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Cuck Me Once, Shame On Me

"These should make him nice and hard."She laughed as she sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her black nylons thigh high, her leg straight out, toes pointed the way women do, with the curve of her calf, the arch of her foot, as if she were about to pirouette on the tip of a big, thick cock.

"Yeah, totally," I whimpered from our bedroom doorway, unable to take my eyes off her transformation from an ordinary fifty-something hausfrau into a nylon-clad slut. Her pale white breasts burst from a too tight lace bra and her make-up mixing severe with haughty.

"Jesus, Kyle, you started it." She looked at me with her eyes wide open.

"I know, I know." I kicked the door jamb, not hard, a pathetic kick to echo my feelings.

"Do you want to call him and cancel?" She spoke as she looked at her reflection in the dresser mirror. She adjusted the cup of her bra and straightened her bowed garter belt across her flat stomach.

"No." I wasn't going to call Paul and cancel. We met him at one of those franchised suburban grill's, the one where everyone looks like life is this wonderful adventure to share over a plate of fried potato skins and Buffalo wings. I ate the potato skins while Paul dazzled my wife with lame comments like "Ruth, you can't be 54, 34 maybe, but not 54," which she swallowed whole. Nobody touched the wings.

And I did start it. I wanted something other than a few quick pumps before she went to sleep, or one of her charity hand jobs to save herself the trouble of cleaning my feeble spurts of cum from her pussy. I turned to internet porn to see how the other half lived and got addicted to amateur wife sites and cuckold videos. The thought of another man taking her became my overarching goal, hardening my cock more than she ever had. I brought it up one night after I came in her hand, thinking that I had nothing to lose, but I was wrong.

"Oh god, yes, Henry, yes." Her eyes lit up. She didn't pause or make a revolting face. She even went so far as to bend down and suck my flaccid prick with appreciation. It was the answer I wanted, but I didn't want it that fast.
She began posing for anonymous postings on an amateur site, pictures that displayed her ample tits and pussy in bad bedroom light. The photography sessions turned her wetter than I had ever made her and she became a taut fleshy hellion in bed. But Ruth wanted take another man's cock, preferably younger and bigger than mine.

She had her pick, as dozens of men replied when she posted a picture dressed as she was now with her desire to meet, her face blurred, fingers touching her newly shaved cunt, something that I had desired for years, but that only the promise of another cock could bring about. She corresponded with ten different men, whittled it down to three, and finally decided on Paul after graphic cam session chats. Paul, recently divorced and seemingly without a flaw, although I would love to hear what his ex-wife would say.

"He's only a fuck to me, dear. What do I care?" This was Ruth's response after our fried potato skin meeting and I had wanted to investigate more, as if I were vetting him for public office instead of my wife's pubis.

"What if he has an STD, what if he's a serial rapist, a serial killer, a cereal eater?" I blurted out "what if's" trying to scare her, the last because she makes fun of the fact that I eat Honey Nut Cheerios in a post cereal world.

"He's a pharmaceutical salesman, dear." This was the height that any man could aspire to in Ruth's opinion, and one of two facts that she had made sure to verify. I sell carbide tools for a respectable living, but could never match the esteem Ruth places on pharmaceutical salesmen, "they are riding atop the pinnacle of the health care industry which consumes 17% of the GDP", she's an accountant and numbers like that mean everything to her. She wanted to ride his "big thick prick", of which he had provided photographic evidence, which she verified by placing her hand beneath the suburban grill's table and stroking him to full hardness. Our waitress arriving at the peak moment to find out that "things couldn't be more perfect, dear".

I should confess that I felt the sudden urge to join my wife's hand over Paul's billowing cock, but restrained myself. It is also why I want to be naked and present as he enters our split-level home and takes the steps up to the master bedroom to see Ruth posed on our queen size bed, stripped of everything except 1000 count thread Egyptian sateen sheets. And why I was standing naked in our bedroom doorway, my stomach paunch sucked in when the doorbell rang.

"Flowers, how lovely." Ruth took the bouquet, me being certain it was a cheap $9.99 special from a supermarket bin.

"Wow, you look fantastic!" He said taking off his jacket, me standing there naked, and she covered with a silk print robe. Paul and I mumbled hellos when she issued her first command.

"Take his coat, you sniveling swine!" She riveted me with a look that I had never seen before. I felt a spasm and did what she said.

"Are you hungry dear?' She embraced Paul and kissed him open-mouthed.

"Yes." He whispered.

"Then strip!" She pushed him away and he began a strange nervous dance, as if he were trying some lame Gypsy Rose routine.

"Don't make me laugh, I want your cock not a show!"

Any bravado he had evaporated and he began to disrobe. I cracked a wisenheimer's smile at his little humiliation without any forethought, Ruth was no longer my staid, accountant wife.

"You think it's funny that I am going to fuck this stud and make you clean his cock after he cums?" She sent a jolt directly to my cock.

"Ah, er, no." I looked at Paul to read his thoughts. He had finished taking off his clothes and was staring at my crotch, as I was soon staring back at his. His cock was eight inches hard, making my measly five inches look even punier, and he had the biggest pair of balls that I had ever seen on any man, made larger by the fact that he shaved them, which I had also done in a pathetic attempt to make my dick appear bigger.

