Message-ID: <2966eli$9708150946@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern) Subject: ASS:My Sextoy Wife by Jul 4 1944 2/2 (wife, aultery) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <19970815104101.GAA25799@ladder01.news.aol.com> ASS:My Sextoy Wife (wife, adultery) 2/2 Contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity. Do not read if underaged or disturbed by such things. All comments addressed to the author will be welcome My Sextoy Wife 2/2 by Jul 4 1944@AOL.COM "He grabbed me by my right shoulder and pressed me against the counter," she said, demonstrating by gripping it herself. "Then he began playing with my ass." She said it so matter-of-factly that it was stunning. I remembered the bruise she had on that shoulder one night long before when she was getting ready for bed. I had asked about it at the time. She said it had been from a bump against a doorway. The bruise had lasted for days. I got a chill, a shiver. She had lied! "Wasn't there anything you could do?" I stammered. "Couldn't you .?" "He was really strong," she said, looking searchingly into my eyes for a quiet moment. Then it was as if she had made a decision. "And besides," she added, "it was starting to feel good." "Y-you mean you just gave right in?" I asked weakly. "No," she responded. "I struggled, but he was just too strong. I tried to get out of his grasp but I couldn't. I tried to keep his hands away but I couldn't. Before I knew it he had me down on the kitchen floor." I listened, shaking, horrified, fascinated as she described what happened. He had both her wrists in one powerful hand, her arms pinned beneath her body on the floor. He forced one knee between her legs, then began reaching up her dress with his free hand. She tried to close her legs and forbid access, but she couldn't combat his strength. She tried to reason with him, but he persisted. "I begged him please not to, I'm married," Alicia told me, "but that only seemed to make him more determined." She paused again, looking at me and certainly seeing the pained look on my face. Then with what seemed a momentary triumphant look, she said, "and he finally got to where he was going." I sunk into a state of helpless despair as she continued, sparing me nothing. She described how he began rubbing her crotch, how in spite of herself she found herself responding to his persistent fingers. "I was trying to say no, but you know what I get like when I start feeling good," she said bluntly. (Oh, God, yes I did!) "I guess he could tell I was horny. We hadn't had sex in several days. He could tell I was beginning to love it. And I knew I was ready to really get off." She told me how her resolve (and her muscles) weakened and she couldn't even try to keep her legs together. She described how he worked his fingers beneath the elastic bands of her panties, how they found her slit, soaking wet with pleasure, how they stroked her while she lost her grip and the pleasure began to overwhelm her, how they probed and teased at the opening to her vagina, then plunged inside. "His fingers started going a mile a minute, and I started going crazy," she said. "I had my first orgasm in about two minutes, and I let him know I was having it, too. He said I turned him on like crazy with my screaming. He even let go of my hands because he knew I wasn't going to be able to fight him anymore." I remember her tossing her head defiantly then. "I sort of tried, but it was no use." She kept it up, as relentless in her blunt description as her lover had been in his pursuit. She told me how she put her newly freed hands to use, digging into his back and shoulders as he continued fingering her to another orgasm. It was when he stopped fingering her to undo his pants that she tried to resist again, but it was futile. He reached down, then unzipped his fly, undid his belt, then his button and reached inside to free his cock. And all the time using his body and other hand to control the twisting moaning begging housewife on the kitchen floor. For a moment her smugness subsided. Looking away, she said, "Oh God his cock was so big." She said she was almost afraid of it, so much longer and even thicker than mine. Until then, I had thought all the wind was out of my sails, but when I heard that, I really deflated. She saw the look on my face. She seemed sympathetic and said "I'm sorry, honey, but it's true." She told me how he went back to fingering her while he moved his body into position to mount her. She told me how his fingers made the pleasure start coming in waves again, and how she "started saying all the wrong things." "L-l-like what?" I stammered. "Well, I talked about being married and how it would devastate you, and begged him to stop, but the mention of me being married just seemed to excite him more, she said. "He told me later it really turned him on to know he was fucking another man's wife." "And then there was something else," she continued. "When I knew it was hopeless and it was going to happen, I said "you're going to make me do everything, aren't you?" He told me "yes," and he said it gave him ideas and made him go further than he might have gone." There's