THE FOURTH RING

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THE FOURTH RING



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. Certainly, 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, porcelain 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 somewhat 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 shit....I'll 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 involuntarily 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 desperately 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

sleep. Yet, for me, these unsettling images continued, until I too fell

into a deep sleep.


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 drinks 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 alcoholic 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 maneuvered 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 coordination was completely shot from the drinking.


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 grinding 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

alcohol caused me to elect sleep over a desperately 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 booze. 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 baby was born as a method of preserving our sanity. I never

dreamed that Anne might use this arrangement 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 drinks 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 sleep. 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

torture. 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 sleep.


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 asleep and I didn't disabuse of the notion. She seemed

somewhat unsteady on her feet, perhaps the result of a little too much

alcohol. 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 sleep.


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 apparent fluids; 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.
 

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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 beginning 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 stupidity, 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 incredulously 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 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 asleep, 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 asleep.


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 masturbatory smells.


Then, to my surprise, Anne just climbed into bed naked, without taking a

shower or putting on a nightgown. I could smell alcohol 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 alcohol was

unmistakable, but mixed in were flavors with which I was unfamiliar. I

don't know if it was the alcohol, but when Anne finally withdrew her lips,

my face was coated with a sticky and slimy residue.


Before I could fully assess the situation, Anne grabbed the back of my

hair with both hands and forcefully 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 heterosexuality 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 infant taking

nourishment from a mother's 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

climaxed three times and was clean as a whistle. I, too, was hard again,

but Anne was asleep 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. Literally 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 sleep 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 sleep.


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 asleep. Her face

seemed contented.




Predictably, Rick called mid-morning to schedule a lunch. I was resigned

to the continued humiliation 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 drink, something that I never do at lunch. After about ten

minutes of fidgeting, 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

shit 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 bed stand 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 humiliation excited me. Anne's lips were stretched 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

accommodate 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 portrait 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 abdomen.


To my amazement, Anne's stomach began to undulate with an orgasm after

about five minutes 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 asleep. 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 sleep.


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 there 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 baby. 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?!

End.