Chapter 3: Helpless Surrender

After another silent, uncomfortable month, Brad approached Alyssa again. “Baby,” he said quietly, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?” she wondered, arching one elegant eyebrow.

“Well…” He bit his lip. “I-I-I—” He took a breath and started again. “I’m just so horny, Alyssa,” he whispered desperately, red-faced.

She frowned. “So am I,” she replied gravely. “And yet still you deny me what I need.”

“I wonder if…” He licked his lips. “Well, you say you need more than I can give you—”

“Can you fuck me ten times in a row,” she interrupted sarcastically, “and leave me loose-lipped and dripping with cum?”

Brad swallowed. “Look,” he tried again, “if I were to let you—let you…”

“To let me become a promiscuous cock-teasing slut,” she wondered mildly, “one who just lies back and spreads her legs for anyone she wants to feel balls-deep down her shameless cunt?”

“Y-y-yes,” he replied unwillingly, blushing. Despite himself, he pictured it again—that beautiful black-furred pussy already brimming over with sperm from a just-completed fucking, oozing and splattered, and yet split wide open once more, urgently and unashamedly, filled by yet another red rod of flaming meat thrust straight up between shapely white young hips...He shivered.

“If I let you have what you want,” he attempted again, “w-would…would you give me what I need, too?”

She eyed him closely, speculatively. “Perhaps,” she said at last. “Perhaps…”

“Well, I don’t really want it like this, but—I mean, maybe…”

“Go on,” she said quietly, her face composed.

“Maybe,” he said at last, flushing deeply, “I could take the thought of you doing some of those dirty things if—”

“Ah ha!” Alyssa pounced eagerly. Her dark eyes held a triumphant, taunting gleam. “So you do want to see your pretty wife behaving like a cheap, slutty whore, don’t you, baby? You want to see me fuck a bunch of other guys, and suck ’em, too! But first you want to see me kiss ’em, and smile at ’em, and flirt with ’em. You want to see what a real bad-girl I can be…”

“B-b-but only if…” Brad sputtered. He swallowed. “I mean—well, I guess maybe I could, if you let me try out some other girls as the same time…”

He had never thought of anything like that since he had been married—not as anything but a silly fantasy, that is—and yet for several days he had been mulling it over most seriously. Though the thought of sharing his beloved Alyssa with another man was profoundly disturbing, maybe, just maybe it could be tolerable if they at least cheated together…

In Brad’s tentative plan, the two girls would lie side by side in a king-sized bed in a motel room somewhere, Alyssa and some slut she had picked out for her loving husband to enjoy—maybe a jiggly blonde with great big tits that he could squeeze and juggle and lift by their burning nipples. Oh, how he would make the girl really feel it! Yes, he would clutch at those pale rippling globes, tugging assertively at their rigid pink-brown peaks, sucking and smacking at ’em...It had been so long since he had been able to touch his own wife like that that the thought of molesting another girl’s big jugs beneath Alyssa’s dark-eyed gaze was somehow tremendously inflaming.

Nestled comfortably upon an unfamiliar blonde pubis, his poor organ aching and yet still merely joggling alongside the tender skin of the girl’s inner thigh, Brad would revel in the naughtiness of it all. As he palmed and grabbed at the available meat of the big-hipped wench beneath him, he would thrill to the way his sly-eyed wife watched him from the corner of her heavy, flushed lid. Yes, for her slender body, too, was covered by a stranger, another young many whose hands and mouth roamed her sleek pale flesh, eager to tease her, and please her. And yet as the other man groped her, the smirking Alyssa had eyes only for Brad, silently goading him onward, daring him to make the big blonde girl feel it, to do to her all the things he for so long had been unable force upon his own wife’s teasing body. Grinning vengefully, Brad would suck and pull at the other girl’s great nipples, making her squeal.

And as the foreplay gradually escalated, and the long-denied husband at last finally had draw back his hips and then lean slowly, oh-so slowly forward, enveloping his marveling dick inch by inch by inch in the snug, welcoming wet warmth of shivering blonde slut writhing receptively beneath him, he would look over right next to them, to where Alyssa lay smirking. For a moment he might blink uncertainly at the sight of the blonde’s grinning boyfriend running the drizzling purple head of his swollen glans though Alyssa squelching, hairy pink cunt. Brad’s breath might catch in his throat as the boy finally pushed that big, veiny, blunt-headed cock between beautiful portals of smelly, receptive wet velvet and down, down, down, into his wife’s most intimate interior, until the stranger nestled balls-deep and throbbing within her, the crown of the engorged thing already oozing the anticipatory fluids of his arousal deep within her. Then, however, with something of a mental shrug, Brad would give the other fellow a polite nod, and that man would chuckle friendlily back, and then the two would just start fucking their traded-off girls as they all so obviously needed.

