The Cuckqueans Contract Ch 04

The weather is still kind of balmy in California, even though it's supposed to be getting colder. That's just as well since Gina told me to dress for a day out, but I'm even more concerned that she told me to pack a bag for an overnight stay.

Not for the first time, I dread what this weekend will entail for my dignity. I want to believe that Mr. Walgren wouldn't fuck me in public, but given what this couple has already made me do for their pleasure, I wouldn't put it past them. I don't even want to imagine what they have in store for me during my overnight stay.

I show up at the Walgren's mansion wearing a flared burgundy midi skirt with a white crop top and heeled sandals, squeezing the strap of my travel bag as I ring the doorbell. Gina greets me wearing a black one-piece halter neck dress with a hem stopping halfway down her thighs and a pair of heeled sandals similar to mine but in black.

"Right on time," she greets me with a smile.

"Good morning," I answer politely.

Gina opens the door wider for me and I step over the threshold and enter the house. I notice that her chestnut hair is all done up in a low side ponytail with waves hanging over her shoulder, making me wonder if I should have done more with my own hair.

"Leave your bag in the master bedroom," she instructs me, "then come straight back down."

"No sexy outfit for me to change into this week?"

"Not yet," Gina replies, picking up a set of car keys, "you and I are gonna shop for one."

A day of shopping doesn't sound so bad, even if it is with Gina. I trudge up the stairs and find my way to the master bedroom, pushing the door open carefully as if I'm sneaking in. There's no one there, and I put my bag down on the armchair, the same one Mr. Walgren sat in while I rode his cock while wearing that fetishy cheongsam.

I hurry back down the steps as fast as my heeled sandals will allow and rejoin Gina.

"I guess Steven won't be joining us."

"God no!" she replies with a laugh, "No man wants to be dragged around while the ladies spend hours clothes shopping. Besides, he has no eye for fashion unless it involves business suits."

That's a huge relief. "Alright," I say aloud, "Ready when you are."

***

The Lamborghini I spotted when I first visited is Mr. Walgren's car, and he's taken it to go to whatever business meeting he has on a Saturday. Mrs. Walgren takes me in her SUV, making me ride shotgun while she navigates the Saturday traffic.

The atmosphere in the car is weird. Mrs. Walgren could order me to strip naked or sit still while she puts her hand up my dress at any time, and I'd be contractually obliged to obey. Right now, though, it feels like she's my mom taking me dress shopping for prom.

We sit in silence most of the way. She doesn't even turn the radio on, which makes me wonder what kind of music she likes. I have more important questions to ask her, though.

"What specifically are we going to buy?"

"Nightwear," Gina answers as she navigates a roundabout, "preferably a negligee for you to wear tonight. Don't think we'd let you sleep in our bed with pajamas."

"I'm surprised you'd let me sleep with anything on at all," I mumble to myself.

"Presents aren't as nice unless they're wrapped first."

More silence prevails in the car until I nerve myself to ask another question.

"You mentioned last time that me getting pregnant is a 'when', not an 'if'."

"That's right."

"Are you really OK with another woman having your husband's baby?"

Gina doesn't answer me. The look on her face is inscrutable, hiding whatever reservations she might have behind a mask of concentration as she focuses on the road.

"How many other women has he fathered children with?"

"You'll be the first he gets pregnant by contract," Gina answers evasively.

"So, he has other kids out there? They must cost a fortune in child support."

"A fortune to you is peanuts to us." There's a faintly hard edge to Gina's voice when she speaks. "He can fuck as many sluts as he likes and still afford to support them as they raise his brats. I'm still the mother of four of his children, the only one he truly loves, and the only one with a diamond ring on my finger to prove it."

I keep my mouth shut for the rest of the drive. That little speech and the tone of voice she used when delivering it is a goldmine of information.

***

We arrive a few minutes later at a huge mall and Gina parks the car not too far from the entrance. The two of us exit and strut towards a huge shopping complex with our shades on and handbags slung over our shoulders as if we're two best friends having a girls' day out.

It's actually lunchtime, so Gina leads me straight to the food court where we find a place that serves custom sandwiches. She orders one with bacon and grilled cheese while I get a simple chicken salad, then we find a quiet corner and eat together in silence.

