A Woman Scorned

I was curious about the hulking black BMW SUV in my driveway, but mostly irritated because its bulk prevented me from pulling my own car into the garage. I parked halfway down the block and headed up the sidewalk.

I stepped into my living room, prepared to chew out the idiot who thoughtlessly clogged up my driveway with his unwelcome vehicle, and stopped dead in my tracks, momentarily speechless.

It was confusing and surprising enough to find my demure, pretty wife of ten years, lounging on the sofa in spike heels and a tight skirt, her legs curled beguilingly beneath her, her ample breasts struggling to escape from a push-up bra beneath a low cut blouse.

But the truly shocking element was a strange man seated next to her, his arm around her, her hand resting provocatively on his upper thigh.

"Welcome home Jerry. Say hi to my new friend, Carl."

I've always had a fetish for Sherri's long, pretty fingers and painted nails, so I was stunned at the sight of them gently exploring the growing bulge in her new friend's pants.

"What the fuck is going on here, Sherri?!"

"And as for you," I screeched in a quavering voice an octave higher than intended, "Get the fuck off my sofa, and get your ugly fucking vehicle out of my driveway!"

"That's not going to happen, Barry. Sorry." How did he even know my name? I'd never even seen this guy before.

"We'll see about that, motherfucker. I'll kick your ass if you don't get the fuck out of my house, right now!" I shrieked.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly, gently removing my wife's hand from his crotch and stood. He was probably two inches shorter than me, but heavily muscled. His snug t-shirt revealed a body sculpted by heavy lifting.

He regarded me with an air of casual menace, doubtless sensing the fear and hesitation beneath my bluster. Nevertheless, I stood my ground, fists clenched at my side, ready to fight if necessary, but secretly praying he'd simply grab his jacket from the back of the kitchen chair and go away.

Instead, in an instant, he delivered a brutal and unexpected blow to my solar plexus. I collapsed in a desperate breathless heap. Still curled in a fetal position five minutes later, terror crept over me as I glanced up to see him hovering menacingly, hands on his hips, glaring down at me with impersonal disdain.

"Sherri, toss me that braid" he said to my wife.

She obligingly threw something to him, some kind of braided leather rope. Before I could move he expertly wrapped one end tight around my throat, the other looped around his hand. He flicked his wrist, somehow tightening it and simultaneously yanking me forward, so close I could feel his hot breath on my skin. I trembled from the obvious fact that he had some kind of expertise and training in martial arts.

Instinctively, I struggled with one hand to loosen the rope and push him away with the other. He smacked me hard across the face with his open hand, dizzying me, then twisting my wrist into a dangerously painful position. "If it were up to me I'd just break your arm and kick your ass, but Sherri has other ideas" he casually suggested.

As I emerged from the fog of his merciless blow, I realized my own wife was restraining my hands inescapably behind my back with an plastic zip-tie. It cut into my wrists painfully. By now, he'd pulled me up onto my knees. I descended into a deep dread at the obvious realization that I was at the utter mercy of a powerful and sadistic stranger, and my wife, for some reason, was cooperating and encouraging his abuse.

A quavering "Why?" was all I could muster.

"I know, Barry. About all the Craigslist crap."

Oh no. I fought back the urge to vomit. I've always fantasized about my sweet, pretty, demure Sherri in bed with other men. Dreamed of her cumming on some stud's huge cock. But I didn't have the nerve to directly ask her to do it; and when I hinted at things like that she just laughed and dismissed the idea out of hand.

So I started secretly running ads on Craigslist ostensibly seeking men to seduce her, promising that I'd arrange a rendezvous in a hotel cocktail lounge. In reality, I was just soliciting jack-off material by sharing hidden camera videos and photos of Sherri in the shower, half-naked as she dressed in the morning, or wearing sexy lingerie I'd buy and ask her to model.

I got off on the rancid responses from strange men to her photos and videos. I'd egg them on, lying that I'd shown Sherri their cock photos and she was dying to meet them. I'd encourage them for a while, sharing additional photos and imaginary wife comments.

Then with no explanation I'd stop answering their messages, deriving satisfaction and power from leading them on, then pulling the plug just as they thought they had a chance to bag my hot wife. I loved the pleading messages, begging for the chance to fuck my hot, sexy wife.

It went on for well over a year. I became more and more adept at hiding cameras; what started as grainy, unidentifiable snapshots gradually evolved into near professional quality porno photos.

And somehow she'd found out, discovering the ugly secret that I'd shared hundreds of photos of my deeply private wife with random, dirty, horny men. Men who might know somebody who knows her. Men who probably posted the photos on porn sites where co-workers or family might see them.

"You're wondering how, aren't you? I knew you were up to something. Constantly hovering over your laptop with that weird, sick smirk on your face. I told the IT guy in my office who constantly flirts with me that it was my laptop and I'd forgotten the password.