no point in describing my feelings. They were a train wreck. She ignored them, relating that when he entered her, it felt both ecstatically pleasurable and annoyingly uncomfortable at the same time. "He was too big. I didn't like the pressure," she said. "I've always liked you better." But pressure and all, it still gave her pleasure and she got into it with abandon. She said she couldn't help it. "My resistance went to jelly when he pushed inside and started really fucking. My hips started pushing and my legs fell open wide and I started getting wild. I finally let go and began kissing him back, and I started really fucking him, too. I had a couple more orgasms," she sighed, "then he came in me." God she was so blunt. She had more details to hurl at me, too. "He only came a little bit, and he stayed hard," she said, comparing him with me, who came a lot and went limp for a good while. It was another thing she liked about me, she confided: the wet feeling it gave her inside and how much she loved it. I guess there had to be positives to keep her coming home all that time. But I had to hear about Gary's endless erection and their continuous fucking, until he was ready to come a second time. "Then there was something else he decided he wanted me to do," Alicia told me. Oh, no! Oh, no! I knew, I feared, what it was. "A-and . did you ." my voice trailed off. "Yes, I did," she said, quietly, looking down in her lap. "I didn't have any choice. I didn't have any resistance left. He made me do it. Just like he said he would, because . because he wanted it anyway, and I had given him the idea to get it all. I didn't want to. You know how I used to feel about that." Oh God, used to? Used to? My mind was swirling, fearing what her words meant while she continued. "He was so strong," she repeated. "He just worked his way up my body and started pushing my head down. He had to grab my wrists again and twist one arm behind my back and under me, because I was trying to get away. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head into his crotch." Incredibly, she took my hand and placed it in her hair, acting out for me how he had pulled her head down into his crotch. Even in my state of shock, her actions caused me to get an erection. She rubbed her face back and forth across my crotch, reenacting what he had made her do. "I tried to turn away," she said, "but he rubbed his cock all over my face and in my hair. He was rough." I should have known it would come, but this was like a sudden knife in the heart. This was the one place where our sex life had always been a disappointment to me. She just didn't like doing it, and it had been years since it had happened. She had always claimed to be selfish, not wanting to waste my best ability to give her pleasure on oral sex. "I want it to be fun for me, too," she would say. Oh, how I envied the guys who were the recipients of regular (or even occasional) oral sex. And now I was about to learn that at least one of them had gotten it from my wife. She continued her story. His forcing her head down into his groin became a turn-on for her, because it was covered with the powerful musky aroma of their arousal and mating. She loved those smells, and would often touch herself, then wipe her finger beneath each of our noses whenever we made love. She said it excited her and enabled her to get into the experience and the pleasure even more. The aroma began to overwhelm her senses as she felt and watched his cock brush over her nose and lips and ears and cheek and chin and into her hair, which clung to its stickiness. With one hand, he held her head in place by her hair, while he went back to fingering her with the other. "I was just helpless again," she almost whispered. "I was getting off like crazy. I knew what he was going to make me do, and it suddenly just seemed to make it even more exciting. I thought about you at work, and me at home on the kitchen floor, being raped by another man, and he was going to make me do something I didn't do with you, and I don't know why but it just gave me such a rush. I never had that feeling before, being forced to do something against my will, knowing it was about to happen, feeling the anticipation, Knowing I couldn't resist, knowing it was sex, and it just turned me on. I started thinking again he's gonna make me do it, so I gave up and stopped trying to turn away, and I let him force it in my mouth." At this point I felt an incredibly strange combination of feelings. My stomach was turning in agony, but I also felt a surge of erotic fascination, and my erection was harder than ever. I felt so defeated, and yet there was something deliciously exciting about the pain. My breathing was labored, as though I were having sex with her myself. She looked at me with what seemed a momentary flash of understanding. "See what it feels like?" she asked me. But she really had no idea how complicated those feelings were. She took a deep breath of resolve. "I started this, and I'm going to finish it," she said. She told me how she had to grip the base of his cock so he didn't choke her by pushing it too far down her throat. She marveled