The Fourth Ring

THE FOURTH RING

Copyright 1995 Hunter Jackson


A typical Friday. Too many deadlines, too many phone calls, too many
emergencies. Although a few of these deadlines and emergencies were the
result of my representation of Contrax Industries, I was still looking
forward to lunch with Contrax's president, Rick Robertson. While Rick
always attended to business, he was also a bit of a "rounder", and damn
proud of it. Given my rather staid sexual relationship with my wife, Anne,
I enjoyed living vicariously through Rick's exploits.
This lunch fit the normal pattern. Rick and I spent the first 45
minutes analyzing and dissecting the antitrust implications of a possible
acquisition by Contrax. After beating that dead horse one last time,
Rick ordered us a couple of Absolut Citron's with soda and embarked on a
recounting of his latest conquests.
"Married pussy!" Rick exclaimed.
"What do you mean, Rick?" The non-sequitor confused me.
"Married pussy is the easiest, hottest, wettest pussy in the world."
"Rick, as a married man, I can speak with some experience and certainty
on this subject. Married pussy is anything but easy, and rarely hot or
wet." My reply was authoritative, but in retrospect I led with my chin on
this one.
"Bill, for such a smart lawyer who charges $350 an hour, you are a total
dumbshit."
I like Rick, but he also is a bit abrasive and arrogant. Sometimes he
can really push my buttons.
Rick continued, "when I speak of married pussy, I'm talking about
fucking pussies that are married to other men. More times than not, a
married woman is dying for a thorough fucking from a real man, not just
the weekly ten minute diddle they are used to from their husbands."
"Well, I imagine that there are some dissatisfied wives out there, but
as your friend and attorney, I strongly advise against propositioning
married woman. You'll end up with, at least a bruised cheek from her
slap and, at worst, excruciating pain from her knee to your groin."
Rick chuckled, but quickly dismissed my cautions. "Bill, you don't even
have a clue. In the past three months, I have approached eight different
married woman, and I'm batting a thousand. I've concluded that there
isn't a married woman out there, who given the opportunity, would turn
down a sexual romp with a good-looking man."
"I don't know what world you've been living in, Rick, but I suspect that
if you approached any of the married women that I know your batting
average would quickly drop to the point that you would be sent back down
to the minors."
"Like who?" Rick stared at me confidently.
I was totally dumbfounded. I didn't expect to be challenged on this
point. My mind went blank so I tried to avoid the question. "Look, Rick,
you know damn well that there are so many frigid wives living in the
suburbs that your theory can't hold water."
"Who?" Rick wasn't going to let the question slide.
My mind was slowly starting to reason again. I didn't really want to
give Rick the names of any of the married women that I know. Rick's the
type of guy who jumps at every challenge. I certainly didn't want him
hitting on the wives of any of my friends. Common sense suggested that
the safest thing to do was rely on my wife, Anne.
Anne and I have been married for twelve years, with two kids to show for
the venture. Anne is not exactly frigid, but she is also rather
conservative when it comes to sex. Pretty much straight intercourse, with
very rare oral sex, and certainly no anal. From the perspective of
frequency, we will usually have sex 3 or 4 times a month. I knew that
Anne would never stray. In fact, she was a virgin when we married.
"Well, Rick, like my wife, for example.."
Rick smirked. "You mean Anne?"
Rick had met Anne at a few business functions. Ceertainly, nothing
untoward occurred. Anne is always the epitome of propriety. Not that she
isn't strikingly beautiful, but she masks her 5 foot, five inch, 115 lbs.
frame and 35-21-36 figure in expensive and conservative attire. One of
my unspoken complaints has always been that Anne's delectable ass is
never displayed in a manner befitting its magnificence. Of course, her
dark brown, shoulder length hair is always perfectly coiffed and frames
her high cheek-bones, porcelin skin and full lips.
"Bill," Rick shook his head in a condescending fashion, "do you really
think for a moment that Anne hasn't fucked around on you?"
Not wanting to give any credence to Rick's outrageous suggestion, I
tried to remain composed when I confidently replied, "I know she has
never cheated and would never cheat. That's why your hypothesis about
married pussy is fatally flawed."
"Well, Bill, if Anne hasn't taken on any other men, it's only because
she has never been presented with the right opportunity."
"Sure, sure, Rick,whatever you say..." My cynical response only served
to heighten Rick's competitive nature.
"Look, I'll prove it to you if you doubt me...but its got to be a fair
test. You can't purposefully intervene or interfere. You just give me a
reasonable chance to prove my point without letting Anne know that's
something's up, I'll admit I'm wrong if I fail. Hell, I'll even let you
handle drafting the Berringer contract at double your hourly rate."
It sounded like a deal to good to be true. I'm sonewhat ashamed to admit
it, but I really wanted the Berringer contract, and double my hourly rate
would pay for a nice ski vacation. Yet, I recognized that Rick is a
shrewd man. "What happens if your right?" The lawyer in me always tries
to weigh all the variables.
"See, your already afraid that I'm right! A second ago, you thought I
was full of ******** tell you what I'll make it an easy wager. If I'm
right, you agree not to interfere and let what ever happens to happen. OK?"
Less than enthusiastically, I said "Deal."
For some unexplainable reason, I looked at Anne differently that night
as she emerged from the shower. I wondered how she would react to Rick
coming on to her. I wondered whether her nipples would become erect in
response to his flirting, whether her pussy would ************* lubricate.
As I daydreamed about the possible scenarios, I suddenly imagined Anne
naked, laying on her back, her legs spread wide, bucking her pelvis
wildly to meet the thrusts of Rick's invading cock. Certainly, I had
never witnessed such a scene when Anne and I make love. It dawned on me -
as these illicit thoughts cluttered my mind - that my own dick was hard
beyond any normal erection.