"It took him about ten minutes to crack it. Not only are you a sick pervert but you're a dumbass, too. What kind of moron uses 12345 as a password?

"I don't know why, but I read some of the disgusting emails. They made me sick. But there was one guy who intrigued me. One guy who called you out for being an asshole for secretly sharing photos of your wife without her permission. One guy who said he'd kick your ass if he ever got the chance.

"Now *that* guy I actually *did* want to meet, so I replied and told him all about you. His name is Carl. Nice guy if don't piss him off. Taught hand to hand combat in the Marines for years.

Suddenly I understood. With that, Sherri sidled up behind Carl, reached beneath his shirt with one hand, stroking his powerful chest, pinching and teasing his nipples, and massaging his crotch with the other hand.

"By the way, why save all the dick pics, Jerry? Maybe you're not as straight as you think? Do you look at them and play with yourself when I'm at work? Maybe we should find out about that. What do you think Carl? Maybe Jerry's a secret fag?"

I felt the bile rising in my throat again as Carl chuckled maliciously. He casually leered at me I gaped at the enormous lump in his tight jeans. I was still on my knees, too terrified to stand, Carl's crotch inches from my face.

Carl groaned with satisfaction as Sherri unbuckled his belt and reached inside his pants, pulling gently on his stiffening cock. I tried to scramble away, but Carl grabbed the lariat and pulled me forward.

Then he leaned his head back, his chest heaving slightly as I heard the dreadful and unmistakable hocking sounds of copious phlegm drawing up from the back of his throat.

"Please, no..." I whimpered.

He glanced at Sherri, raising a questioning eyebrow. She smirked and nodded. He leaned forward slightly, loudly ejecting a thick ball of mucus-laden goo with a juicy "phut." The hot, salty gunk burned my eye, sealing it closed.

"Bulls-eye!" He exclaimed. My heart sank as Sherri responded to his sadistic abuse with a malicious, erotic cackle. With my hands restrained I couldn't even wipe the nasty gunk off my face.

Then, Sherri unzipped his pants, and dropped them to his ankles. His hard cock, snapped out, slapping me across the face as it came loose from his restraining pants. It wasn't just big, it was sinister: a little crooked with thick veins up and down its nine inch length, arcing up stiffly, pointing eagerly at Sherri's luscious tits.

Then he slapped me across the face with his cock, wielding it like a club. It felt like a rubber mallet, Sherri giggling with sadistic glee at my feeble attempts to dodge the humiliating blows. She stepped up close to him, looking down at me, shaking her head and rolling her eyes with disappointment and derision.

Then he pulled her close and they kissed deeply and passionately. It tore my heart out to see her eyes close and give herself up to him.

"Lick his balls, Barry. He likes that."

"No, please..." I pleaded.

He tightened the cord around my neck. "Do as she says."

I leaned forward reluctantly, but I had no choice, and hesitantly raked my tongue over his stubbly, shaved scrotum, disgusted by the mixture of sweat and crotch stink.

"Mmmm... Yeah, that's it. Deeper..." He moaned. Sherri pressed the back of my head, pinning me to his crotch. "Lick his taint, Barry. From the anus to the balls... That's the way he likes it. Do it right and maybe he won't kick your ass."

I struggled against the urge to puke, doing as I was told.

"Uhhhh, yeah, right there. Good boy..." Carl moaned. I could literally feel his balls throbbing as I serviced his coppery taint.

Suddenly Sherri pulled me away by my hair, leaning in close. She spit in my face, then hissed "What you did was unforgivable. Did you really think there wouldn't be consequences? That you wouldn't get caught?"

"Oh, God, baby! I'm so sorry. I know it was wrong, I'll make it up to you somehow."

"You bet your ass you'll make it up to me. Right now."

"I think it's time Barry learned to suck cock, don't you Carl?"

Carl smirked and simply grunted the word "open!" tightening the lariat slightly to let me know it wasn't optional. I looked over at Sherri with pleading eyes, but was met with an expression of resolute malice.

I felt his girth forcing my jaws open, his gagging length inescapably working its way into the back of my throat. To my brief relief he suddenly pulled out.

"No teeth!" he barked, and this time it was Sherri who nearly knocked me senseless with a powerful slap to the side of my head.

"Unnngggg!" I uttered as Carl roughly shoved his big dick back in and held my head tight, deep on his shaft.

"OK, Barry. I'm going to count slowly to ten" she explained as Carl groaned slightly from the sensation of my tongue and throat, involuntarily gyrating on his shaft. "When I reach ten, we'll let you up for air and then begin again. Understand?"

I nodded wordlessly, helplessly gagging as tears streamed down my cheeks.

At the count of seven, he took pity, pulling out and giving me just enough time to catch my breath before plunging it back in. This time he held it for the full ten seconds, withdrawing it only long enough for me to briefly regain my breath and my senses.

Sometimes he held me deep and tight. Sometimes he fucked my face. Sometimes Sherri held me down till I nearly puked. But it went on and on for what seemed like an hour. Sherri encouraging him, counting slower sometimes, or pretending to lose count and starting over.

Occasionally, Sherri stroked him with a thick, vile tasting lube that made it easier to violate my throat. But the worst was looking up to see her eagerly and passionately kissing her new lover.

Carl was getting off on the dominance and clearly enjoyed the sensation of my tongue and throat stimulating his merciless cock. He smacked me across the face each time I accidentally allowed my teeth drag across his tender penis.

My jaws ached and my knees screamed out for relief against the unforgiving tile floor. Finally, Sherri quit counting, and watched from the sofa, stimulating her pussy with a vibrating dildo. To my horror, I found myself working his cock deliberately, earnestly trying to coax him to orgasm and end my ordeal, but to no avail.

I desperately tried everything to make him cum, bobbing my head up and down, swirling my tongue around his shaft, flicking it at the sensitive spot just under the head, then taking it deep again. I could feel him getting close, his powerful thighs quivering, but each time he pushed me off, guiding me back down to his swelling balls, allowing his cock to cool off a little before compelling me to suck and worship it again.

At the same time, the sound of Sherri's animal grunts and guttural moans as she came on her toy sent shivers of misery up and down my spine. Finally, I couldn't take any more. I desperately needed relief from the forced cocksucking and I knew there was only one way; obviously, there was no point in begging for mercy.

"Please Master, please fuck my wife" I pleaded. He looked over at Sherri, and she nodded in assent. He reached behind me, unbinding my wrists. As he did, Sherri knelt on the sofa, sticking her lovely ass out, inviting him to devour her body. My heart pounded with agonized desire at the sight of her delightful pussy exposed by the sheer, black open crotch stockings.

"Beg me" Carl sneered.

"Please sir, shove your hard cock in my wife's pussy and fuck her until she's completely satisfied."

Carl smacked me across the face again and sneered "Say it like you mean it, or I'll face fuck you till you puke."

I shouted, pleading with him, "Please use my sexy wife! Shove your gorgeous hard cock in her pussy. Fuck her however you want!" I was terrified.

"Guide it in" he casually commanded. "Kiss it first!" she added.

He moved over behind her, dragging me by the lariat. I crawled alongside him then kissed the head of his cock and worked the enormous head into her shaved slit. Carl held my hand there, forcing me to feel his body meet hers as his huge cock, glistening and lubed from my saliva, slid through my fingers.

He sank himself slowly and completely into her willing pussy, groaning deeply with satisfied power. Within moments the room was split by the sounds of their bodies slapping together and her grunting, potent orgasms. This went on for what seemed like an hour.

He dragged me into the bedroom, Sherri following obligingly, her heels clicking and her ass swaying in open temptation. He lay on his back and she lowered herself slowly onto his throbbing pole.

I didn't need to be told. I climbed between his legs, working his balls with my tongue, my finger sliding into his asshole. His animal groans told me that my attention combined with her tight pussy was pushing him to the brink.

Then she lifted off him, reached around, and pushed my mouth onto his bucking cock. I gagged as blast after powerful blast of choking, thick spunk shot deep into my throat from his powerful member. I felt the hot semen running out of my nose and down my chin, coughing and struggling for breath. He came in long, hot bolts, each spasm eliciting a feral grunt from deep in his powerful chest.

Finally, with one last potent surge he was drained. He pulled out, smacking me again with his still hard member as he and Sherri collapsed together, kissing and savoring the afterglow.

Later, after they showered, I toweled their bodies dry and served them drinks. Jerry's powers of recuperation were stunning, and Sherri was insatiable.

I was dispatched to the guest room. In spite of ingesting several sleeping pills, I lay awake most of the night, haunted by the sounds of their potent lovemaking, the headboard of their bed banging against the thin drywall separating our rooms.

In the morning Sherri emerged from the bedroom in a sexy, sheer gown that highlighted her perfect curves. Carl was in one of my bathrobes. They made me kneel, naked, as they enjoyed the coffee and toast I served them.

After an hour of casual chitchat with my wife, Carl stood, dropping the robe to the floor. Sherri motioned her head in the direction of his crotch. I crawled over, took it in my mouth and worked it until he was hard again. Sherri came up behind him and lubed him up. She stroked him slowly and softly, her long sexy fingers expertly working his aching cock.

I knew what was coming and I wanted to crawl away and die. But I was too terrified. Somehow, in spite of emptying his balls five or six times into my wife overnight, he was still good for seven long hot ropes of spunk. The semen burned my eyes, one long stringer dangled from my chin, another from my nose. Sherri and Carl erupted into delighted derisive laughter as I crawled away in shame and misery.

I was deeply grateful for the minor privilege of a hot shower. When I emerged from the bathroom they were gone; not a sign remained of the horrors I'd endured for the past 24 hours.

I was left alone with my misery and shame. For now.