at how his demeanor changed once he was inside her mouth - how he changed from an aggressive bull to a purring tomcat. She felt him relax, and could sense him experiencing a kind of reverie. "It suddenly occurred to me that now I was in charge," she said. "His pleasure was up to me. He could get his way, but my attitude could spoil it for him. I began to realize it wasn't just you. Men really want it bad, and they're attracted to women who do it for them. Gary was just like you. I got the idea maybe all men are like that, and maybe that's what they really want from a woman." "So I decided to have my little secret, too," she continued. "I thought what the hell and I made my mouth as soft and wet and cozy as I could and let him go to work. You didn't know it, but my mouth was sore for the next week. He was fingering me so good I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I was so turned on I started to want what was going to happen. I started using my hand to jerk him and help him get off. I could feel him begin to tense and he started really groaning and I knew he was going to do it, but I didn't flinch." She hesitated for just the briefest of seconds, while she glanced at me. No shame, no guilt, just bold brazen truth. "It was probably just a coincidence," she continued "but maybe not . I had an orgasm while he was coming in my mouth. I felt it squirting in there on my tongue and I was trying to scream I was so hot and I was thinking I've really done it, I've really sucked another man's cock all the way and Michael doesn't know. I didn't know it at the time, but those thoughts of cheating on you and having secrets from you got mixed up in the pleasure, and they began to go together for me." Oh, God! As the sordid details of her oral experience piled up on me, I felt that strange mix of feelings continue to stir inside me. As she detailed her powerlessness, her degradation, her surrender, her orgasms, my erection grew harder, even as my stomach turned and my hands shook and I felt so weak and sad. I was breathing deeply, as though I'd been running. Rather than just hearing words, I began to visualize her on the floor, her skirt pushed up around her waist, her panties down around one ankle, her blouse unbuttoned, her hair in the grip of this man, her legs spread, his fingers dancing inside her cunt, his hips thrusting forward and jerking back, over and over, his cock going into her mouth, deep and back, deep and back, over and over, over and over, and the moans and the grunting, oh their wild animal sounds as they mated, and her, my wife, my wife, getting off on it, giving in to it, going crazy on our own kitchen floor, pulling and tugging on his cock as it nestled in her mouth, going from fighting it to wanting it to happen, to helping make it happen! At the same time I was hating her for her betrayal and experiencing the humiliation of a husband whose wife has become an adulteress. But, perversely, I also felt a kind of exhilaration, almost like I was in free fall with the ground rushing up at me and my anger seemed to drown in a desire to hear more, to learn more details, to be stung with the whole graphic truth. And, most perversely, I felt an inexplicable urge to jack off, just imagining it, just imagining it. Oh, it really, really happened! I felt like I was experiencing some altered state of consciousness. I felt numb, and my ears were ringing. I was gasping, enough for Alicia to ask if I were all right. She again laid her head in my lap, and there was no doubt she could feel my arousal along with my pain. Oddly, instead of revulsion and shrinking away from her, I began stroking her shiny blonde hair and caressing her shoulder with my shaking hands. Oh, my Alicia! Lying there, she told me the rest of that first story. How he finally came (his tiny amount) in her mouth, how she wouldn't swallow, but spit it out. How he told her that seeing his cum running out of her mouth and down her cheek and neck in a little gray-white rivulet was one of the sexiest things he'd ever seen. How he went back to her cunt and they fucked once more, until he had his third orgasm inside her. "And then," she said, so matter-of-fact, "it was time to get the kids lunch." He let her up and she straightened herself out and Gary went into the living room while Alicia rounded up the girls and fed them lunch. When lunch was over, the kids wanted to go back outside. "So they went outside, and Gary and I went to bed. I let the kids skip their naps. They thought it was a treat." She was silent for a moment, then inserted the dagger. "It was a treat for all of us . except you." She decided to call a halt to it then, saying she didn't think she ought to tell me any more that night . except for one important thing. "I have to communicate this, because you need to get used to what you're going to hear." "I want to do something for you," she said. When she had begun telling me the last details of her mouth fuck, she had begun softly and tentatively caressing my crotch. I guess she noticed I was hard, so she had to know in some way what she was telling me was in some way exciting. "Did you like my story?" she asked, I