* Inspired by a particular scene from the Neighbor Chronicles by AvidNoviceReader. I've gone off in my own direction. Fair warning, the next chapters are fucked up, deviant, raunchy and have no redeeming qualities. They're also wicked unapologetic fun.
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Amy was upstairs in the master bedroom, doing her hair and make-up at the vanity when Jake walked in. She saw him in the mirror and smiled.
"Hey Sweetheart," she asked. "Everything set for the Pool Party."
"Yeah," he said coming up behind her. "Liquor is delivered. Supplies are in. Caterers are setting up."
She nodded.
"How many are coming?"
"Counting wives and husbands? Twenty four. Maybe twenty-seven."
"So many!" She turned to Jake. "That's a lot. Do we have enough room?"
Jake bent down, cupping her breast in her red dress, teasing her nipple ring, and tried to kiss her.
"Jake! You loser! Stop!" She pushed him away, laughing. "You'll wreck my make-up."
She turned back to the mirror and lifted her platinum blond hair. "Here," she told him, "kiss the back of my neck instead. And you can play with my boobs."
He did as he was told, his lips and tongue on the back of her neck sent him giggling, He unfastened her neck clasp and the tops of her dress fell away. His greedy hands cupped both bare breasts, his thumbs and forefingers pulling hard on her nipple rings.
"Asshole!" she laughed. "I didn't say you could to that!"
"You told me I could play with them," he whispered in her ear. He looked over her shoulder, kissing her neck, staring into the mirror, watching himself handle them. She stared too, entranced by his lust.
"They're magnificent," he said.
"They should be," she told him. She reached up to stroke his hair, smiling. "You paid for them. A lot of men have gotten your money's worth out of them... Cuck."
After a moment's pause.
"Really though," she said. "Do we have room for that many?"
"Oh yeah," he said. "Pool and back yard. Living room, rec-room, kitchen. We can manage everyone."
Jake and Amy had done very well. Jake had run his own company for a while before being bought out with a very generous offer. He'd gone to work with the new company as a Project Manager. They weren't rich, by any means. But they were well enough off to afford a McMansion with a pool and a three car garage. Or to throw catered parties.
"That's a lot though. Do we have enough bathrooms?"
"We can use the upstairs bathrooms if we need to," he said.
"But upstairs is off limits?"
"Well normally," Jake said. He nuzzled her bare shoulder.
Amber smiled into the mirror, watching her husband molest her, his hands warm and delicious groping her artificially perfect breasts.
"That's a lot of people to wrangle. We might be very busy," she said. "Too busy."
"Caterers," he mumbled, nibbling her skin.
Impulsively, despite knowing it would wreck her half complete make up job, she nuzzled against him, and kissed him. He returned the kiss passionately, pushing his tongue against her closed lips. She pushed him away.
"Down boy!" she said. "You're cut off, remember?"
Ever since they'd scheduled the party, months ago, Amy had been slowly, carefully, but relentlessly putting the screws to her husband. The first to go had been blow jobs, those had ended.
After that, she had relentlessly cut away their sex life. First sex with condoms only, to reduce his pleasure. Then longer periods between, growing more infrequent. Then a strict schedule, still more infrequent and now increasingly inconvenient. Then a time limit on intercourse, increasingly short. Amy's responsiveness declined, until on their last sex, she'd spent most of the five minutes scrolling on her phone. Finally, a month ago, she'd cut him off completely.
Of course, cutting Jake off sexually didn't mean that Amy denied her sexuality. The more she cut him off, the more provocatively she dressed around Jake, often going naked. She watched porn in front of him. At night, when they went to bed, she'd get out one or more of a variety of vibrators. He shaved her pussy regularly for her.
Jake was not immune to these displays. He'd been allowed to masturbate. But slowly, she put the screws to that as well, cutting back on opportunities, putting him on an increasingly difficult schedule, and finally, cutting him off completely, only a week after sex had ended.
Although, once or twice she relented and had given him head. It had taken an incredible amount of begging and no small degree of humiliation to get her to suck his cock. But it had been absolutely worth it on both sides. The thing with sexual torture, Amy believed, is that you had to throw a little reward in now and then to keep Jake sparking and hoping.
And the truth was that she loved Jake passionately, with her whole heart, without limits or reservations.
"I hope so," she said. "I've really been looking forward to this party. I so need to get fucked by a real man with a real cock. I don't know how much longer I can wait."
"I don't know," she told him, speaking into the mirror as she stroked his hair, "if I can wait for the next opportunity to cuck you. I might have to just give up and fuck your pathetic little cock instead. Wouldn't that just be a crushing disappointment! I'd feel like such a loser."
"Oh I think you'll do fine," he said. "You'll get fucked hard. Maybe even by a couple of guys."
She laughed sweetly.
"Tell me again who are our candidates."
:Mmmm," Jake said. "Well there's Tyrone. He's in accounting. Middle aged. Keeps to himself. He's actually okay, I kind of like him. But he's black."
"Ooh!" she whispered. "Hung?"
"He's black. Has a thing for blonde white girls."
"Nice."
"Then there's Clive," he said. "Foreman. Combative asshole. We're always butting heads. Reckless. Sloppy. We don't get along. He'd give his left nut to tap my wife."
"Intriguing," she purred, making a mental note. When she'd married Jake, sex had been normal. But she'd sensed something off with him. His sexual history had been peculiar, a succession of girlfriends, all of whom had sooner or later betrayed him and slept around. His lovers had inevitably relegated him to second place, and eventually, abandoned him.
Slowly, carefully, with patience and acceptance, she had teased his secrets and insecurities. Jake was a natural cuckold, there was something in him that felt deeply unworthy, that needed another man to take his woman. But there was more to it. Jake craved humiliation, he didn't just need a man to take his woman. He needed an enemy to do it, a man he disliked or despised, a man whose conquest of his wife came with gratuitous cruelty.
Jake was the most wonderful man she had known. But he was a battered and wounded soul. Amy wondered sometimes what had happened to make him this way.
"There's Peter," he said. "We're at the same level. Company rivals. He's kind of a jerk. Micromanager. Full of himself. His team hates him. I invited him. Also, ugly fucker. Thinning greasy hair, fat, sweaty, hair on his back. Total slob. He's had sexual harassment complaints, I hear, but he's always made them disappear."
Amy's pussy clenched. Peter sounded absolutely repulsive, physically and personally. If he fucked her, he would absolutely try and use it against Jake. The things Peter might do made her skin crawl.
But there was more - due to some deep flaw in her nature, some past experience buried so deep she couldn't even trace it, the idea of a fat, hairy, ugly man gave her tingles. Her pussy was actually wet.
She didn't say anything, but Peter moved to the head of the line.
"Oh," Jake said. "And he's hung. I was next to him at the urinals once. Jesus Christ!"
Amy kept her expression carefully neutral, but her pussy got wetter.
"Colin," he said. "Tall skinny, face like a hatchet. Ugly birthmark, purple blotch under his eye. Awful breath. Upper management. Predatory asshole. He might not show though. Peter might not either. But I invited them both."
Amy nodded.
"The last one is Danny."
"I've heard that name?"
"Probably because I've been complaining about him since he came on board. Punk kid. Completely full of himself. Nonstop screw up. All kinds of attitude. I'd fire him in a minute, but his Uncle is connected in the company. Some sort of major shareholder, or partnership interest."
Amy shrugged.
"What's he look like?"
"A fucking pipsqueak," Jake said. "Ninety pounds soaking wet. Big nose. Crooked teeth. Somehow he thinks he's god's gift to women. He's got a sadistic, toadying streak, always sucking up. But you just know, he's the type to pull wings off of flies. He makes my skin crawl."
Amy shuddered. Playing with Jake would definitely be taking one for the team. She didn't know if she could go that far.