As with all my meals with the Walgrens, conversation is minimal. Gina and I don't have a lot to say to each other unless it relates to how I can best fulfil the terms of my contract. Still, it'd be nice to talk about

something

when we're out together.

Once we've finished lunch, Gina takes me to the underwear store. I feel like a child being led around by her mother. I'd much rather go see a movie and maybe buy a new dress, but Gina is the one calling the shots, so we arrive at the underwear store and go to the nightwear section.

I get the feeling Gina is a repeat customer here when she immediately picks out a selection of negligees that barely go past the waist. Several of them are translucent, and a few of them have an open front to expose the belly. Naturally, one of her choices is designed to look like a sexy kimono with oriental floral designs.

"We'll come back for the underwear," Gina informs me, handing me an armful of nightwear, "but honestly, a simple thong is all you'll need for most of these."

She then leads me to the changing rooms and claims the biggest one. I'm disconcerted -- but not at all surprised -- when she joins me in the changing room and locks the door. She's going to watch me get changed and try on each set of clothes; because of course she is.

"Let's try the kimono design first." Gina makes the suggestion as if we'll both be trying it on.

I obediently start stripping, and she waits patiently for me to strip down to my underwear before handing me the pseudo-kimono negligee. It's easy enough to put on, and I do a couple of poses in the mirror. It actually looks pretty good on me; it would look even better with sexy lingerie.

"Those cotton panties are hideous," Gina remarks disdainfully, "but at least the negligee looks good. Take it off and try the next one on."

We spend the next twenty minutes in the fitting room together. After what the Walgrens have made me do for money, I no longer feel embarrassed about getting naked and sharing a private space with Mrs. Walgren. At least she's not body shaming me.

"I think these three look great on you." Gina points to the kimono-style negligee, an open-front babydoll in black, and the light-pink slip. "We're definitely getting the kimono-style one, and Steven will love the one that opens in the front, but the slip is also great."

Of course, she wants me to bare as much skin to Mr. Walgren as possible, and ensuring that the hem is as short as possible makes sure that he can stick his hand up there and grab my pussy whenever he wants to. I'll say this for Gina: she knows what her man likes.

"Wait here," Gina orders me as she collects the unwanted outfits, "I'll be back."

She unlocks the door and leaves with the outfits draped over her arm, and I shut and lock the door in case someone else walks in by mistake. I'm not even sure if the store allows more than one person in each fitting room, but I'm sure Gina would give the staff an earful if they tried to stop her ogling the younger Asian model her husband prefers to fuck.

That moment of tension in the car returns to my mind. The first time Gina mentioned that I was prohibited from using birth control, her exact words were that her husband getting me pregnant was a matter of when, not if, and there was nothing in her voice to suggest she had a problem with that. But in the car, I managed to extract the first sign of vulnerability from her.

I'm wondering how hard I can safely push Gina's buttons on that subject when a sharp knock on the fitting room door startles me. Think of the devil, and his wife will appear. I unlock the door and Gina reenters with a selection of thongs in colors to match the outfits she selected.

"I got these in the same size as the lingerie I bought for you before, so they should fit you just fine; and if not, I can get you something from my own wardrobe."

"Do you like accessorizing your husband's sex toys?"

A look of mild confusion passes across Gina's face coupled with some irritation.

"All this money and effort spent making another woman look pretty for Steven so that he can have his way with her while you watch; when was the last time he fucked you like that?"

Gina's expression of confused annoyance immediately gives way to daggers in her eyes. I give her a hard stare back, hiding my fearful feelings behind the best poker face I can manage.

"Put your hand up my dress." Gina's instruction causes my poker face to falter.

"Why?"

"Because I fucking told you to, you slant-eyed bitch," Gina growls at me, "now put your hand up my dress until you can feel my crotch."

I grit my teeth in anger at the racially charged insult, clenching my fists as if I'm going to punch my pseudo-benefactor's wife. My thumping heart is flooded with adrenaline and my limbs are trembling due to the suddenly impending confrontation.

But I signed the contract, and so I comply.