The blonde would gaze up at Brad gratefully as he possessed her so purposefully and reveled in her abundant flesh. He would grip her big hips, kiss her gasping mouth, suck at her great thickened nipples, fuck her like an animal. Her easy receptiveness excited him powerfully. It made him feel big and male and strong, made him feel proud and self-assured—and the way the sultry Alyssa eyed his red-faced struggles with calm aplomb thrilled him perhaps just as much. The girl beneath him would pant and squeal as Brad filled her with every inch of his raging manhood, dominating her utterly with a reddened shaft of blind meat as engorged as it was desperately needy. Through it all she would coo and whisper to him flatteringly, clutching his straining flesh to her at the same time that her grunting boyfriend fucked Brad’s sweet wife remorselessly to make the shapely, raven-haired beauty shiver and sigh and moan.

Maybe as that other man grappled with Alyssa’s slender white flesh, Brad might reach over and pinch possessively at one of his wife’s dark, fiercely puckered nipples. Maybe he would crane his neck and kiss her gasping lips with the mouth that so recently had gnawed at the blonde’s big titties. Yes, though there had been another girl’s thick pink nipple in Brad’s mouth a moment before, there had likewise been a stranger’s big fat dick in Alyssa’s mouth still earlier, and he knew all too well that she had sucked at it as eagerly as Brad had nursed at the other girl’s sensitive flesh. And yet these things would only make the couple’s sweet kiss all the more pleasantly dirty!

Oh, how his beloved would respond to the harmless little treat which her husband finally allowed—and allow it Brad would if only Alyssa would let him satisfy himself as well. Truly, it could not help but send a benevolent, vicarious thrill running through the indulgent boy to see his pretty wife split open and pleasured so utterly...Facedown upon one another’s indulgent mates, the boys would work rhythmically in a friendly sort of competition, now faster, now slower, their turgid organs striving to prolong the sweet agony of their happy sport. On and on it would go, each man reluctant to spill too soon the frothing product of his swollen, over-excited balls.

Eventually, however, though the girls still had not yet been granted their climax, the poor boys could take no more. They glanced over at each other one last time, and by a sort of unspoken agreement, they finally agreed that it was time to squirt. Then, as the stranger beside him finally shuddered and gasped and helplessly poured every jolt of his stringy, frothing seed into the bottom of the smug black-haired siren’s grasping womb, Brad would catch his wife’s drowsy eye, and she would smile sideways up at him, sweaty and happy and soiled, and then the poor trembling husband would know finally that it was alright for him, too, to unload his jism, all over the inside of the big blonde. Ah, how he would glop her full!

At last, therefore, the men would switch partners, returning to the arms of their own familiar mates, girls who though sweaty and red-faced and filled with another man’s sperm, still needed their chance at orgasm as well. Brad would kiss his dear wife, cradling her in his arms, caressing her, murmuring her name lovingly. Soon, however, inflamed by the look in the unsatisfied thing’s eye, the shivering Brad might prowl further, his kisses would travel instinctively down her shoulders, her throat, her belly and hips...And as she lay there, spread-legged and exposed before his wondering eyes, her beautiful puffy-lipped pussy welling over with someone else’s ejaculate, he might reach both reverent hands into the glistening mess and rub her devotedly to orgasm…

“M-maybe,” Brad amplified shyly in the silence, “we could do it together.”

Alyssa’s eyes narrowed. “Not a chance.”

“B-but, Alyssa,” he attempted, “I thought you said that—that…” He licked his lips. “Th-that maybe you wanted to try another girl, too. Remember? When you were talking about maybe letting one touch you, or maybe play with your breasts? Wouldn’t that be kinda fun…?” He blinked at her hopefully.

“For me,” she reminded him quietly, “not for you.”

“But—”

“There’s a big difference between me seducing some bi-curious straight girl for my own amusement,” Alyssa told him loftily, “and me letting you stick your dirty dick inside of her and use her for your own naughty gratification. If—” She stopped, then smiled nastily and continued, “When I bring home some yummy slut for me for me to play with, I already know exactly what I’m gonna do. Mm, can you imagine it?”

“M-maybe…” he breathed, wickedly titillated by the thought of her possible lesbian experimentation despite her apparent denial of his suggestion that the couple swing together.

“I always kind of imagine I’d start out with a really young chick,” she confided with a naughty relish to her eager spouse, “maybe some high school girl who’s just turned eighteen—a real bad-girl wannabe who thinks she’s ready to try anything. You know the kind I mean, don’t you?”

“I— I think so,” said Brad quietly.

