Prologue
Tom looked down at his wife's nude body, stretched out across the bed. At some point she'd turned on all the lights in the hotel room, and now her body was contoured with a wealth of shadows, cast by a multitude of peaks and valleys. There was one valley, though, that attracted all his attention. It was so mesmerizing, in fact, that his gaze returned to it again and again, even though he knew that Susan expected him to be watching her face at this moment.
He could tell by the way she pursed her lips that she wasn't happy with him. Her dark blue eyes peered out of her thin face, ice cold and disapproving. Even the way she held her body, her large breasts thrust out like a shield, her small hips tense as if poised to strike, her shapely legs quivering as if ready to snap shut like a trap. He didn't know what he'd done or not done to draw such a reaction. Maybe nothing at all. Her moods at such moments were slippery and dangerous, black ice on a mountain road. The thought of something slippery drew his gaze back down to the crevice between her legs. That would certainly describe her pussy right now.
Especially with the gobs of another man's sperm covering the well-fucked lips. It glimmered in all the light, nearly clear in some places and a milky pearlescent in others. The man had pulled out and left his entire load of jizz along the length of her slit, marking Susan as his fuck toy, at least for the night. His steaming cum had pooled up just above the hood of her clit, and run down along the cleft of her ass. And now Tom crouched over that other man's leavings and waited for his wife to give permission for him to slurp it up, pleasuring her pussy in a way few women ever get to enjoy.
If you had asked Tom a year ago if he ever thought he'd be in this position... Well, no, you would never have asked him that. Who asks such questions? Only people in poorly written porn stories. And even if you had, he'd have looked at you in shock. Sneered in disgust. And turned on his heel.
Because, on this very night, one year ago, he and Susan had been celebrating their one-year anniversary. The official end of the honeymoon, though it hadn't felt like it on that night. Though it did turn out to be the end of one thing and the beginning of something else. But he wouldn't realize that until afterwards.
Chapter 1
Tom remembered the night with a clarity that was almost transcendental. It was as if he could replay a film of it in his mind, from every angle and with full surround sound. It had started out memorable, but no more so than a few dozen special days in their life as a couple. Not so memorable that he would consciously try and remember the minutia of the evening. There was a reason, though, that the evening's events were indelibly inscribed on his memory.
They'd started out with a romantic, candlelit seafood dinner, then walked through the downtown area arm-in-arm, window-shopping and people-watching. The night had seemed magical, the conversation as sparkling as the lights. They'd stopped in at a wine-tasting inn along the main street and imbibed their way through much of the establishment's entire cellar, finding giddiness a quarter glass at a time.
On the drive home, Tom had taken residential streets the whole way, partly to avoid the roving eyes of the police patrols, and partly to tour their memorable stops from dating days. Here was the parking lot where they'd shared their first kiss. And over there, in the dark corner of that field, was the spot where he'd gotten his first blowjob from her. The memories came thick: the backseat copulations, the night she walked an entire block bare-breasted and giggling, the gropes and rubs and deep kisses in dark public corners that make up dating when neither person has their own place.
They were both hot and horny when they made it home and didn't even make it to the bedroom before their clothes were off and they were humping and bumping and rolling around on the living room floor. He took her passionately and she responded in kind, thrusting her body against his as she rode him, her big breasts bouncing freely in the twilight, her blond hair falling about his face like a curtain each time she bent down to kiss him. He came inside her, grunting mightily, and then held her close, tenderly, softly stroking the back of her neck and whispering his love to her as her body trembled and relaxed.
They'd headed to bed then, leaving their clothes strewn about the house, which would no doubt remind them the next morning of the passion they'd shared the previous night. Once in bed, Tom tried to concentrate on his book, but his eyes kept returning to Susan laying beside him. She was reading too, a book ludicrously titled "Be the Person You Already Are." His eyes, though, were drawn to the point where the top of the sheet met her breasts, a silken covering of a two silken hilltops. He was horny again, hot and hard, and ready for another round with his beautiful wife. Yet he held back. He would wait until the sheet revealed her nipples, dimpled nubs that needed a greedy mouth to stimulate them. That's when he would make his move.
He was still surreptitiously watching the sheet as it crept back to reveal the edge of her areola when she spoke from behind her book. "There's something we need to talk about."
He was so engaged in watching for the nipple to peek out that he completely missed the danger signals. "Hmmmm?" he answered, wondering how much he could subtly shift the covers in order to uncover both breasts. The waiting was getting annoying.
"It's kind of sensitive, but I thought you should know that I've made a decision."
Still half listening, and without the prescience that a long-married man would have, "Mmmm-hmmm?" was his only answer, encouraging her to continue.
"OK... well, see, it's the size of your cock. It's not big enough for me," she said plainly.
She set down her book, which pulled the sheets down off her breasts, which kept his attention there instead of on her face, which only quantified his confusion.
"Wh-wha-what?" he stammered, forcing himself to look away from her bare breasts, deliciously bare and topped with two hard nuggets, just begging to be swabbed with his wet tongue. He'd heard the word "cock," but it hadn't been followed by a plea to jam it inside her. In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, it was followed by something completely different.
She stared at him, clearly dismayed by his reaction. "It's nothing personal, Tom. I love you more than you can guess. More and more every day. But this is something that's been bugging me. It has since we met." She sat up, letting the sheet fall all the way down. This time he didn't even notice her nakedness. Now, it was as if he couldn't stop watching the shapes that her lips were making. The world had slowed down. Her lips made macabre forms. Her tongue peeked out like a snake. The words, though, never stopped pouring out.
"You must've guessed, with all the big dildos and vibrators I've bought. The movies we watch, with the gigantic cocks. The times I've slipped up, and I'm sorry about those, and called for 'More, more, more!' You must've noticed that I was screaming it."
He found his tongue. "Everybody screams that. Even in the movies." In hindsight, he could see that he'd given her a lame reply. He should've ranted. Should've raved. Could've at least ripped the sheet off her nude body and proven to her with his hard manhood that there was more to fucking than having a big cock. At least throwing her down would've stopped her from voicing her next thought.
She laughed at his defense. Sniggered, actually. Then laughed. "That just proves my point. Every woman always wants more. But don't worry, honey," she said in a placating tone, tenderly touching his chest, "I have a plan that will make it all better. For both of us."