guess referring to my obvious erection. "I didn't think you would." "I-I . I don't know," I murmured. "I thought you'd be more angry. It's almost like you knew." It was a simple remark, but one that bespoke a heightened level of experience and sensual awareness. It made me shiver. And it made me harder. I stroked her hair as she leaned her head back against my chest and began working at my belt and pants. I could feel her breathing begin to intensify to match my own. Everything seemed to become deathly quiet. She reached inside my fly and pulled me free. She began stroking me, caressing me, her head moving down closer and closer. With one hand on her head and one on her back and shoulders, leaning back against the sofa, I stroked her in return. I guess she knew by then that guys would do anything, put up with anything, maybe even tolerate anything if they thought they could get their cocks into her mouth. She had just revealed what I already feared was the tip of an iceberg of betrayals and lies, and yet as her head descended into my lap, I wanted to be in that mouth again myself. Even as I continued to shiver with the shock of her revelation, I was intense with anticipation. Or was she going to make it the final blow and tease? What I got was much worse. First, she said one last thing that hit like a slap. "I guess you know what I've been doing. You've waited for your turn long enough." And within seconds of her mouth enveloping me, I knew what she wanted to communicate. As I felt myself slide deeper and deeper into the soft snug warm wet cocoon that was her mouth, as I felt myself touch the back of her mouth and the entrance to her throat, as I felt her nose bury itself in my pubic hair and her mouth resting at the very base of my cock, and I felt the gently rhythmic massaging of her cheeks and tongue that began making my excitement take off like a rocket, I was reminded of the few other times years ago she had done it, and how different it felt - so rough and reluctant. But it was rough and reluctant no more. Now it was like heaven, and I knew, even as she made me soar in momentary pleasure, that heaven had come at the price of lots and lots of practice. As I let myself get lost in it, I thought about what she had said . "you need to get used to what you're going to hear." I knew there were more stories, and I was going to hear them all if I had the strength to bear up under it. I began to wonder how many there had been . how many lovers and how many cocks in her mouth and how many . how many guys like Gary who wouldn't take "no" for an answer? How many lies, how many other men in our bed and how many enjoying the perverse rush of getting cunt from a beautiful married woman? She must have known what I was thinking about, because she poured it on. Pulling back, moaning "you really like it, don't you?" Licking me, grasping me, taunting me. "You know what I've been doing, don't you?" "Yes, yes." "You know you're gonna hear it all, don't you? You're gonna hear every detail." "Yes, yes." "And if you don't listen to every detail ." I waited for the punch line to her threat as she momentarily took me back into her mouth. Then she pulled back again and finished her thought ". it's because you moved back out again. It's because you couldn't take the cheating I had to take." I thought she was done, but she wasn't. "I think you've figured it out by now," she said, "but if you haven't, I'll tell you. No details any more tonight, but the truth is I've been a whore. Gary got me started because up till then I had said no, but he made me realize how much I loved the attention, and how much I could love the sex. I realized I was right where I needed to be to have all the men I wanted - every Friday night and just about anytime I wanted company at home. I just fell for it. And even though I used to hate it, I really fell for the oral sex because it's the thing that makes men weak. They want it so bad. And I learned the more I did it, the more attention I got. And the more attention I got, the more I loved doing it. Do you like what I've been doing to you? Does it feel good?" "Oh, God, yes!" "You want me to finish, don't you? Even after what I've told you." "Yes." "The story about Gary and I isn't the worst. It was just the first." What could I say? I was a helpless, broiling mixture of pain and anger and desire. I wanted her to tell me. I wanted to know everything. I wanted to hear it! I wanted to experience it! "OK," I said weakly. "No, I mean it", she said, quietly but insistently, backing off from me. "I want you to understand. You're going to hear a lot. The things I've done . I really want you to stay. I don't want to drive you out. But you wanted the truth, and I just can't hide it anymore." She hugged me closely, tightly, looking almost regretful. "I've really been a whore," she repeated, looking me softly in the eye. "I've been a slut. A pickup. A tramp. Every trashy word you can think of applies to me. I want to know you understand. I want to be sure you're ready for what you're going to be put through in the future." I just wanted her to finish. "I do," I moaned, "I do understand." Where was this