I extend a quivering hand towards Gina's crotch while she glares into my eyes until my palm is resting on the inside of her naked thigh. She hardly reacts as I slide my fingers up the inside of her leg until I can feel her underwear. There's a damp patch in the crotch.

Gina opens her mouth as if in silent pleasure before speaking again. "Now pull my panties to one side and stick your fingers inside my pussy."

Reluctantly, I do as instructed and pull the fabric out of the way before worming my fingers inside Gina's vagina. My cheeks are on fire. The embarrassment I feel is an order of magnitude greater than having her watch me try on sexy nightwear.

"Get right up in there. All the way up to the knuckle."

Gina spreads her legs wider to help me, resulting in my chest squishing against hers. Our lips are so close to actually touching that a small part of me wants to do it, if only to disarm that dagger-eyed look she's giving me, but her breasts are so much bigger than mine that the cushion they create actually stops that from happening.

I worm my index and middle fingers up inside her vagina all the way up to the knuckle, just as ordered. It feels warm and wet in there. In fact, it doesn't just feel wet. It feels kind of...sticky.

"Now pull your fingers out and look at them."

I remove my fingers from inside Gina and hold them up. They're covered in her feminine juices as well as a gooey substance that looks kind of milky white.

My cheeks turn hot enough to toast marshmallows on when I realize what it is.

"When was the last time Steven fucked me?" Gina asks rhetorically, baring her teeth at me like a she-wolf, "Early this morning."

She doesn't need to say anything else. She's made her point.

"Now lick your fingers clean and lets go."

Gina watches as I place my cum-covered fingers in my mouth and slowly suck them clean. Her husband's cum tastes slightly salty, and I swallow the substance and grimace at the taste while she readjusts her panties and gathers up the sexy thongs I'm going to wear.

"Be a good girl and carry the rest of the clothes with you."

"Yes, mistress," I reply with a dash of irony.

***

Steven is still out of the house by the time Gina and I return from our shopping trip, so we drop off the new outfits in the master bedroom. Gina starts removing her own clothes, seemingly ignoring me as she does so while changing into athleisure.

Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, either, I grimace with envy at just how good she looks in her forties. That toned body, her snatched waist, those Venusian hips and curves, that busty chest of hers, and all after four pregnancies. Steven is a profoundly lucky man.

As soon as I think that thought, I realize how naïve it is. Mr. Walgren isn't lucky to have Gina because luck almost certainly had nothing to do with it. He's a wealthy man who feels entitled to buy or take whatever he wants. If anything, Gina's lucky to have him -- probably.

"Did you bring any yoga clothes?" Gina asks me.

"No."

"Oh well, you'll just have to do it naked."

Naked yoga? That sounds enticing in theory, but less so when it's mandatory, especially if I'm going to be the only one participating with no clothes on. Gina's standing there expectantly, so I hastily undress myself while she watches. She then leads me out the door and down the stairs.

I realize that after multiple visits, I still haven't seen much of the Walgrens' mansion. I've seen far too much of the master bedroom as well as the living room and dining room, but Gina leads me to a door at the other end of the house, ushering me inside and down a set of steps.

Knowing this couple, I'm terrified that she's leading me into some kind of sex dungeon, but it turns out to be a spacious home gym with a rack full of dumbbells, a multi-purpose squat rack, and a workout bench. The gym is also temperature controlled, which I really appreciate since I can already feel an outbreak of goosebumps across my skin.

Gina grabs a pair of yoga mats and lays them both out side by side.

"I'll walk you through my routine," she informs me, kneeling on one of the mats.

I kneel on the other mat and mimic her as she goes through some basic stretches. I used to do yoga in college, but as a jobless graduate I couldn't afford to keep doing classes after college. It's nice to be able to get back into it again.

"Now, let's see how flexible you are."

Gina bends effortlessly into downward dog while I try to coax my body into the same stance that I used to be so good at. I have to keep my head turned so that I can see what my instructor is doing, and she pushes her body down and forwards in a burpee. I try my best to do the same, but my arms burn with the effort, even though I'm ultimately successful.

We go through a full routine of stretches for the next fifteen minutes until Gina is satisfied. For my part, I feel a lot more relaxed and limber, and doing it naked actually feels kind of liberating. If we could do it outside on a warm spring or summer's day, that would be even better.

Gina picks her mat up and puts it down next to mine, making sure that they're aligned. "Sit on your ass with your legs straight and open wide." I do as I'm told, half-wondering if she's about to teach me a new yoga stretch, but somehow, I doubt it.

Gina positions herself behind me so that she can embrace me from behind. She places her legs on either side of my body while making me lean back into her embrace. I breathe deeply and try not to wriggle as she brings one hand up to my modest-sized breasts and the other down to my crotch, stroking my dark bush and making me consider trimming it back.

"I'm only attracted to men, by the way."

"So am I," Gina replies, brushing my hair away from one ear.

"What? So, you're gonna fondle me to remind me who's boss?"

"Something like that."

Gina idly plays with my pussy while expertly teasing my nipples in way that elicits little breaths of pleasure from my mouth. There's no point in resisting. I'm under contract to make my body available to the Walgrens, so for the sake of my financial future, I may as well enjoy it.

"About fifteen years ago," Gina says softly in my ear, "my oldest had just had his first birthday, and I got back from a visit to the gynecologist. Steven usually works late or at odd hours to get his various deals across the line, so it was weird to find him at home in the afternoon."

I have a feeling she's about to confide something deeply personal and vulnerable to me, and I keep my mouth shut even as I wonder why she would entrust me with this story.

"I walked into the bedroom and caught him fucking the babysitter."

Ouch.

"She looked a lot like you," Gina continued, sounding almost wistful, "except she was Chinese American, and at least Steven mounted her on the carpet instead of our marital bed. They didn't even notice me at first. I just stood there watching Steven's ass moving up and down, pumping his big cock into that little slut's tight little Asian pussy until he came inside her."

This is suddenly incredibly awkward in a way that doing naked yoga and being contractually forced to share my body for debt relief isn't. Gina seems relaxed, though. She teases my nipples in a way that sends little shivers of pleasure rippling through my chest.

"I thought I should be angry at him, and part of me was," Gina confides, her other hand teasing my clit, "but the weirdest thing of all is that I was actually turned on by what I was seeing: my husband balls-deep in a much younger woman, dominating her body, threatening to fill her with his seed, which is exactly what he did; and there was so much of it."

"Is that why you hate me?" I want to see how deep I can probe. "You think I'm a threat because Steven has a fetish for Asian women?"

"I don't hate you," Gina snorts derisively, "and you're certainly not a threat to me."

"In the car, you were annoyed when I asked about kids Steven fathered with other women," I point out to her, "and then in the fitting room, I asked about the last time Steven had sex with you, and you made me stick my fingers inside,

and

you were racist to me. In fact, you've been a lot more racist towards me than Steven has been, so I think you

do

see me as a threat."

There's a long and ominous pause, and for a moment I'm terrified that I've overstepped.

"You know, you're absolutely right," Gina confesses, and this time she really sounds wistful, "I'm 99% certain that Steven wouldn't leave me for another woman, but that one percent worth of doubt is the insecurity that makes our marriage so successful."

"Making your partner jealous and upset is the secret to a happy marriage?" I respond skeptically, "my parents are still together after 25 years and they never got that memo."

"If on some level you're not afraid of losing someone, then you don't truly love them. There's definitely a part of me that fears losing Steven, and even though you may not see it, part of him fears losing me, too. That's why being a cuckquean turns me on so much: within the boundaries that Steven and I agree on, it's exciting to see him claim another woman's body whilst knowing that I'm the only one he truly loves."

For a moment, I have no answer to that statement because I'm absolutely floored by it.

I take a breath and ask the obvious follow-up question: "Has it ever gone the other way?"

"Have I ever been with another man? Hell no," Gina replies emphatically, "as the father of my four children, Steven is the only man good enough for me. Besides, being the alpha male that he is, he doesn't like to share his toys."

Gina abruptly releases her hold on me and stands up.

"Are we done?" I ask, turning around and standing up.

"Why? Are you starting to like naked yoga?"

"I thought for a moment you were gonna masturbate me to an orgasm to assert your dominance or something." It sounds almost silly when I say it aloud, but Gina looks intrigued.