"Upstairs, both of you."

We didn't hesitate. Ruth sat down on the bed, her back against the headboard, as if she were going to open a book and read, but she had a thick purple, vibrating dildo in her hand, and had removed her silk robe.

"Mommy wants a little show to make her nice and wet. Kneel down, Henry!" I fell to my knees. Paul made the mistake of moving to the bed to join her.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ruth's words stopped him dead.

"I was, er going to, um, you know." The pharmaceutical salesman was at a loss for words.

"Fuck me? Is that what you're trying to say? Jesus then say it, say you want to fuck mommy."

He stood there next to me, his cock inches from my lips and although I had never touched another man's cock in my life, I began to stroke mine with the thought of having to clean that monster as I cupped his balls. "I want to fuck you." He delivered the line like a soap opera actor. Ruth spread her legs and work the dildo into her pussy.

"Louder!" She pushed the dildo in and out.

"I WANT TO FUCK YOU!" This time spoken with the conviction of a man who had been divorced for six months and was desperate for cunt.

"You didn't say mommy." She frowned.

"I WANT TO FUCK YOU, MOMMY!"

"You're going to have to eat her first!" She removed the vibrator and opened her legs to him, I could feel the heat of her cunt from where I knelt and smell it's juicy taint. I remained on my knees ready to play her game, stroking myself as Paul began to lap at her like a thirsty dog. I watched his huge nutsack dangling and his cock grow as he did.

"Turn over, I'm going to finish sitting on your face." Ruth pushed him away and he flipped to his back, his cock waving in the air as she mounted his face and ran her sloppy wet cunt back and forth over his mouth and tongue, going so far as to lift his head and grind."Fuck my hole with your tongue, lick it, now suck, oh Jesus, mommy's going to cum, don't move, take it, take all of my cum!" I watched as her ass quivered, her legs and pussy wrapped around his head, her back arched, and she made low guttural sounds as she wiped her pussy side to side over his face. I was now rock hard. Paul's face was flush, looking like a boxer who had taken too many punches to the head.

"Now mommy's going to ride your thick cock, not like Paul's little gherkin, no, I want feel all eight inches of you." With this she slid back over his torso to his raging cock.

"Wait, rubber," he mumbled and received a slap across the face for his trouble.

"I'll take your bare cock or nothing!" She stroked him and then bent as if to suck it but stopped, licking her lips with her tongue, millimeters from his glistening cock head. I crawled on my knees to the side of the bed to see the action, hoping Ruth wouldn't object in the heat of play. Paul had his hands on her lace bra, feeling the weight of her 38D breasts, eyes closed.

"I want to fuck you, mommy." He opened his eyes, as if he had seen the light of everlasting salvation and added, "with my bare cock".

"That's mommy's good little boy." She went down on him sucking him bigger and harder with a series of slurps and then mounted him, slowly sliding down on his cock, moaning with pleasure as she did.

I could describe it, but I think you can picture it all quite readily, fifty-something woman fucks stud like a doggy bitch in heat, she, commanding every move he would make, from cowgirl to missionary, and then side to side, her pussy oozing that milky lotion of fuck as his cock moved in and out until he paused for a moment and gagged, "cummming, fuck, fuck, arrrghhhh, cummming, motherfucking mommy, jesus cumming in you!!!" Or words to that effect, you may have thought of what you might say in the heat of the moment, but the fact is only animal sounds come out.

Ruth was just as vocal, slapped his ass, and curled her toes as she came, I remember how exquisite they looked with the nylon seam perfect. I had been stroking during all of this and echoed their cum into the palm of my hand, forgetting all about Ruth's earlier threat to have me clean Paul's cock or was he going to clean my clock, with all the cumming, I had really lost track until her voice returned me to our bedroom realm.

"Cleaning time, dear, me then him." They both lay on their backs, Paul's spunk was already leaking in spit dribs from her blood engorged lips, Paul's cock quivering half-mast. I licked, salty and warm, I licked, viscous pearls, I licked as she placed my head in her hands and pushed me to his dick, "Paul's turn, you little-dicked man." I had no more time to consider. I took cock to mouth and sucked cunt juice and cum threads, while cupping Paul's balls, it didn't feel gay. It sex between people. It was what Ruth wanted and we had acceded to her will.

I sucked until he became hard all over again, and then sucked some more until he fed me directly, much to Ruth's delight.

"I have to get going," was all Paul said after I had swallowed his cum. He didn't so much as give Ruth a peck on the cheek, but hurriedly dressed and made for the door.

Ruth remained silent, overwhelmed by the woman she had become, as if she had discovered the ability to fly but wasn't quite sure how to land.

It's been a three days since his visit and we still haven't talked about it. I'm not going to be the first, it's up to her. I'm not thinking about divorce or anything crazy like that, I'm fairly certain she isn't either. The fact is that I want her more than I did the first time we fucked twenty-five years ago and have jacked-off over and over again, recreating the images in my head. That and the fact that I can't stop thinking about Paul's thick cock.

End of Story