That night I attacked Anne with a fervor. I wanted to reassure myself of
my potency. But, Anne reacted as always, reservedly and in control. Even
though I fucked her with what I thought was superhuman intensity, she
laid there, moving slowly, waiting for me to finish. At the ordained
moment, Anne reached up and began to fondle my balls and the sensitive
skin between my scrotum and asshole. Anne knows that this sensation
always sends me over the edge. Even though I desparately wanted to hold
off until her belly rippled with an orgasm, the sensation was too great,
and at the last moment, the image in my mind returned to Rick slamming
his dick into Anne's cunt. I climaxed violently and collapsed. With her
normal grace, Anne slipped out from under me and rolled over to go to
*****. Yet, for me, these unsettling images continued, until I too fell
into a deep *****.
For the next week, I continued to be haunted by these perverse images of
Rick and Anne in the throes of all varieties of sexual couplings. I found
myself masturbating with a fervor that I hadn't known since adolescence.
Of course, Anne was oblivious, remaining the picture of propriety.
Perhaps fortunately, I didn't have occasion to speak with Rick during
this timeframe, either. the situation began to take on the hazy quality
of a wicked nightmare. That is, until a local charitable cocktail party.

It was a typically staid affair, with all the frigid wives parading in
their diamonds and designer duds. The husbands, with their fat wallets
and brokerage accounts, sucked down fine whiskey while sharing off-color
jokes about their bimbo secretaries.
Anne was in her element. She was dressed impeccably in a black, backless
number bearing some French designer's moniker. Actually, it was rather
unusual for Anne, for it displayed her cleavage and a healthy dose of leg.
Of course, Anne had a unique way of looking classy and not the least bit
sensual.
After a couple of vodka and tonics, I was startled by Ricks booming
voice. It was quite a surprise since Rick normally eschewed these
suaree's. "More boring than trolling for babes at a convent," I remember
Rick once saying.
"Rick, what the Hell are you doing here?"
"Bill, you cynical bastard! I'm here because I care deeply about the
very same things that everyone else here cares about"
"Oh, and just what would that cause celeb be, eh Rick?"
"Something about irradiating the Bosnian, homosexual humpback whales, I
think." Rick smirked, and in a sotto voice said: "You know, Bill, I've
changed my take on these society bashes. While I still believe that the
vast majority of pussies present haven't had a good ploughing in the last
decade, I've concluded that this fact presents someone like me with
endless possibilities."
"God, Rick, you are such a complete predator!" I replied.
With that comment, Rick glanced over towards Anne, who was engaged in
some banal conversation with the hostess of the party, and remarked: "So,
speaking of cunts yearning to be filled, how's our little girl, Bill?"
Flushed with anger and indignance, all I could muster was: "Fuck you,
asshole!"
"Now, now, Ricky boy, remember our wager. Besides you're so confident
about Anne's fidelity that there's nothing to worry about, right?"
With that, Rick made a beeline towards Anne. On the one hand, I felt
like intervening. On the other, I truly wanted the vindication of Anne
spurning Rick's base advances. In the end, I drowned my indecision in
more vodka and tonics.
As the evening wore on, my stomach felt oddly queasy. This feeling was
exacerbated every time I lost sight of Anne. Yet, throughout, I could not
ignore the aching in my balls.
To my frustration, Rick had succeeded in cornering Anne into a long one
on one conversation. This was quite surprising since Anne was notorious
for her ability to work a crowd. Many times, people would come up to Anne
and apparently interject themselves into the conversation. Normally, Anne
would use the interruption as an opportunity to move on. At the very
least, Anne would always graciously welcome the new party into the
discourse. Yet, on this evening, Anne's body language caused the
interlopers to move on after only a comment or two, leaving her and Rick
to themselves.
Finally, the event was coming to an end, and the caterers began to pack
up. Anne remained clearly in sight, and fully clothed, albeit in
conversation with Rick. At last, I felt a sense of relief and victory, as
Anne left Rick and walked over to me. My elation was short-lived, however.

