You can't see it because my hand is on the other side of her scalp, but I tap her head three times with my fingers, a signal that I'm about to cum. Again that wink, but you're so locked on the sight of her distended lips sliding up and down my thick cock, you're none the wiser. With a roar, I pull her head onto my cock and buck my hips, firing hot rope after hot slimy rope of my cum into her mouth. I didn't pull her all the way onto my cock, so while she swallows the first couple of shots, the rest of my full first load gathers in her mouth, pooling around and bathing my cock in its own seed. She bobs her head gently, her tongue playing in this hot mix as her hand coaxes the last of the load into her mouth. Carefully, skillfully, she backs off of my cock, cautiously guarding the copious gift I have given her.

Well, given both of you.

With her left hand, she grabs you by the back of the head, her fingers clutching your hair, and pulls you to her. Before you can even register what is going on, she has sealed her mouth against yours, and, tilting your head back, she gifts you a hot, slimy, salty snowball of my cum. By the time you register what is going on, and you try to protest, her right hand has reached down and grasped your balls firmly.

"STOP! Do NOT fight me, cucky!" she says, her lips just barely breaking from yours. I see your tongue trying to push out some of my seed, but unfortunately for you, so does she.

"I said STOP IT!" she roars at you. "You are my cuck, Jerry! MY cuck! You do what I tell you to do!" Now," she snarls, the hand that was in your hair coming round to roughly scoop all of that cum BACK into your mouth, "swallow!" she orders you forcefully.

For a moment, the two of you lock eyes, and I can see the tension. This is make it or break it. If you break out of your role now, the night is over. A solid "No" from you stops all play, per our agreement beforehand. No harm, no foul, and I walk away, thankful for a great blowjob but well shy of what we'd all hoped for from the evening and all the weeks of preparation.

The ball is in your court. I think there's no doubt that she and I would both like this to continue, but YOU are the one actually married to her. If you can't resolve this, then you need to-

I see and hear you swallow. I think you actually made a bit of a show of that, didn't you? You wanted to make sure she and to a lesser extent I both knew that you were choosing to continue this. It was like a little show of strength, a sign that you had some power in all of this after all.

The last vestige of any power you had, surrendered.

**********

It took you a couple of swallows to actually get my thick spunk down. "Open!" she commanded, and you did, showing you had complied with her order. I don't think you even realized that there were a couple of smears of it left on your chin at that point. She didn't miss it, though; she scraped it all up on her fingertip and then reached into your mouth and wiped it on your tongue. You closed your lips around her finger and she withdrew it slowly, revealing it as clean.

Her right hand slipped around my ass, pulling me slightly towards her...and you.

"Now, clean him," she directed you, pushing your face toward my wet, softening but still thick cock. "Do a good job, but don't make him cum."

I was a little surprised; I thought you might buck at this. It's one thing to be forced to take my seed from your wife's mouth, but another level altogether to submit to pleasing another man with your mouth. I thought for sure she'd have to push you harder. To be fair, I did see a flicker of fire in your eyes, but then your lips opened wide and the next thing I knew, your tongue was dutifully cleansing me.

Your wife (yeah, she's still your wife, though I'd say you were no longer on equal footing with her, at least not for the next few hours) was beaming as she looked up at me. I could see she was truly reveling in this newfound power she had over you. She looked proud to be able to serve me, even by proxy through the use of her male slave's mouth. She stood, and I leaned down to kiss her deeply, even as I began to rock gently, pushing my cock in and out of your mouth. It was almost surreal to plunder her mouth with my tongue even as I gently fucked your mouth. Her left hand came to rest on your head, and while I wasn't sure if she was applying force or not, the glint of her wedding ring from the top of your scalp spoke volumes about the dynamics of power at work here tonight.

Finally, though, I grew less interested in your services, and pushed you none too gently off of my cock, which had regained about half of its tumescence. Squatting down deeply, I lifted her up over my left shoulder as I rose, eliciting a surprised yelp from her. With a quick, brisk slap from my big right hand on her bare ass, I took off with her towards your dining room.

With her still balanced on my shoulder, I pushed a stack of envelopes, some loose papers, and a floral arrangement to a far end of the long table. Some of the papers fell to the ground, but I paid them no mind. Moving to the end of the table, I pulled back a chair with arms; am I correct that is your chair? The chair for the head of the household?

Perfect.

Squatting down slightly, I drop her bottom onto the table just in front of that honored seat. I bent down and claimed her mouth again, and she moaned into my soul as I captured her. That moan, however, burst into a yelp as I deftly located and squeezed her left nipple between my right thumb and middle finger. She gasped as I rolled it slightly, as if I were adjusting dials on an old radio. A bit of fear sparked in her eyes, and she bit her bottom lip, trying her best not to complain.

I relented just before the tears stage, and smiled at her. "That's my good slut, isn't it?"

"Y-Yes...sir."

I now had both nipples in my grasp, and squeezed them simultaneously, but not cruelly. Her hips squirmed a little, and I wasn't sure if it was an futile effort to ease the discomfort or a response to an erotic twinge in her lady bits.

The little puddle I found shortly on the table answered that question for me.

She sucked in air again, but she never lost eye contact with me, giving me a glimpse of the lust raging within her. She was fully locked in, her submission to me as complete as yours was to her.

A dominant male can sense these things; I'm not sure if you know what that's like. Probably not, just because it's not your nature. It's like an innate sense; we know when we've received that surrender, even if the submissive isn't even aware of it yet. At this point, I could have pretty much whatever I wanted from her, and I intended to fully exploit that liberty.

First of all, I really, really wanted a taste of your wife. I placed my right hand on her left shoulder and gently pushed backwards. She understood my desires immediately; again, that's the nature of these things. She carefully lay back, but only so far that she supported herself somewhat on her elbows, eager to watch my actions.