“I’d lead her in with my arm around her waist, feeling the flesh of her buttock roll beneath my palm, supple and feminine and soft. Mm, and maybe I’d squeeze that ass a little, just for fun, just to see what it’s like.” She smiled. “Really, I guess, I’d be teasing myself as well as her, getting me all worked up inside, too.”

“Of course,” agreed Brad softly.

“Then I’d take this teenager by the hand, almost romantically,” she said softly, “and I’d lead her into the bedroom, and we’d sit side by side, our hips touching. I’d put my hand of her naked knee—’cause I always imagine she be wearing this really short, teasingly slutty skirt, maybe a plaid schoolgirl type of thing. And then as she sort of shivers at my touch, I’d slide my palm slowly up her thigh, slowly, watching her face all the while.”

Brad licked his lips. Alyssa’s eyes were bright.

“Maybe she’d be a little hesitant then,” imagined his wife, “suddenly nervous at letting another girl touch her like that, and I’d have to seduce her all over again. Maybe she’s had sex with her boyfriend a couple of times, maybe not—but she’s definitely never been with another girl before, and now she’s kind of embarrassed and shy, no matter what she’s already said. The look on her face, uncertain and yet naughtily eager all at once, would make me feel so sexually powerful, so strong somehow—very kinky.”

Brad watched his wife’s pale, dreamy face, flushed now with the fantasy she spun. Oh, how lovely she was, how irresistible! And, yes, how self-composed and unutterably powerful, too…

“I’d have to smile at her and whisper in her blazing red ear, and reassure her,” said Alyssa mildly. “With one hand teasingly light on her thigh and my other hand on her shoulder or maybe the nape of her neck, I’d kiss her softly on the cheek and tell her how pretty she is, how desirable. I’d have to coax her into admitting how nice it would be to make love to another woman…” She regarded her wide-eyed husband speculatively for a moment. “Does that sort of thing turn you on, Brad?” she wondered at last, quietly.

“Yes!” confessed the helpless boy. God, how her wicked words thrilled him!

“Well, I am gonna grab that teenaged slut by the shoulders then and kiss that girl right on her pretty red lips,” she told him purposefully, “with my tongue all over the inside of her mouth. I’ll make her shiver and pant, and get all juiced up between her quaking thighs.” She smiled crookedly. “I suppose you’d like to watch that, huh?”

“Mm hmm,” he murmured, his eyes bright. Maybe, he tried to tell himself, just maybe she was softening to his proposal. With all this kinky talk, and with the notion of Brad getting to watch her sweet Sapphic games, maybe his dear Alyssa really would let him touch the girl, too. Oh, and if that were the case—well, then as the shamefaced boy had said, perhaps he could consider allowing his wife to touch another man as well…

“I’ll kiss that soft young face of hers, Brad,” she told him teasingly, “and her neck and her shoulders, and the fuzzy skin behind her ears. And then I’ll strip her naked and ogle her like I’ve always wanted, and I’ll touch that soft, supple body of hers with my hands and my mouth. I want to feel every inch of her against me, smooth and slender and oh-so available.” Alyssa’s eyes burned.

“And the idea of laying my hands on another straight girl’s bare breasts…” she continued breathily. Despite her attempted pose of superior self-control, she shivered. “Oh, I’ll grab those jiggling white mounds in both hands, and I’ll squeeze and fondle ’em. Those thick nipples’ll be crinkled up all stiff and crinkled just for me, and I’ll tug on ’em, hard. I’ll pinch ’em and pull ’em and stretch ’em. Yeah, and I’ll suck ’em and bite ’em, too, feeling ’em in my mouth so sensitive and yummy, and completely vulnerable to anything I want to do, anything! God, I’ll make her squeal.”

“Oh, yeah,” he replied softly. He licked his lips. “You’ll show her, won’t you?” he said quietly.

“Yes, I’ll show her,” agreed Alyssa almost patiently. “I’ll make her feel pretty and desirable, and restless inside, really juicy. She won’t be able to help herself.” She smiled at the look in her husband’s eyes. “Ah, to run my fingertips over this girl’s hips and her belly and her thighs, watching her shiver! And then finding that hairy, smelly, slippery-soft pussy all open and wet for me…” Nostrils flaring, Alyssa licked her lips.