"Honey, I don't feel like calling it a night yet. Rick's invited us to
join him for ****** and dancing at a club. What do you say, it'll be fun,
especially after you've had to put up with this boring purgatory for
hours."
I had no choice but to agree. I certainly couldn't beg off and tell that
I had wagered her fidelity for some good billable work. Likewise, I would
be breaching the deal with Rick if I interfered.
"Sure, honey, that sounds great." While I was less than enthusiastic, I
rationalized away the risk that Rick might actually succeed. After all
Anne had done nothing improper, yet.
Perhaps ill advisedly, I had more vodka and tonics when we reached the
club. The dim lights and smokey air of the club further clouded my self
induced ********* haze. The loud music also rang in my ears and distorted
the conversation. Rick had strategically sat next to Anne in the booth,
relegating me to the other side of the table. My inability to make out or
participate in the dialogue heightened my paranoia.
Rick was chatting up Anne with aplomb, and had even manuvered his arm
around her shoulder. When it came time for dancing, I was in no condition
to spell Anne from Rick's devious onslaught. Putting aside my agreement
not to intercede, my cordination was completely shot from the ********.
At first, it was fast dancing, leaving Rick little opportunity for
bodily contact. However, late in the evening, the music slowed and Rick
pressed himself close to Anne. My senses may have been dulled, or my
paranoia rampant, but I could swear that I saw Anne gring her belly into
Rick's bulging groin. Maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself, but as I
downed my n-teenth vodka and tonic, I began to visualize illicit pictures
of Rick fucking Anne ferociously with Anne bucking back like a thousand
dollar slut.
Rick and Anne had, meanwhile, danced their way to the most remote and
dark corner of the dance floor. Again, my perceptions might not have been
acute, but I am sure I saw Rick and Anne engaged in a never ending,
french kiss while Rick slowly stroke her ass and fondled the sides of her
breasts.
Blessedly, closing time finally arrived. As we staggered to the door, I
surrendered to Anne the keys to the car. Rick said something about a
nightcap at his place and, for an instant, my heart stopped. But, for
some reason, Anne declined. I poured myself into the leather passenger
seat of our BMW. Before Anne got in she said "Ooops, just a second I
think I left something in the club."
I was able to watch Anne in the passenger rearview mirror as she walked
back to the club. But, she didn't go in. Instead, she went up to Rick as
he was unlocking the door to his Mercedes. Again, they kissed...not very
long though. I could see Anne and Rick exchange brief words. With a sly
smile, Rick placed his hand on Anne's right tit as she turned to walk
back to the car.
Anne made a little small talk on the drive home, but her thoughts were
clearly elsewhere. Although my cock was turgid all evening long, the
******* caused me to elect ***** over a desparately needed fuck once we
got home. Yet, during the night, I slept fitfully, awakening often. At
least twice, I heard Anne breathing heavily and the rhythmic sound of her
hand vigorously at work between her legs.
The next day, Rick called and invited me to lunch. I hoped that he would
simply take pleasure in the fact that he had groped my wife, and let the
"wager" drop. But, this hope was dashed almost immediately.
"Billy boy! How're you feeling after all that *****. Probably not as
good as I was "feeling" last night, if you catch my drift."
The sinking feeling in my stomach again sank in, and I could actually
feel my manhood shrink.
"Look," I implored, "why don't we just call the bet a draw"
"No go, Billy. That wouldn't be very sporting. Especially after all my
hard work. But, I'll tell you what: Let me try to ask Anne out alone just
once. If she turns me down, I yield the point."
"Okay. It's a deal." I reluctantly agreed, believing that Anne would
never risk being seen alone, in public, with Rick.
Rick was smirking like a cat with canary feathers hanging out of its
mouth.
"What the hell are you smiling about!"
"Well, Bill, I forgot to share one little fact before you agreed: I
already asked and Anne accepted. We're going out tonight."
I felt as if I was going to implode. That morning, Anne had asked for me
to watch the kids because she was going to have a girl's night out with
her best friend, Kathy. We had allowed one another "night's out" since
our last ***** was born as a method of preserving our sanity. I never
dreamed that Anne might use this arrangment to fool around on me. Of
course, Rick could be bullshitting me. I'll never put that above him.
"Tell you what Bill," Rick continued, "at the end of the evening I'll
give you a call to let you know that Anne's on the way home. Just to make
it interesting, I'll let the phone ring once if nothing happens, twice if
she only allows a little petting like last night, three times if she
blows me, and four rings if she is well fucked."
When I got home that evening, Anne was busily getting ready to go out.
But, she didn't act or dress any differently than on other occasions. I
rationalized that Rick was simply torturing me, and that Anne was going
out with Kathy.
"On the way out the door, Anne gave my her traditional peck, and said:
"Kathy and I are going to catch that new French film and maybe go out for
dinner and ****** afterwards. It's a three hour movie, so I'll probably
be late... no need to wait up."
Initially, ignorance was bliss. I chose to disregard Rick's boastfulness
and, instead, trust Anne's honesty. Yet, once I put the kids down, my
mind began to wander. A combination of jealousy and uncertainty gnawed at
my brain. But, at the same time, I felt bad about doubting Anne.
By 10:30 PM, my stomach became unsettled in the same fashion as the
night before when Anne and Rick were on the dance floor. By 11:30 PM, my
paranoia overcame reason and I thought about ways to confirm Anne's
fidelity.
So, in a very sophomoric manner, I called Kathy's telephone number.
Embarrassed, I almost hang up after the second ring, but then a groggy
voice answered "hello". It was unmistakably Kathy's voice, and it sounded
as if I had awakened her from a deep *****. Flabbergasted, I set down the
receiver without saying a word.
To my ironic dismay, I had proven that I wasn't paranoid. Anne was out
with Rick.
As midnight eased into the early morning hours, my mental imagery was
*******. I would alternate between fantasies of Rick fucking Anne in all
different positions, with fantasies of Anne resolutely turning down
Rick's advances, saying "No, I'm a married woman!"
Tellingly, my cock was rock hard as I imagined Rick ploughing into
Anne's pussy. With guilty perversion, I stroked myself to an incredible
orgasm, which brought on *****.
Suddenly, I awoke with the sound of the telephone. I looked at the clock;
it was 2:26 AM! It seemed like an eternity before the phone rang for a
second time. I quickly rationalized that Anne had already engaged in a
heavy petting session with Rick, so this second ring should not be that
surprising. But, just then, the phone rang for a third time. The shock of
the thought of Anne sucking on Rick's dick staggered me. I waited with
dreaded anticipation, wondering if the caller had hung up.
BBBRRRRIIINNNGGG! The fourth ring pierced through the darkness of my
bedroom. Instantaneously, my cock erupted in another climax without the
aid of manual stimulation.
There I laid in the dark. My belly covered with my own cum. The phone
hadn't rung a fifth time. Yet, I still wondered whether Rick was
intentionally torturing me. After all, this was hardly evidence that Anne
had succumbed to Rick's seduction. At most, it merely suggested that Rick
and Anne had been together. While their being together was not
particularly comforting, it certainly didn't prove infidelity.
So, I waited for Anne to get home.

She arrived about fifteen minutes after the fourth ring of the telephone.
Anne slipped into the bedroom without turning on the light. Apparently,
she thought I was a***** and I didn't disabuse of the notion. She seemed
somewhat unsteady on her feet, perhaps the result of a little too much
*******. Unfortunately, it was too dark to make out anything more than
her silhouette as Anne discarded her clothing into the hamper. Nude, she
made her way to the bathroom and closed the door. I was a bit surprised
to hear the shower since Anne normally showered in the morning. But, it
did afford me an opportunity to inspect her dirty clothes.
At first, I noticed nothing abnormal other than the smell of smoke that
garments always collect in restaurants and nightclubs. Of course, I
didn't want to turn on the light so my inspection was hampered. When I
retrieved Anne's panties from the hamper, I felt an obvious wetness. In
fact, the crotch was thoroughly sopping. Instinctively, I brought the
soiled panties to my nose. The aroma was striking. While I immediately
recognized the feminine smell of Anne's sexual lubricants, there was some
other smell even more evident. It was a familiar, pungent aroma ...it was
the same fragrance that I smelled twenty minutes earlier when my balls
spewed my second load of the night.
Oddly, these mixed remnants were not in the least bit offensive. I
slipped the panties into one of my drawers for further examination in the
daylight hours.
When Anne exited the bathroom, she had already turned out the light so
again my vision was impaired. But, she did walk as if she had just
finished a 15k road race. Anne slipped a white nightgown over her head
and climbed into to bed.
There was no effort by Anne to make physical contact with me. Instead,
she rolled over on her stomach with her face away from me towards the
wall. Within seconds, I could hear the sound of her deep breathing as if
she was already in REM *****.
I didn't want to wake her, but my curiosity persisted. After about
thirty minutes, I extracted my pen light from my bedstand and flicked it
on under the covers. Anne's nightgown had ridden up, fully exposing her
legs and ass. Just then, she moved her right leg giving me a clear view
of her pussy from behind. I was amazed by what I saw.
Anne's labia were swollen and pink. In the place of her normal little
slit was a gaping opening where I thought I could see all the way up her
vagina to the cervix. There were no apparant fliuds; she must have
cleaned and dried herself in the shower.
I marveled at the sight. It was something I had never even seen, not even
on our wedding night. I could only imagine the size of the organ that
must have done this damage to Anne's womanhood. I certainly wouldn't be
enjoying the pleasures of Anne's tight cunt for some time, if ever again.

Approach avoidance. In the morning, while Anne slept, my feelings
alternated between abject depression and wanton lust. Fortunately, when I
began to slip in the abyss of bemoaning the fact that Anne had been
unfaithful, I pulled out Anne's panties. The negative thoughts dissipated
as my erection grew. The fluids had dried into an obvious yellowish stain,
but the odor remained unmistakable. I found the aroma intoxicating.
I found myself masturbating frantically in the bathroom as I held Anne's
soiled panties pressed to my nose. As I came, I knew that this intense
sexual experience was addictive, and not one easily dismissed.
Yet, as I drove to work the depression began to set in. My self-esteem
was suffering from being cuckholded.
A little after 11 AM, my secretary buzzed in to let me know that Rick
Robertson was on the line. I knew that this call would come, but my heart
began to race nonetheless. Surprisingly, Rick said nothing about the
night before, instead concentrating his comments on my draft of the
Berringer contract. He then suggested that we get together for lunch to
discuss some of the deal points.
I felt strangely uncomfortable around Rick at lunch. Every time he
looked at me, I wondered what he was thinking. Was he remembering how he
had fucked Anne last night? Was he wondering what kind of a wimp I was to
allow my wife to be screwed by another guy? Had Anne said anything about
my sexual prowess?
After we had finished up talking about the Berringer deal, there was a
very pregnant pause. Rick just sat there and stared, a smirk begining to
form on his face. I couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. I felt as if I
was out of control, in a free fall.
Finally, Rick ended my misery. "So, I guess I proved my point. And, gee,
Bill, I'm really sorry about the condition of Anne's pussy. I never
dreamt that she could be so tight after years of marriage."
Rick had done it again: pushed my button. I really should have just
admitted it and walked away with my tail (or dick) between my legs. But,
I don't know if it was masochism or simply sheer stupididty, I took an
indefensible and idiotic position.
"Rick, you've proved nothing. Anne was out last with her friend Kathy. I
know it for a fact. You have no evidence that you nailed Anne, other than
the fact that you sat at home and called my phone number late last night.
The fact that you know how to dial my phone number proves nothing."
Rick was honestly taken aback by my vigorous defense. After a moment, he
just shook his head increduously and laughed. "Okay, if proof is what you
want, proof is what you'll get."
As we parted, Rick was still smiling and shaking his head. On the other
hand, I was kicking myself. What had I done?! I had just invited Rick to
go after Anne again! As I continued to to marvel at my incredible gaff, I
began to suspect that my subconscious may have played a very significant
role in my actions. Indeed, I could feel my cock swell as I considered
the prospect of a return engagement between Rick and Anne.
The next week, Anne asked for another "girls night out." Of course, I
had to agree. This time she dressed in a more provocative manner: a black
silk slip dress, no bra (something I had never seen Anne do before) and I
think she was wearing black thong panties (to my knowledge Anne didn't
own any underwear of this type). Anne concocted no alibi this time,
rather she simply kissed me on the cheek and said not to wait up.
After the kids were a*****, I drank three beers and retired to my bed
sans clothes. With absolutely no sense of personal dignity, I fondled and
sniffed Anne's cum soaked panties while imagining the salacious things
that she and Rick must be doing at that very moment. I stroked myself to
at least two good climaxes before falling a*****.
Even in my dreams, I saw Anne's slender legs wrapped around Rick's torso,
bucking frantically as he battered her crotch repeatedly with his thick,
erect penis. Just as I heard Anne moaning in orgasm in my dream, and
visualized Rick's balls tightening and shooting their load into Anne's
spasming cunt, a piercing sound returned me to consciousness. It was the
phone.
In an almost Pavlovian manner, I sat up in bed on the first ring. With
the second ring, I regained my orientation. The third ring brought a
tingling sensation to my testicles and nipples. The fourth ring triggered
another eruption from my dick. Then there was only silence as my semen
pooled on my belly and I looked over to see the clock radiate 2:49 AM.
When I heard Anne come in about 15 minutes later, I wondered what Rick's
idea of proof might be. Anne staggered into the bedroom. She pulled her
slip dress over her head. While the only light source was the LED on our
alarm clock, I could tell that she had no panties on.
"Damn," I thought. No chance for a fresh source of mastabatory smells.
Then, to my surprise, Anne just climbed into bed naked, without taking a
shower or putting on a nightgown. I could smell ******* on her breath and,
I think, Rick's cologne in her hair. She rolled over towards me, and
kissed me, deeply thrusting her in my mouth. Her lips were loose and her
saliva flowed freely all over my cheeks and chin. Anne had never kissed
me in such a wanton and messy fashion before. The taste of ******* was
unmistakeable, but mixed in were flavors with which I was unfamiliar. I
don't know if it was the *******, but when Anne finally withdrew her lips,
my face was coated with a sticky and slimey residue.
Before I could fully assess the situation, Anne grabbed the back of my
hair with both hands and ********** guided my head underneath the sheets.
My cheek brushed her left nipple which was erect and harder than I had
ever experienced. Anne kept pushing my head until I was between her legs.
This was quite out of the norm; Anne had never demanded oral sex before.
If I went down on her, it was always at my instigation.
There I was in the darkness, under the covers. For all intents and
purposes, I was blind. Yet, my other senses were heightened. The aroma
emanating from Anne's crotch was pungent. It was the same odor I
remembered from her soiled panties, only intensified. There were
squishing sounds coming from her pussy, and every so often, a little
"fart" of air would escape.
Impatiently, Anne ground my face into her groin. I could feel a hot,
slimey, sticky pool of fluids soaking her pubic hair and cradled by the
folds of her spread labia. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and extended
my tongue into the void between her thighs. The opening to Anne's vagina
was enormous. It seemed wide enough to consume my nose, mouth and chin.
My tongue caught a huge glob of the flow which oozed from her cunt. The
strong taste was foreign to me: tart and salty with a tinge of the musky
flavor of Anne's vaginal juices.
Now there was no denying it. I was swallowing the semen Rick's cock had
deposited deep in my wife's pussy. Common sense, Judeo-Christian morality
and years of hetereosexuality dictated that I should be revolted. But, my
rigid dick and throbbing prostate said otherwise. With a fervor, I began
tonguing Anne's swollen and distended labia lips seeking to savor the
remnants that had already escaped from her cunt. I sucked what seemed
like a endless stream of semen from the depths of her vagina. All the
while Anne moaned and rocked her pelvis against my jaw. I heard myself
whimpering with satisfaction as if I were a suckling ****** taking
nourishment from a ******** tit.
Time and time again, I tried to extend my tongue and swab Anne's cervix,
but I couldn't. Rick's dick must have been not only thick as a redwood
but long as one. He must have pounded Anne's cervix well up into her
belly.
After Anne had spasmed in orgasm, a thicker flow of cum poured forth. I
lapped it up and became to wonder if Rick's sperm had made its way into
Anne's womb. Even though I knew Anne was on the pill, the thought of
Rick's virile seed swimming in search of one of Anne's eggs, sent me over
the edge. Without even touching myself, I came again, my semen pooling on
the mattress as I continued to coax every drop of Rick's semen from my
wife's folds.
After what must have been ninety minutes of furious efforts, Anne had
climxed three times and was clean as a whistle. I, too, was hard again,
but Anne was a***** and there was nary a dollop of sperm left in her
vagina. With some hesitancy, I decided to fuck Anne myself. I positioned
my penis at her gaping hole. Literaly no pressure was necessary as my
dick disappeared. It was a loose, warm sensation as I moved my erection
around this vast expanse that had once been a tight little pussy known
only to me. There was ample room for more and Anne's vagina almost
engulfed my balls as well. Apparently, the absence of friction allowed
Anne to ***** through the five minutes of my squirming inside of her. I
tried to hold off as long as possible, but the thought slipping around in
my wife's used pussy was too much. I added my light load to the scene of
the crime and fell into a deep *****.
The next morning (which seemed to come to soon), I awoke with a crusty
residue coating my face. Rick and Anne's combined juices had dried like a
tight mask. I showered and left for work, leaving Anne a*****. Her face
seemed contented.

