I would like to sincerely thank neuroparenthetical for taking the time and effort to review and edit this story so thoroughly. Your help has certainly made it a better tale.
As the tags suggest, this story includes themes of cuckolding and humiliation. If it's not your thing, you can save yourself some time and skip to something else.
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Sarah took her time in the shower, replaying the events of the night in her mind while hot water cascaded over her tired body. She couldn't deny how exhilarating it had all been, albeit almost surreal. She was shocked that Tom had not merely stood by while she'd fucked another man in their bed, but had gotten off on it. She nevertheless couldn't shake the feeling that she had gone too far -- especially with how she'd taunted him afterwards. She'd felt the hurt and confusion radiating off of him before she'd departed for the bathroom.
She recalled something James had said to her earlier:
"Why does it matter if you hurt him? It's not like you guys are still together."
For her, it wasn't that simple. They had separated -- though more conceptually than literally -- but she still loved Tom. She'd never meant their time apart to be the first step on the path to divorce. She sighed and leaned back against the shower wall, closing her eyes to try to dispel the memories of James' hands gripping her hips and his cock pounding into her. The latter had felt noticeably different than Tom's. She'd never really noticed much difference between how any of her previous lovers' cocks had felt inside of her, including Tom's. But James' had been different. It had felt thicker to her, filling her up in a way she wasn't used to. She let out a low moan upon recalling how intensely he had fucked her, his hips driving relentlessly into hers, the sound of their bodies slapping together echoing through the room.
Her thoughts shifted suddenly; she imagined Tom in the hallway watching them fuck while he masturbated. That image caused a fresh surge of heat between her legs, and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly while she slowly lathered soap over her breasts and down her belly. Her hand slipped between her thighs, and she slid two fingers inside herself, imagining that it was James' cock.
It only took a few moments of fingering herself before she realized it wouldn't be enough to satisfy her craving.
James is gone, but Tom is still here, and he'll do.
Her husband hadn't lasted long enough to give her the orgasm she desperately needed, even though he'd already ejaculated once before that same night. She was certain he'd last long enough on his third go-around. She could feel how close she was already. She knew she only needed to be fucked hard for a few minutes to get what she needed.
She hastily rinsed off the remaining soap, turned off the shower, then stepped out and hurriedly dried herself off. She dropped the towel and opened the door, only to find that Tom wasn't there. She'd expected him to either have fallen asleep in their bed, or to still be staring up at ceiling, wrestling with his thoughts.
Sarah once again asked herself if she'd gone too far -- which straw had broken the camel's back? She remembered what she'd done with her panties when she'd left him and glanced around the bed and the floor, curious if he'd tossed them aside in disgust. They were nowhere to be found.
Hmmm. Maybe that's a good sign.
Her aching need for release outweighed any guilt or concern for Tom's feelings at that point. She padded out of the bedroom and down the hallway. She quietly opened the guest bedroom door and saw Tom asleep on top of the sheets in just his underwear. Her eyes trailed down his body, her gaze finally resting on the bulge tenting his boxers. Next to his pillow were the missing panties, and she couldn't help but smile to herself.
Sarah crawled carefully onto the bed and straddled him, slowly positioning herself over the tent in his underwear. Tom didn't stir. She slipped her hand inside of his boxers and gently wrapped her fingers around his cock. A pleased sigh escaped her lips as she felt it pulse in her hand. She fished it through the opening of his boxers and positioned its head against her entrance, teasing herself for a second before sinking down onto him in one swift motion.
Tom jolted awake at the sudden sensation of his wife's warmth enveloping him. "Oh fuck!" he cried out as Sarah began to ride his cock with rapid, deliberate thrusts. "Jesus fucking Christ!" His hands moved to her hips instinctively, and gripped onto them hard.
Sarah's eyes locked onto her husband's with a fiery intensity as she began to ride him harder and faster. Each time his cock slid in and out of her pussy, her body shuddered with intense pleasure, her tits bouncing wildly. She threw her head back and moaned louder, her nails digging into Tom's chest as her orgasm approached.
Tom's hands slid up her sides, finding her breasts and squeezing them tightly.
"Oh god!" she cried out as he pinched her nipples roughly between his fingers.
"You like that, Sarah?" he growled, bucking his hips upwards, impaling her even deeper.
"Mmmm hmmm," she squeaked. Her eyes were already heavy. She nodded as though she were underwater, making no attempt to hide her pleasure from him.
She grabbed his wrists, forcing his hands up above his head, pinning them to the mattress on either side of his head. Her breasts swayed enticingly in front of his face. He tried to lift his head to capture one of her hardened nipples in his mouth, but she denied him, leaning down to kiss him deeply while her hips rocked back and forth.
Sarah groaned into his mouth as her orgasm crashed over her, her hips bucking wildly. Tom sucked on her tongue, their moans muffled by their intense kiss as she continued to ride him, her pussy clenching around him.
Finally feeling sated, Sarah slowed her thrusts and sat up, her hands on Tom's chest as she began to grind against him. She smiled down at him with an air of self-assurance that told him that she was in complete control -- and more besides. It told him that she didn't regret what she'd done, that she didn't feel that she owed him any explanation for her actions, and that she hadn't required his permission, either; she'd fucked her coworker, in their home -- in their bed -- and she'd enjoyed every delicious second of it. It went without saying -- or otherwise expressing -- that she knew that Tom had watched it happen, and that, in spite of whatever jealousy or humiliation he felt, he'd gotten off on it.
He saw in her eyes one final message, pointedly communicated. It was one that filled him with a mix of dread, anguish, and exhilaration:
I'll do it again whenever I fucking feel like it.
Sarah slowly lifted herself off of him, letting his rigid cock slap loudly against his stomach. She slid down his body, resting her hands on his hips and leaning forward to drag her tongue up his length, never breaking eye contact. Tom sucked in a deep breath, letting it out in a low moan as she slipped her lips around his head. Sarah ran her tongue along the underside of his shaft before swallowing him back into her hot, wet mouth.
Then without warning, she stopped, pulling her mouth off of him with a slight pop. She got off the bed and stood, looking down at him.
Tom groaned. "What are you doing?" he asked, the desperation clear in his voice.
"That's all for tonight," she said with a coy smile. "For some reason, I feel really worn out."
Tom felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He scrambled to sit up. "What? But I didn't finish."