“Yeah, she’d be really smelly then, wouldn’t she?” Brad chimed in encouragingly. His poor cock throbbed at his wicked wife’s teasing game. “Mm, all wet and fishy, begging for it…”

“Oh, yes,” agreed Alyssa softly, “I’ll make her beg. As her slinky white young body flutters beneath me, I’ll look down at her and I’ll drag my fingertips through the girl’s open cunt, and I’ll rub ’em all over her erect nipples, and I’ll shove ’em in her mouth and make her lick them off, tasting her own juices. I’ll tease her, and I’ll tantalize her, and I’ll torture her until she can’t take it any longer, and then I’ll slither down there between her open thighs, and I’ll—I’ll—I’ll—” Eyes wild, she let out her breath, then licked her lips slowly. She blinked. “I will do anything and everything it takes to give that lovely little eighteen-year-old the orgasm she’s been whimpering for,” she concluded softly, slightly more composedly. “I’ll do everything we both need. Everything.”

“That’s beautiful” said Brad encouragingly, imagining it, “so beautiful…”

“And then,” added his wife quietly, her face flushed, her long-lashed eyes smoldering and dark, “the things she’ll do to me…”

“Oh, you deserve it, sweetie,” he told her truthfully, “you deserve it…” And yet, of course, he told himself, if she deserved it, then surely he did, too, didn’t he? Surely the poor pent-up man deserved the chance to ogle and grope that wildly available young flesh, too, to mount her gruntingly while his indulgent wife watched it all calmly, to ejaculate without restraint into her snug young cunt—and, perhaps, to know somewhere deep inside that every shuddering spurt was another stroke of his signature on some implied perverse contract between Alyssa and her loving spouse, the one which finally would let her experience the lovemaking of some other man…

Brad thought about it. And yet if that was what it took to make her truly happy, to fulfill her newfound needs, perhaps it was indeed worth it, he told himself. Yet she did have to reciprocate. It simply was not fair to deny him. If only she allowed him a little extra treat now and then, then maybe he could understand if she wanted something extra for herself as well...Turnabout, he told himself slyly with an inward smile, was foreplay, after all.

“Yes, I do deserve it,” Alyssa agreed quietly. Her eyes gleamed. “But you don’t.”

Astounded, Brad could only gape back at her.

“And no matter what,” she reminded her helplessly erect husband, “that kinky, willing slut writhing aroused and naked in our sheets is definitely gonna be for me and me alone to enjoy.”

“But, baby,” he whined, “gosh, I’m a man, and I have needs, too. I mean, we could swing together if you really, really wanted to, baby.” He licked his lips desperately. “And it’s natural, isn’t it, that a guy—”

“You and your precious male needs,” she intoned with a slow, mocking headshake, “are of no consequence in the discussion of my needs.”

“But—”

“No!” snapped Alyssa. “If anything, the supposed biological basis of your so-called male needs—as grunting and polygamous as a gorilla, I presume—is precisely what makes it necessary for you to be faithful to me and me alone.”

He could only gape for a long, disbelieving moment at the bald-faced enormity of the humiliating double-standard she proposed. Finally, though, the stunned boy found his voice. “B-but how can you—”

“And my requirement of your utter subservience to the primacy of my desires,” she interrupted with a superior little sneer, “is not to be lessened in the slightest by the thoroughness, inventiveness, and remorselessness with which I enslave you and control you, and turn you into a cuckold.”

Brad blanched at the humiliation upon which she kept insisting, at the way she seemed so ready to force her will upon him, no matter how degrading it was to her long-suffering husband. How cruelly demanding she had grown! His poor cock suddenly shriveled up tiny and wrinkled at her relentless, jeering abuse.

“If a man really does have a ‘natural’ tendency to stray,” the slender thing intoned with a queenly disdain, “then it is all the more necessary for me to discourage, quash, and even punish the mere thought of that tendency. I, however, will debauch myself in any manner that happens to be my whim—any!—but your miserable dick will remain faithful to my pussy, period. No matter,” she reminded him nastily, “how used and cummy that slutty pink thing may be.”

“B-but—”

“You do want to stay married to me, right…?”

“Of course,” he whispered meekly, aghast at the thought of losing her.

“Well,” she replied haughtily, “then if you want to be able to touch me again, all you have to do is submit yourself to me, body and soul. You can do that, can’t you?”

“But, honey,” he pleaded, “how can I think of you letting…” He gulped. “Of—of you letting some other guy t-t-touch you, and, and—”

“And grope me,” she wondered pointedly, “all over my lovely bare body? And pinch the tips of my high little white titties and make ’em stretch and stretch and stretch…? And kiss me on the mouth, and make me sigh and beg for more?”

Stricken, he could only stare back at her. Oh, how could she say such things? How could she torture him so?

“And then just mount me like a barnyard animal,” she continued with a vengeance, “all big and hairy and male, pushing the thickened lips of my cunt wide, wallowing on my flat little belly, grunting as he does whatever he wants to do to me, on and on and on, until finally he just can’t help dumping every nasty squirt of his cum into the bottom of my grasping pussy?” Her dark eyes burned relentlessly, mercilessly, into his. “You don’t want to think of that, huh?”