Predictably, Rick called mid-morning to schedule a lunch. I was resigned
to the continued *********** of picking up the check for the man who made
me a cuckhold.
Rick was beaming with his sense of achievement when I met him at the
cafe'. As we sat down at our table, Rick crowed "So, how's my boy? I hope
your mommie taught you to be a good loser."
Perhaps I lacked the depth of conviction from my earlier denials, but I
surprised myself by conjuring up enough strength to say: "Rick, I'm
really tiring of this entire charade. You haven't accomplished anything,
and you certainly have no proof."
"Tsk, tsk, tsk.." Rick replied as he shook his head condescendingly. As
he did, Rick reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a pair of black
silk thong panties which he deposited on my plate.
I immediately recognized the panties as the pair that I had seen on Anne
for the first time, the night before. After regaining some composure, I
picked the panties up with my finger and, while dangling them in front of
Rick, said "Rick, I'm surprised, I never knew this side of you. After all,
a man of your station in life shouldn't wear women's underwear!"
Rick was not amused. "Look, pencil-dick ... this is your proof. Those
are Anne's panties that I kept as a souvenir from last night."
"Oh, that explains the phone call in the middle of the night." I smirked.
"It was you up to your old games. Damn near woke both me and Anne up. Oh,
by the way, Anne doesn't wear or own any thong panties."
As I surreptiously slid the panties in my jacket pocket (for later
examination and sniffing), Rick's face got red and angry. Then, he
relaxed and suddenly became to laugh loudly.
"Okay, okay, I get it. I think I know what's going on." Rick gasped
after stifling his guffaw. "Kinda strange, but whatever floats your boat..
! If you want undeniable proof, you shall have it."
The rest of the lunch proceeded without mention of Anne or the wager.
But, I did catch myself noticing Rick's cologne, the same smell that Anne
brought home. I also began to imagine what Rick looked like in the nude
with particular time spent visualizing his erect cock and heavy testicles.
Indeed, kinda strange for a married, hetero guy.
For the next few days, I wondered what kind of proof Rick had in mind.
To my disappointment, Anne did not ask for any "girls' nights out." I
was doubly disappointed to discover that the "prize" thong panties did
not have any dried semen. There was the discernable aroma of Anne's
juices, but missing was the pungent odor of a man's ejaculate.
The next Wednesday, Rick called and invited me to lunch, again. I was
surprised. Anne hadn't gone out at all the preceding evenings. My
curiosity was piqued as I hurried to keep the lunch date. I was anxious
and it didn't help that Rick was running late. I was so nervous that I
ordered a *****, something that I never do at lunch. After about ten
minutes of fidgiting, The waiter came over and handed me an envelope with
my name on it. I opened it and found a novelty greeting card with the
picture of a shapely young woman bending over to reveal an ass comparable
to Anne's with lace panties. On the inside, it read "The End is in Sight!"
Underneath was handwritten: "Your absolute proof awaits you in the master
bath of your house ...Rick"
I threw a $20 down on the table and left the cafe' like a bat out of
Hell. Fortunately, there were no speed traps between the restaurant and
my house. When I arrived, I noticed that Anne's car was still in the
garage, but she was nowhere to be found. Nevertheless, I headed straight
to the master bath. But, to my frustration, there was nothing! Absolutely,
nothing was amiss or out of the ordinary! Like a fumbling treasure
hunter, I looked in every drawer and cupboard, under ever towel, even in
the toilet tank. Zippo! I was ready to go track down Rick and knock the
**** out of him, when I heard the front door open. Anne's laughter was
immediately recognizable. But, she was talking to someone else and moving
towards the bedroom.
My instincts motivated me to hide or run. In retrospect, it was absurd.
Here I was in my own home, feeling like a burglar.
Since I knew that the french doors to our bedroom were locked, I was
trapped in the master bath. I switched off the light, and hoped that Anne
didn't need to use the facilities.
Initially, I sat quietly on the commode. Anne's voice grew louder as I
heard her enter the bedroom. When I could make out what she was saying, I
was shocked.
"God! I'm dripping wet! My panties are soaking." Anne exclaimed
breathlessly.
Whether by serendipity or by plan, I realized that I could see most of
the bedroom including our bed in the reflection of the vanity mirror.
There, I saw a reversed image of Anne unzipping a stylish red skirt and
letting it fall to the floor where she kicked it away from her feet. She
was still wearing matching red pumps and thigh-high stockings. The tail
of her white, silk blouse covered her panties.
Although I was somewhat disoriented by the mirror image, I realized that
she was looking towards the door to the living room as she began to
slowly unbutton her blouse. As she did, she licked her lips in a
seductive manner I had never seen before. With a glistening pout, she
finished with the last button. Anne opened the blouse that slipped from
her shoulders to the floor. To my surprise, Anne was not wearing a bra.
Her 34B breasts were fully exposed with her nipples erect. With her
blouse gone, I could finally see Anne's panties. They were skimpy, high-
cut and, she was right. There was a very noticeable dark wet spot seeping
through the crotch.
Anne's gaze was still directed towards the bedroom door. "Do you still
like what you see?" Anne asked in a deep voice.
I heard a male voice reply "umm-hmmm."
"Prove it. Show me that you like it." Anne commanded.
From my angle, I couldn't see her male guest, but I knew it had to be
Rick. I heard the sound of rustling clothes and, then, an unzipping
zipper. With that sound, Anne's eyes grew very large as she looked down.
Her breathing grew faster, and she started manipulating her hard nipples.