tangle of desire and pain coming from? She shocked me again. "Say it," she demanded quietly. "Say your wife's a whore. Say I'm a cocksucker. That's what I am. That's what I've been. I know that's what you're thinking." Her eyes were blazing again. A fierce glow of pleasure and pride. "How do you like it? How does it feel to find out your wife has been sucking cocks while you didn't get any? That's the truth you're going to hear - well, at least some of it. So come on . say it. Tell me I'm a slut." I didn't want to, but she began berating me, angering and frustrating me, and forgetting what she was going to do for me. And so I did, weakly and self-conscious at first, but stronger and stronger as she demanded it. "You're a whore, Alicia," I said, and strangely, the words felt good. "You're a fucking cocksucking whore. Oh, God my wife's a whore. My wife's a whore!" Oh, the shiver of realization! I reached for her then in a sudden explosion of frustration and anger. I grabbed her head and pushed it down toward my lap. "Come on, slut," I said, "do what you do." But she resisted and started saying "I don't think its the right time for this now" and "I shouldn't have suggested this," but I was not about to be humiliated and teased and tormented any more and I had to twist her hair and make her cry out and had to force her head down, and she squirmed and protested "no no its not right" but she did go back down on me then, and I ran my fingers fast fast fast along her back while I twisted her hair and twisted her arm and forced my hand down inside her nighty bottom. As my finger found her slutty sextoy slit and she struggled like a gasping fish in my lap, I got into telling her what she said she wanted to hear. "Do it, you fucking cunt," I told her. "Do what you're so good at. Show me how good you are. Show me what a slut you are. Show me what a whore you are. You little cocksucker." And as my heart pounded and I felt a surge of power as she struggled in my lap, I pinched her and punished her and pulled her hair while she whimpered in helpless pain, and I said "open up, cunt, you're gonna do it for me, too." And she surrendered to it, let me force her lips apart, and I descended into her deep wet syrupy pleasure mouth, and my hips rode and I pushed deep, and I moaned "suck it, suck it, cunt," and she did, she did, taking me all the way to the back of her mouth and into the entrance to her throat and I knew I knew she had done it so many times, there was no choking, no gagging, just sweet wet heaven in her mouth and I said again and again "suck me cunt" and I wondered how many times she had heard those words, how many men there had been, how many friends had experienced her, how great the betrayal, the lies, had been. Oh she was so good! Her mouth was a soft warm wet cocoon, so smooth and alive. A shiver went through me oh God it's all true it's all true, she is a whore, she really is a whore, and I was frantic with anger and elation in her mouth, and she gave in to it, seemed to love it as I forced her to suck, her cries muffled, going "mmmm mmmm mmmm mmmm," taking my thrusts faster faster and my finger sticky in her cunt and her body not struggling anymore, her fingers digging into my leg, her voice trying to scream body shaking orgasmic screams, and I thought oh God she loves it loves being made to, loves the twisted arms and pulling hair and rough bruises and getting weak and giving in and being force-fed cum, and I got such a frantic rush oh thoughts of her, her sweet whore's mouth, tempting and teasing and tormenting and provoking and resisting, then surrendering, sucking, swallowing and I was lost in it reveling in it not even myself anymore but all her lovers all of them and I thought about them all with her, their fingers in her cunt and their cocks in her mouth and all those nights with her naked in the dark and all her lovers brought home to our bed and I realized in a flash so sudden oh God I love this love what she's done love what she's saying love her being a whore love thinking about her cocksucking mouth and rivers of cum on her tongue and down her throat and all over her chin and her cheeks and nose and eyelids and gray-white globs in her hair and streams running down her neck and I let it take me to the edge of darkness and I surrendered to it, reveling in it, swimming in the lurid pleasure of thoughts of her sins, thoughts of her lies, thoughts of her secrets, oh my wonderful sextoy Alicia! And at last I let it go, let it all go, and she took it, the sweet slutty bitch drinking me down as my words rang out "oh, my God my wife's a whore oh do it do it do it cunt oh do it oh OH OH OH OH OH you fucking fucking fucking fucking cunt," and my spasms shot me all of me squirt squirt squirt into her mouth and she swallowed and swallowed and swallowed me and we lay there in our reverie, my cock still in her mouth, my finger still dancing in her sextoy slit, and for just a moment I forgot all the ecstatic anguish that was still to come. THE END (c) 1997 by Jul 4 1944 All comments addressed to the author will be welcome. Vickie Tern@AOL.COM -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /