A Year of Cuckold Humiliations — He Cheats On Her at the Christmas Party
She witnesses her husband taking the young intern, and vows revenge.
In the next week I am releasing the first parts of three different stories that will have quite a few chapters. The first ones I’m giving away free, so there’s no pay break below.
But remember! If you want access to them all, and a personalised story each month, then:
The older guys out celebrating a younger brother’s 18th Birthday. The Millionaire driving her away in his Rolls Royce. The barman, the bar woman, the drunk businessman, the drunk workmen, the seedy boss, the butch lesbian, the students…
She had had them all. The list goes on. Every week for nearly a year, her lust and rage had dominated their lives. Husband and wife. Cheating husband to cuckold husband. Downtrodden wife to hot wife.
He had made it this far. Into December. But could he carry on? Could he take his punishment? She had promised something special, especially kinky, ridiculously nasty, horribly, erotically painful for his last few weeks of sexy suffering.
But let’s go back. To near the start.
“I will leave you,” she said.
“I’ll do anything. I love you. I can stop. It’s you I love,” he said.
“You don’t understand my pain.”
“But if I did?”
“If you did…” she paused, thinking about her plan…
But let’s go right back before that argument.
She could tell her husband was in his interns’ ass. She could see it on her face. He had a very large cook. Thick, wide, rigid at a moment’s notice.
She never let him up her that way. It was too painful. He had done it, long ago, but she’d fight and throw him off. Or she’d squirm and then scream. Sometimes she was so tight he couldn’t even get a finger in that way.
So, when she saw the young woman thrust face down on her boss’s desk at the office party, it was obvious he’d not gone for the kinder hole.
Bravely she took it though, as he slowly compressed himself closer to her, his great length filling her, stretching her out. The wife could see the way she swung between a dizzying adrenaline-filled high and crashing back to Earth as a shot of pain pierced the intern’s stomach.
The wife knew that feeling from when she was much younger, when her body could take it when she had had a lover less well endowed. It was a painful but also delicious feeling of being taken, filled, and used in the most direct, explicit, and challenging way you could be. It was often so sublime.
So, she knew that look in the interns’ eyes, her eyeballs rolling, her head flopping, her mouth hanging open. She was very young, barely in her twenties, still at university, on a work placement.
She knew all this because he had told her that there was a hot new girl in his office. He had hinted that she got the job because he wanted to give her one or at least have something distracting to look at.
That she had come with cleavage and a tiny tight skirt to the interview, that she had flirted with him and the other one intervening, the woman from HR had grinned, laughed later, at how obvious this cheeky student was being, trying to get the job with her body. He carried on saying that the woman from HR, Claire, had agreed she was a tight little slut, who would probably fuck the whole office in her 6 months there.
He had told her all this, his wife, and she had smiled, said, ‘that’s nice dear,’ not complained, not show her jealousy. He did this a lot and talked about other women, even the woman from HR. About how good they’d be to fuck. It made her sick and tormented her, but she loved him. So, what could she do?
At least the HR woman, Claire, was closer to his age. Impossibly fit and beautiful for her 40s but not half his age like this slip of a girl getting her arse skewered by his meat poker.
The light was dim in the office, but she could see well enough. She wasn’t surprised to find out he actually did it, that he fucked little needy tramps like this student slut. Stephanie! That was her name. Stephanie slut. It sounded childish and immature, but there was no doubt she was taking it like a woman. Taking it like a woman who was more used to being sodomised, even at her young age, than she ever was.
But then Stephanie would have been brought up with all that internet porn that makes great demands on the female body. She felt if she hid in the shadows long enough, she would see Stephanie on her knees, taking his cock in her throat. Straight out of her arse into her mouth. Like the porn.
Then no doubt, instead of licking and sucking at the end of his cock, the bulbous tulip, Stephanie would push her head down and force it to the back of her throat. It didn’t matter that the head is where the man feels all those good feelings. Watch a guy wank, he squeezes his hand around the end not the base when he’s gooning himself. But now that’s not enough.
From there, even if she was already choking and gagging, Stephanie would expect her husband to want it deeper. That he would grip her head, her golden hair, and ram it home. That unless her nose has hard against her boss’s pubes and her throat completely blocked, that she will have failed him. Failed as a woman. Surely, this ain’t in her job description.