"God. It looks even larger in the day light." Anne licked her lips again
while working her nipples.
Suddenly, Anne squatted down gracefully keeping her balance in her high
heels. With her legs spread, emphasizing the growing wet spot that now
almost saturated the entirety of her underwear, Anne beckoned with her
index finger. "Please ... bring it here. I need to taste it, feel it ...
"
In anticipation, both Anne and I waited. On the edge of the mirror,
I saw a bulbous cock-head, pre-cum fluid dribbling from the hole. It was
a little difficult to estimate its size given the absence of a reference
object. But, it seemed abnormally large. Slowly, the shaft came into view.
It too seemed thick and had bulging veins. I expected to immediately see
Rick's body, but more and more shaft followed until it culminated in dark
brown pubic hair with commensurate testicles swaying heavily between
Rick's muscular legs.
When Rick reached Anne, I could finally appreciate the massive size of
Rick's genitals. His cock-head touched the bottom of her chin while
brushing Anne's nostrils. Its length and girth were far greater than my
slim 6 inches. I mentally guessed 9-10 inches in length and, as Anne
grasped his dick, her hand could not quite encircle it.
In a worshipping manner, Anne's tongue dabbed up Rick's pre-cum. She
then closed her eyes and kissed the tip of the mammoth rod. Just as
Anne's lips parted wide, in a optimistic effort to give passage to Rick's
erection, Rick motioned to the bedstand and said: "Shouldn't you cover up
Bill's picture?"