“No…” he whispered.

“Well, then, don’t think of it like that,” she said with a sinister leer, “because, often as not, it wouldn’t be just one guy, either! No, it’s gonna take more than one dick to satisfy me. Mm, in my mouth, my hands, my pussy! Can you imagine it, Brad—can you imagine watching me servicing two or three men at a time…?”

Eyes wide, he shook his head soundlessly. His throat felt prickly and constricted, as if at any moment it might choke out in helpless sobs.

“Then you’d better think of it,” she instructed him, her eyes narrowed, “ ’cause I sure do! But two or three? Why, that’s nothing! How about six, eight, ten, fifteen, twenty?”

Helplessly Brad bit his lip, unable even to reply.

“Mm, to be naked and available in the center of attention in a ring of aroused men, all smooth and alluring beneath their leering gazes, feeling the hunger of their helpless desire…” Her nostrils flared as she imagined it. “Yeah, to get on my knees and slobber over some big red dick that’s plumped up all fat and throbbing just for me, some stranger I’ve never met before—but I wouldn’t even bother to look at his face, because what I want is his cock. Oh, to just open up my lips and suck at him, swirling all over his swollen purple knob, gulping, slurping, licking, begging him to fill my mouth with every thick, gooey squirt and show me how good I made him feel!”

Brad could only gape back at her, aghast, her syrupy words filling his blazing red ears just as her ideas filled his unwilling mind.

“And at the same time,” she crooned, “a different hungry stud simply grabs my hips and stuffs me from behind, balls-deep and grunting, with some thick eight- or ten-inch cock that absolutely fills me and really makes me feel it! And maybe another guy—or another two or three or four or ’em!—crowd around and beg me to suck them, too, or to reach up and yank and yank and yank until they can’t help but squirt off all over my face…”

Brad swallowed, white-faced.

“Would you still want to kiss me then, honey?” she taunted him, very purposefully. “Even when my pussy was still sloppy and open and oozing with some random guy’s cum, and after I had made everybody else just squirt their loads all over my face? Would you?”

Helplessly Brad blinked back at her. Oh, how long it had been since his poor swollen scrotum had been drained! Yes, how he had lain awake night after night, restlessly unsatisfied, his poor cock standing erect and engorged and untouched while beside him his own dear love dreamed of the terrible, exhibitionistic debaucheries she craved! And as she sighed in the syrupy dreams wherein she finally could allow all of her wicked fantasies to run free, the pent-up Brad had quivered and sweated, his own excitation somehow secretly worsened by the thought of the scenarios that must have been playing out in the shameless synapses of her inventive mind. Even then, he had wondered wide-eyed in the darkness, did she expose herself in dreams, sly and seductive before a veritable forest of rampant red cocks? Did she imagine their eyes, their hands, their mouths all over her beautiful bare body? Did the quick twitch at the corner of that smirking red mouth suggest yet another thickly filling penetration of some imagined lover? And did the sudden flutter of those closed, flushed lids indicate her own dirty orgasm as she squealed comfortably beneath the intimate possession…?

Despite the shame of what she suggested now, her words made the pulse pound strangely in his groin. Yes, like her, the poor husband had dreamed about such things, too—yet reluctantly, unwillingly, secretly…

“After getting fucked by that many big hard-ons, I’d be squatting around an absolute cunt-ful of cum, Brad,” she said purposefully, “like some hairy pink éclair, all warm and plump and yummy, pumped absolutely full of sperm-custard. And you’d be able to smell me, baby—bad.”

Brad shivered as he thought of it, wide-eyed.

“The other guys’ splooge would be dripping off my face in big gooey strings,” she reminded him nastily, “stretched and quivering, plopping down now and then onto my beautiful bare titties, or maybe drizzling all the way down my belly and into my pubic hair…” Her eyes gleamed. “Would you still want to open up your mouth and kiss your wifey then, Brad, even when you’ve seen what a bad-girl she can be?”

His throat was dry, and for a moment no speech came.

“You’re not going to lie to me, are you,” she wondered dangerously, “and tell me you wouldn’t still be excited, even after you’ve seen me get used like a whore, and my body is all flushed and sweaty, and I’m so slick and wet inside, and full of their jizz, and even my mouth is still swimming with the curdles of somebody else’s cum…?”

Brad licked his lips, acutely conscious of the knowing dark eyes which held him transfixed and somehow guilty beneath her mocking gaze. His heartbeat seemed to shake his whole frame. All at once he realized that, for no reason he could quite name, his poor guilty cock had plumped up beneath his belly, distended and urgent and full.

“In fact,” she taunted him, “don’t you think you would be turned on especially because of what I had just done, and what I had let all those other guys’ fat purple penises do to my lovely little white body…?”