‘The modern feminist loves to get her face fucked!’ the wife thought to herself. It sounded like a headline in a lad’s mag. ‘She don’t want caresses or even an orgasm, what she wants to be used recklessly. And hey, THAT probably will make her cum. Modern girls are such sluts. She should write that article; even if it was sarcastic, the men would believe it. And get off imagining it.
Was a throat pounding next? No. But it WAS going to get a lot kinkier.
Her husband moved up a gear. First, he tried to get some kind of reaction from his young ‘victim’. He went at her harder, real deep jolts that sent ripples through Stephanie’s body, sent papers everywhere as she flung out her arms at the ferocity of his onslaught. The desk moved a few inches across the room with each fresh thrust.
Now Stephanie’s eyes swapped between the spaced-out look of a drug addict (and she was probably high on coke, the wife realised then) and that of shock, pain, panic.
But like all good young women, wannabe stars of Only Fans, she took it in her stride. By now most women, women the wife’s age, the wife thought, would be pushing him off, moving away. At least saying “slow down.” But no, no, not young student slut Stephanie.
Of course, her young body could take it better. She remembered that she could back then. But not like Stephanie could. She wasn’t even touching herself to frig away the pain. A doll, a living fuck doll. Her husband loved it. You could tell. You could guess. What man in his late 40s, more than twice her age, wouldn’t be happy doing this to a beauty like her?
The wife was so jealous, crouching in the dark by the door into his office. She was only feet away from them, but they hadn’t seen her. If there wasn’t the loud music of the office party just down the corridor and the animal grunts of the two lovers, they would have heard her breathing.
She wanted to cry. Although she was only in her late 30s, this girl made her feel old. Her husband, ten years older than her, had swept her off her feet when she was only a little older than this intern.
But now she was old news, old flesh, old skin. She had probably been passed it in his eyes for years. How many juicy young interns had he ruined on this desk?
Did he ever fuck them in the pussy? Or did he only save that for his boring old wife? They did have sex, a lot of sex, but apparently, it wasn’t enough.
Who else did he do? Was it just ‘innocent’ young sluts, or did he have other women too? Her age? Older? She hoped not. Young, it made some sense. She couldn’t be young again, but if they were more like her age, what did that say about her?
She was about to have these questions answered. But before that her man had new cruel ways to enjoy her.
Now he was pulling out completely, letting her hole close up, and then forcing it back in. The whole 8 inches from zero to “fuck that’s deep!” in less than a second. Over and over, he did this. The intern’s face showed it all. She lay with her head side-on against the desk turned towards her, but unseeing, wide-eyed, mouth screaming. But she made no attempts to escape, no pleading, just white-knuckled it. Literally holding the edge of the table tighter and tighter.
He began filming her! The bastard had got his phone out, and it was trained on the poor girls’s ass. What a nasty man! She’d have to delete it for her, the wife thought.
Then she wondered, did she like that? Did the intern get off on being displayed across the internet forever? ‘She probably does…’
How long could she sit crouched here? Watching this? The girl looked like she could take it forever, and she knew her husband was prolonging it because he always came on demand. He was laughing! The cunt.
He’d probably sent the girl’s tortured ass to all his friends by now. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was beaming it out live. She was naked, her face in the shot; he was anonymous, with only his dick exposed. He was fully dressed still. She hadn’t realised what a bastard her husband was.
Then it got worse. Claire, the woman from HR, strode passed. How. she didn’t see her there she didn’t know. But it was dark, and Claire was no doubt very drunk.
The wife thought she might stop him, halt the sodomizing, and get her husband into some serious disciplinary trouble. But she didn’t unless you count smacking him on the arse as ‘disciplining’ him.
Then she snogged him, long and deep. He reached round and squeezed her still taut bum. This was not the behaviour of first-time lovers. These two had probably been fucking for years.
All the time they were kissing and fondling each other, her husband kept up a slow pace in the intern’s ass. He must have been up there 20 minutes by now at least.
Claire then moved over to Stephanie, crouched down, and kissed her, too. The wife couldn’t see this as well, but did watch the much older woman groping over the younger ones body. Clearly, she enjoyed what she felt. The intern stayed emotionless to it all. What drugs was she on?
Claire moved to the far side and was facing the wife now, presumably still not seeing her lurking in the shadows.
Her husband, reading some instruction from HR, started to turn Stephanie over. He did it, though, with his cock still firmly planted in her ass, so she had to suffer being turned like a screw on his hot poker.