With a wicked smile, Anne got up and retrieved our wedding photo that
she kept next to the bed. She strategically placed it on the bed, inches
away from Rick's cock. Then Anne lifted Rick's cock to the photo and, in
a flaunting manner, slurped the head into her mouth.
The *********** excited me. Anne's lips were strecthed taut and her jaw
wide open as she did her best to fellate Rick. In the background was our
wedding picture. Despite her efforts, Anne's petite mouth could not
accomodate more than 4 inches of Rick's dick.
After about five minutes of valiant efforts, Anne stopped sucking and
stode up. She slipped her sopping panties off and laid back on the bed.
Her legs were splayed wide and I could clearly see her engorged labia
glistening with her lubricants.
"Rick, I need you to fuck me good! It's about time that I get really
well fucked in this bed!"
That hurt, but my own erection throbbed.
Anne positioned out wedding protrait at the end of the bed between her
legs. Rick climbed between her thighs and began to run the tip of his
cock up and down Anne's slit. It seemed to dwarf Anne's crotch. Anne's
eyes shut and she began to moan softly as Rick prepped her for entry. As
he did, there was a squishing sound as Anne's juices flowed.
"I think your pussy is starting to get used to me, its opening wide."
Rick remarked.
"Ummm-hmmm. It misses your thick, long cock. It wishes that you were
fucking it raw 24 hours a day."
I was amazed. The impossible seemed to begin to happen. Anne's petite
pussy was expanding beyond anything I had ever witnessed. Rick's cock-
head disappeared and Anne sighed, breathed in deeply and tilted her
pelvis to aid the invader. The lips to her vagina were stretched around
Rick's girth as he slowly plunged deeper. After about three minutes of
manuvering, I could no longer see Rick's cock; his grapefruit-sized balls
rested in the crack of Anne's ass. It was an awesome sight.
Rick began to pump the full length of his cock in and out of Anne's
distended cunt. Anne became very vocal as Rick's tempo increased, moaning
and whimpering in obvious ecstasy. The slurping noises coming from her
pussy as Rick pounded away were nasty. With each thrust, Anne's body
would recoil and her breasts wiggle as Rick's penis rammed her cervix
further back into her abdomin.
To my amazement, Anne's stomach began to undulate with an orgasm after
about five mintues of frantic fucking. Rick wouldn't let up and allow the
spasms to subside. Instead, he worked Anne's pussy like a finely tuned
instrument, bringing her again and again to climax until I lost count.
By know my own dick was throbbing as if ready to explode. Suddenly, in
the reflection of the mirror, I saw Rick's pace reach a crescendo, his
sperm-laden balls tightened and with an enormous grunt he launch his cum
into the deepest regions of Anne's overstretched vagina, at the door to
her womb. Rick's load was so voluminous that there was inadequate space
in Anne's vagina to accomodate both Rick's semen and his convulsing cock.
Thick, white cum oozed out around Rick's embedded shaft.
Then, I realized that my own cum was saturating my pants and running
down my leg.
After a momentary respite in which Rick and Anne (and I) caught their
breath, Rick withdrew his still erect member with a "plop" from Anne's
gaping opening.Anne proceeded to suck Rick for all she was worth. Anne's
cultured restraint and manners were all but gone; she slurped and lapped
with utter abandon. After about fifteen minutes of ministrations, Rick
rolled Anne over on to all fours and plunged back in doggy-style.
Rick spent the next 90 minutes fucking Anne in every imaginable position.
Twice more he spewed his semen into her pussy, each time his load seemed,
incredibly, to be as large as the first. Rick cum matted Anne's dark
pubic hair and flowed freely from her cunt after Rick withdrew for the
last time. Anne had had innumerable orgasms and collapsed, naked but for
the sweat glistening all over her body. Rick dressed walked over and
kissed Anne fully on the lips. Exhausted, she mumbled, "Thank you for
cumming ...please cum again."
Before Rick left the bedroom, he turned to the darkness in the
masterbath and looked directly into the vanity mirror. It immediately
dawned on me that reflections work both directions. Staring with a
satisfied smirk, Rick zipped up his fly with an arrogant flair. Without
saying a word, he turned and left.
I waited for another fifteen minutes to see if Anne would also leave,
but she was sound a*****.As I emerged from the bathroom, the smell of sex
permeated the room. I looked at my satiated wife splayed nude on our
marital bed with another man's sperm running out of her well-worn pussy.
The picture was too much for me to take. I climbed into bed between her
legs and proceeded to lick the remnants of the illicit coupling from her
folds. Anne moaned quietly, as my tongue darted in and out of her swollen
labia, but her eyes never opened. My own frenzy increased as I slobbered,
face down in her crotch. After sucking every available drop out, I
noticed that I had come again. Then, exhaustion overtook me as well, and
I fell into a deep *****.
When I awoke, it was 9:30 PM, Anne was out in the den watching TV with
the kids who had since come home from school. Embarrassed, I didn't say
anything to Anne. She, too, was silent although ther was a contented
smile on her face.
In the nine months which have passed since Rick gave me "absolute proof",
Anne will go out once or twice a week and return home in the wee hours
of the morning. Sometimes Rick will still call before she comes home and
let the phone ring four times. When Anne comes in, there is no doubt that
she has been well-fucked. Without mentioning anything, she strips out of
her clothes, climbs on top of me, stradles my head and lowers her sopping,
oozing pussy onto my mouth for cleaning.
This past week, after sucking down the last dollop of Rick's semen from
her now-permanently enlarged pussy, Anne surprised me by mentioning that
she was thinking about having another *****. Instantaneously, I shot my
load....You see, I hadn't cum inside her vagina for almost five months.
I wonder how she plans on getting pregnant?!

..

ok it's an oldie................... but a goody

..

subhub - this has to be my favourite! Thanks a bunch!

A spell-bending tale, thank you.

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