He tried to deny it, tried to shake his head, but the girl stared him down calmly, her dark eyes somber and merciless. Smirking, she gestured with one negligent white hand toward the erection that throbbed, unwelcome and yet undeniable, in the front of his pants. “Why, you’re aroused at the very thought even now, aren’t you, you naughty boy?”

It was true! one secret corner of his mind sang out fiercely. It was true! And yet that couldn’t be, he tried to tell himself. Why, no man would want that for his beloved. It was unnatural, it was humiliating, it was wrong. This girl should be for him and him alone, not exposed to the leering eyes, the grasping hands, the thrusting red erections of guys who just wanted to use her like a slut. No one should want to think about all of those dicks sliding fat and urgent into his dear wife’s sacrosanct vagina, over and over and over, no matter how beautifully the forbidden act might make the girl shiver and smile and coo…

“Yes, you do want to see me absolutely filled with somebody else’s splooge, don’t you, you naughty thing?” She watched his helpless eyes. “And I’ll bet you’re just about ready to come right now. Why, if I were to permit it, you’d just unzip this very minute and masturbate all over yourself at the very thought—two, three, four times, probably—until you couldn’t even jerk it any longer.”

Brad blinked rapidly, imagining what she said. Oh, what a sweet release it would be right now simply to expose himself before his once-more indulgent wife and show her how desperately much she aroused his desires! He was just so wildly excited now, and whether because of her kindness or her cruelty it scarcely seemed to matter. Would she permit him his long-delayed orgasm out of love? Or did her seeming softening reflect instead merely some superior desire to see him squirm and sweat and writhe like the helpless beast that he was? Oh, it made no difference, for in the final analysis it was she who teased and inflamed him so, she! Yes, right now the terrible dear wouldn’t even need to touch him—she simply had to permit him the release his poor body craved. It had been such a long, long time since she had deigned to try to excite him, and now the teasing return of her previously withheld attentions made his flesh surge with a perverse and yet somehow natural passion.

Alyssa read the pathetic hunger in his face, and it made her smile with a superior satisfaction. “Oh, but that’d be a pretty dirty thing for someone as straight-laced and possessive as you claim to be, Brad. I mean, all the while you’re just yanking your dick in front of me, you know what we’d both be thinking about—how much I need my gangbang, to lie open and flushed and ready as one excited stranger after another humps me balls-deep…” Her dark eyes gleamed wickedly. “Yeah, you want me to have that just as much as I do, baby, don’t you? Don’t you…?”

The boy closed his eyes beneath the verbal onslaught, quivering, but behind his scrunched-up lids blazed again the terrible perversions his wife suggested so hypnotically—the shuddering penetrations, the grunting possessions, the splattering pollutions...Within the tight-curled vesicles churning inside the taut skin of his distended scrotum roiled the urgent fluids of his betraying desire. The chair was rock-solid beneath him, and yet he seemed to teeter upon some windy brink, a place behind which the one narrow path back to a marriage of blissfully ignorant monogamy had grown irretrievably shut with vines and clinging briars, and beyond which lay only an impossible leap into a yawning gulf of things he dared not even name…

There was a soft rustling, and when he opened his eyes Alyssa suddenly stood naked before him, standing shapely and available and smooth before his wondering gaze as she had not deigned to do in so, so long. How dear were the familiar curves of her body, the curls of the majestic black bush brooding damp and aromatic between her long sleek hips, the rose-tipped handfuls standing out high and proud upon her chest! Her glossy sable mane hung heavy and lustrous about her bare, gleaming shoulders, framing a face wherein heavy-lidded dark orbs regarded him with a searching gaze.

His breath caught in his throat, and that made the girl smile with a calm self-assurance. “Do you want me, Brad?” she smirked, her voice tinged with amusement at his helpless plight.

His mouth hung open, breath coming heavy through lips slack in the face of the terrible temptation of this firm, demanding goddess. Oh, how his body craved the release that only her pale creamy flesh could bestow!

“Do you want me?” she asked again, teasingly. With a slow theatrical flourish she drew her slender hands gently up over her thighs, her hipbones, her fiercely pointed breasts, and finally rolled her elegant white arms outward from her sides, palms upraised in a grand gesture. “And will you still want me even when you’ve seen me do all of the things I need…?”

Brad’s very soul seemed to hang in uneasy balance—the unbearable enticement of this exquisite, dirty-minded, long-limbed mistress of his life on one side, versus his pride, his self-confidence, his mastery of his own destiny on the other. Oh, how she gleamed before him, impossibly promising even in her demanding cruelty!

Regally, then, she raised her chin slightly and stared down at his worshipful face, glowing cool and distant and superior above him. Eyes gleaming, she swept her arms down in a long graceful arc, ending like a dancer, with her open-palmed hands pointed inward alongside her supple bare hips. “Do you want this pussy?” she husked, her long-lashed eyelids flushed and heavy. “Do you want to feel it smooth and slick and snug around every inch of your rampant cock?”

Wide-eyed, Brad imagined it. God, how he needed her!

“After all these months, Brad,” she smiled temptingly, “don’t you finally want to lie on top on me once again, and feel accepted and safe and wanted as I draw up my knees and splay them wide, and I open up inside like a soft pink flower?” Smirking, she lowered her lashes coyly. “Would you teach me about the birds and the bees then, big boy?”

Oh, the thought of it! Mm, to feel her beneath him once more, slender and long-hipped and shapely, a creature satin-smooth and cream-skinned, whom at last he could kiss and snuggle and touch! Why, it would not even be sexual, he realized a little dazedly, at least not at first. For she was right—what he needed was simply the gentle intimacy of that posture, the closeness he had not felt for so, so long. And yet...Well, his erection would indeed be bobbling against the bare skin of her inner thigh, would it not? Mm, and he could shift his hips in dreamy unconcern, suddenly feeling the sticky-soft pout of her again upon the bloated purple head of his wondering flesh, and it would be so easy and natural and right then to lean down, down, down, grateful and shuddering through every resilient pink inch of her graciously welcoming interior, as Alyssa beamed up doe-eyed and understanding and lovely…

“Yes, you can return to the womb,” the girl assured him almost gently, watching his helplessly yearning face, “and rock yourself like a baby, on and on and on, until with a long, contented whimper you release all tension and thought and care.” The corner of her lips quirked faintly. “At least for a little while…” she added. “And at least for a few inches.” Her eyes simmered. “But that’s enough, isn’t it?” she suggested in an insistent sort of reasonableness. “Mm, to bury yourself inside of me again, wallowing wet and welcome and warm, and feel me lying under you all soft and smooth and snug, just like it always used to be. And yet you know, too, don’t you, that the prettiest flower attracts more than one bee…?”

Oh, how the poor husband’s heart sang out within his pounding chest—yes, yes, yes! But it could not be, he tried to tell himself, not like that...Desperately he tried to cling to his resolve.

Alyssa, however, read it all in his eyes. “Mm,” she crooned gently, “feeling my body naked and available, understanding and receptive, ready for everything you long to do to it—everything!—as you touch me and kiss me and feel me upon every striving inch of you, my arms around your sweating neck and my lips murmuring in your ear as finally you gasp and shiver and sigh, and you can’t help but squirt eeevery drop of your cum so deep inside of me…”

Helplessly Brad shuddered before her.

“You know I’m gonna need to get a lot of cum inside of me,” she reminded him relentlessly, “but at least some of it can be yours, honey—you just have to let me do what I want…”

As he goggled before her, she stepped her ankles apart so that her bare feet now stood proud and wider than her shoulders. After his months of privation, her majestic, wiry black bush seemed the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, somehow even more glorious than he had remembered it. He gazed at that luxuriant delta of dense, damp curls longingly, lovingly. Oh, how much he craved her! His wide, wondering eyes seemed filled with her, as if he had never seen this once-familiar territory before.

Why, in fact...Brad blinked. In fact, the vision that swam before him was different—the edges of that crinkled ebon field had been groomed, trimmed back ever so slightly so as not to impinge upon the joints of her sleek thighs, and so as to unmask the alluring flesh of her softly pouting labia. When she had done this he did not know—that was how long she had denied the poor boy, so long that he scarcely even knew what his own wife’s dear black thatch looked like! And yet the subtle modicum of trimming served to accentuate her enthralling femininity all the more—the shapely swell of that elegant pubis, the gleam of her silken pale thighs and belly in contrast to the inviting darkness of that seductive and primally intimate forest of curls, and the soft, salty-sweet velvet below, a plump-lipped split peach that veritably begged to be stroked and fingered, parted and penetrated…worshipped. And, oh, how he could smell her! What a torture it was to sway bare inches away from that fragrant heaven that in truth was as distant from him as the dark side of the Moon.

Yes, beneath her soft-furred mound, the lips of that cruel, untouchable pussy gleamed soft and moist and already slightly parted in their whorish excitation. She was dilated enough, all of her own accord, that he could even see inside of her—pink and smooth and slick. Slick? No, soaked was the word, for the very bottom of those plumped-up labia nearly dripped with her ready lubrication. This excruciating tease was perhaps almost as much for her as it was for him, Brad realized vaguely, for clearly her hungry body now was ready for anything. A finger or two or three, the great swelling shaft of her big black rubber dildo—nothing would be too much for that ravenous pink pit of delights.

Nothing, that is, except her poor long-suffering husband. Yes, how wildly aware he was of that fact. For in the various wicked schemes of her utter satisfaction it was still he would be denied, he would have to wait, he whose rampant cock throbbed swollen and untouched and unloved as she cavorted without remorse in her planned debaucheries beneath the striving bodies of hard-muscled young strangers who at her smirking behest could do anything they wanted to her ready body, anything…

“You do want this pussy, don’t you?” she wondered softly from somewhere far above him.

Brad swallowed, his eyes, his lungs, his brain filled—filled!—with her.

“All you have to do,” intoned Alyssa solemnly, “is submit yourself to me, utterly and without reserve, and to bow down to my needs.”

Brad’s breath was ragged. Lips trembling, he stared up at this white goddess in an agony of frustration.

“You can finally put your disobedient little dick back inside of me tonight, Brad, and feel what you’ve been missing all this time, so slippery and smooth and snug, and I’d even let you do what you need and squirt aaallllll you want…but you know very well what I’m going to have to do first.” Her dark eyes gleamed tauntingly. “Do you want me that bad, baby? Do you? Bad enough to wait your turn like a good little boy while everybody else uses me first?”

Entranced, the man stared helplessly up at this ethereal creature who towered over him like some fallen angel sent to tease and tantalize and torment in ways that no fallible, needy human man could ever resist. Oh, how long-legged and desirable she was, how worthy of the utmost worship!

“Submit to me,” she commanded him quietly. “Beg me. Make me betray you. Show me how utterly you crave me.” She watched him intently, her gaze heavy-lidded. “Be my cuckold, my plaything, my slave.”

Brad groaned, shivering. For her, he realized dizzily, he would indeed do anything—anything! He could resist her no longer. He was helpless beneath her. Alyssa’s dark eyes blazed as she read it in his face.

“Yes, you want it, too, don’t you, baby?” she pressed him pitilessly, her raven tresses gleaming lustrous about her ivory throat. “You want to see me just ravished by dick after dick, don’t you? Mm, virile young men, erect and naked and needy, gazing down upon my desirable bare body, leering at me, kissing me, touching me, exciting me. God, to look up and see them, tremblingly eager, their penises thick and purple-headed and oozing…for me, all for me!” Breathily Alyssa licked her rich lips.

Brad cringed. He was fiercely ashamed, and yet in the midst of his humiliation, ah, how his poor congested organ throbbed, too! How he wanted the betraying angel, desired her, craved her more than pride or will or sanity! And she would not stop, he knew. He felt tiny and powerless and completely at her mercy. And yet perhaps in this smallness was a strange comfort, too, for she was beautifully firm and sure and self-assured, and she would not stop, and whatever she said would be all right…

“Ah, to give myself up to them,” crooned the raven-haired siren, “their grasping hands, their hungry mouths, their throbbing red penises...But in a way, it is they who give themselves to me. I don’t even have to do anything,” she exclaimed in a simmering, hypnotic sort of wonderment, “for to display myself available and bare and ready is to enslave them…and you.” The girl’s eyes burned deep and fathomless, hugely dilated. “Mm, to lie there, spread-legged and happy—open and moaning, penetrated, fucked, used, come in, again and again and again, until I can’t take another goddamned drop of sperm!” She struggled to catch her breath. “Because you want that for me as well, don’t you? Don’t you, Brad?” Her voice was suddenly sharp, commanding. “Don’t you? Don’t you? Don’t you?”

“Yeeessss…!” he gasped finally, long and low and shuddering. Oh, how dirtily good it was to confess before her at last, to admit for the first time that any wicked desire she craved would be allowable, and somehow right. His penis throbbed, congested and crooked and thick within his constricting trousers, absolutely full of his love.

She smiled at his confession, a smile somehow distant and superior and diamond-hard—and yet even this expression of approval inflamed him all the more.

“Yes, baby,” he whimpered, “yes! Take it, take it all—everything you need!” His blood roared, pounding in his untouched organ. “P-p-please,” he begged pathetically, “just let me—” He licked his dry lips, then husked out, “Let me worship you…”

Cruel red lips curling wickedly, Alyssa gave a slow, grave nod, and the poor boy simply fell to his knees before her, whimpering. Dramatically, unthinkingly, he raised both trembling hands wide as if in prayer, and he clung to the long white curve of her hips in an agony of devotion. Then he leaned reverently forward, and as his face streamed with tears of frustration, of seething rage, of unspeakable gratitude, he opened his ravenous mouth and drowned himself contentedly in the welcoming folds of her sopping, hairy womanhood.