She did it, though, the trooper, and then allowed the two older people to push her knees right back to her head. I might still be able to do that, the wife thought. Once, long ago, that had been her thing, opening herself up fully, dangerously, as exposed as possible.
Finally, the girl had some pussy attention as Claire frigged and fingered it. Her fingers were probably pushing against her husband’s cock as she drove them in deeper.
The girl came. She screamed her thrills so loud it might have been heard in the main office, where the party was. She could imagine dozens of men, maybe women, hearing this and making it here fast, ready for a turn on her.
Could it become a gangbang, or was her husband too selfish to share? The girl looked ready for anything.
After she’d given the young lady a well-deserved orgasm, Claire looked to her own needs. She took one of Stephanie’s arms, her left and bunched up the finger on her small hand.
Why? To push up into her sloppy, wet, well-used cunt. Claire sighed and threw her head back as the delicate hands of the girl disappeared inside her up to her wrists. Then, further in.
What shocked the wife next was not how brutally she fucked up and down the young woman’s arm, or the way Claire pinched her nipples, making triangles of her tiny tits, no it was the kiss.
Claire blew the wife a kiss right in the middle of grinding her way to orgasm.
She had seen her! Damn it! There was no doubt Claire blew her a kiss and then tongued her husband’s mouth again while making the girl fist her.
The wife couldn’t watch anymore, couldn’t take the humiliation. Her husband hadn’t seen her, she was pretty sure, but that bitch Claire had, and she loved it. Claire was enjoying the wife’s distress and taking the piss out of her. She couldn’t stay any longer. She ran. The wife ran away.
She wouldn’t see if the girl was to take on the whole office in a night of brutal use. She wasn’t going to see if her husband was ever going to cum. She wouldn’t see if the girl was made to lick pussy, as well as getting her mouth pounded so hard her lips would bruise. She wasn’t going to see if the girl could even walk anymore. The wife remembered struggling to walk the next day after much less anal abuse than this. She was going to escape instead, flee home, and cry into her pillow.
She didn’t see the man she crashed into, in her hurry. They toppled together to the floor and ended in an accidental embrace. His body was muscular and hard against her. She wanted to cry on his shoulder and probably then beg him to fuck her.
“Woo! You alright?” he said to her, helping her up and sitting her down in one of the reception chairs. She looked at him properly now. He was very handsome, probably ten years younger than her, but she didn’t know him like she knew a lot of her husband’s staff.
“I’m, I’m ok. I’m sorry; I’m just a little upset. I saw your boss in his office with Claire.” She couldn’t bring herself to say ‘husband,’ and he probably didn’t know who she was. She needed him to fuck her now. It had been fifteen years since she’d had anyone else, but today felt like a good day to start if she could stop crying for a moment. “Oh, silly,” he said, trying not to see her tears it seems, “Don’t be offended, it’s a Christmas party. This is what happens. He’s always doing it.”
That was it, the great fuck was a regular cheater. She was going to be bald, come right out and ask this stranger for his cock. “So, anyone can fuck anyone, anywhere at the Christmas party?”
“Oh yeah!” but he didn’t seem to get the hint. What does a woman have to do these days? Kneel with her mouth wide open?
“Whose he fucking? Claire again?”
Fuck! This was all regular and well-known, even by a new guy. She could never come into his work again.
“Yes, her and some young tart. An intern.”
“Stephanie?”
“Yes.”
“Hey! Why didn’t you say? He’s promised we can all have a ride on her. I’ve got to go!”
And so he was gone. Gone to fuck the young slut, probably in the ass too. She was invisible. But Claire was older; she couldn’t even blame her age.
As she walked to the elevator more men passed her, more looking to give Stephanie one.
By now, the girl would have all her holes busy, no doubt, her hands and probably her feet too. Cum would glaze her inside and out.
She thought she would have only have her rabbit for company, although he’d probably come back and want to fuck her as well. She worked out that this must have been a common scenario, but she’d never known.
A night alone at home had no appeal, but it was when she was thrusting her vibrating rabbit in and out that ideas began to form. A plan, an evil, deviant, sexy plan. The plan was ‘wrong,’ but there was nothing wrong with it. It was perfect.
Tonight she’d let him fuck her, but he’d also receive an ultimatum: leave or do as I say.
It was a win-win situation for her. He thought, well, he would have to learn to love it. It was going to be a long year for him…
Quite interesting to see this version of that night’s events
I love the way this is set up