Lilly

by

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Coercion, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Fiction, Cuckold, Slut Wife, Wife Watching, Wimp Husband, Gang Bang, Group Sex, Anal Sex, Cream Pie, Double Penetration, Pregnancy, .

Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Dominant male uses friend's submissive wife. some implied male on male sex (Not explicit.) however there is some very descriptive creampie action. Story told through the eyes of several different characters,

WARNING!! If creampie eating disturbs you do not read this story.

(Fuck world is an alternate ‘time line’ just like ours but with one major exception, in fuck world there are no STD’s or aids or any other type of disease that might be harmful to a person that has sex with multiple partners who exchange bodily fluids, also in Fuck World, when you fuck someone in the ass you never get shit on your dick and nobody ever gets arrested for prostitution even if it isn’t legal.)

{p}Chapter 1

Point of view Lilly Williams wife

I’m not a movie star, and I’m certainly not a super model. I’m too short. I look like someone took a shrink ray to a five ten super model and shrunk her down to five two, only I have tits and most models don’t. There not huge, but on my tiny frame they are a major feature in the terrain. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’m beautiful because I’m not. In fact I’m rather plain. My mousey brown hair doesn’t seem to respond to conditioners and looks more like a fire hazard than anything else. I have a slight overbite and there’s a gap in my front teeth like Michael Strahan. Still, at twenty three I am a pretty hot package.

What sets me apart from the pack is good genes. I have a killer body that my husband say’s is made for making love, which as it turns out, seems to have been a prophecy of sorts. Not however for making love, but for fucking, because through no fault of my own I’m getting fucked almost every day and from more than one man, sometimes more than one man at a time. Perhaps I had better explain.

My husband has several friends that he hangs with. They bowl together. They play golf and tennis together. They go to football, baseball games and have a weekly poker game that rotates between their houses. At least it did.

I have met Bill’s friends and I like them all ... except one, Buddy James. They say beware of men with two first names. Well in this case the warning applies. Buddy, most everyone calls him Bud, is a lying, domineering, crass, rude, crude and insensitive asshole and those are his good qualities, qualities that he actually seems to be proud of. The minute I met him I have had only disgust for him (he had his hand in his pants adjusting his penis). That in its self was not a so much of a problem. He was at our back yard Bar-B-Que and the neighbor’s daughter was standing right in front of him watching him manipulate his dick inside his pants. At one point he unzipped his fly, I guess to facilitate proper placement. Later I found out he never wears underwear.

My husband defends him, saying Bud is an acquired taste, like scotch. I hate scotch and I hate Buddy James.

Whenever Bud does something that embarrasses me or pisses me off I plead with my husband to quit inviting him to our home. I can deal with the asshole out in the world, mostly because our paths rarely cross. Bill makes excuses for the shit head even when I tell him of the sexual advances Buddy makes toward me and the inappropriate touching. Bill passes it off as too much alcohol.

“Lilly, Bud just had too many Bud’s that’s all.” My loving husband would say to me.

Which is bullshit; Buddy has goosed me when he was stone cold sober.

My husband is a handsome man. Very athletic and muscular, his sexual equipment is above average in length as well as thickness.

Buddy on the other hand is kind of blocky and has a beer gut resembling a woman in her seventh month of pregnancy. Several times he has been in our pool. The man is so hairy that I fear he is going to clog the pool drain. He always looks as though he shaved ... three days ago. His hair is never brushed and his bathing habits are questionable. Despite his gut Buddy is a strong man. His arms are bigger than my thighs, quite a lot bigger.

In addition to all these negative traits there is something intangible. Something that makes me fear the man and I finally figured out what it is ... only I found out too late. What is it I found out you ask? What is it that made me fear the bastard, what is it that makes me feel vulnerable when he’s near me? I told you it wasn’t my fault. I just happen to be made that way. To my dismay I am sexually submissive.

I had no idea. Well, I guess that’s not entirely true ... I had fantasies ... Fantasies that suggested my submissive tendencies, but I never acted on any of them. I told myself that all girls had these types of fantasies when going through puberty. The problem was even after I was married and had a family, I still kept having the same daydreams. Thoughts of being forced to sexually preform. To be coerced into fucking men against my will. Not just one but many. Gang bangs, rapes and other depraved acts that I am ashamed to even speak of. Yes Buddy scared the shit out of me and for good reason. He is dominant.

I suppose one of the reasons I never acted on these thoughts is that I segregated myself from dominant men like Buddy. I must have subconsciously feared I might act out. So when I found myself alone in my house with Buddy James my life as I knew it changed.

It was a Friday morning, Bill called me from work.

His picture came up on my IPhone.

“Hi sweetie.” I answered.

“Hi honey.” My husband cheerfully greeted me.”

I teased “You couldn’t help calling me because you missed me, right?

“Right,” Bill laughed. “Actually I told Bud he could borrow my belt sander. It’s in the garage on the top shelf in front of your car.”

“Buddy’s coming over here ... alone?”

“I don’t know. I suppose he will be alone. I didn’t ask, why?

“Oh, no reason, I would just prefer you be here if Buddy is here.”

“Lilly, relax. He’s just picking up a sander. I got to go honey. Bye.”

My legs were shaking I was still in my sleep shirt, which is the only thing I wear in bed. I turned to go and change into jeans when the doorbell rang. I jumped almost a foot off the ground.

I yelled. “Just a minute.”

I ran to our bedroom and grabbed the jeans I wore yesterday out of the hamper. I tucked in the sleep shirt and zipped them up, not bothering to button them, then I ran to the front door.

As soon as I opened the door it started.

“Oooh, tight jeans and no bra. Me like.” Bud said cave man style and laughed deep from his enlarged belly.

I pretended he hadn’t said anything. “Hi Bud. Bill called about the sander. It’s in the garage. You go around and I’ll open the garage door.”

Bud stepped into the house. “That’s ok I’ll just follow you through the connecting door. After you.” He instructed. “That way I will have a great view of that tight ass of yours.”

I blushed at his embarrassing remark and led the way to the garage. Why would I blush at a demeaning statement like that from such a horrible man like Buddy James?

I walked up and stood below the shelf that the sander was on and pointed. “It’s up there.”

Bud glanced at the sander than back at my wobbling breasts.

He smiled at me. He bent at the waist shoved his left hand between my thighs from the rear and picked me up bodily high enough that I could reach the sander. My insides dampened from the unexpected hand forcing the seam of my pants up into my pussy.

I screamed. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“I’m picking you up so you can get the sander.”

“LET ME DOWN.”

“After you get the sander. The longer you fuck around the longer my hand stays on your cunt.”

I sputtered, but had no retort. I felt the crotch of my jeans getting wet. I couldn’t believe my vagina was betraying me.

I turned for the sander when I felt my zipper sliding down.

“Buddy stuck his meaty paw inside my pants.”

“BUDDY!”

“No panties. Me like that too.”

“Put me down.”

“You got the sander?” He said digging around inside my pants. Pulling on my pubic hair rather roughly.

I grabbed the sander and practically shoved it into his face. “Here.”

“Put it on the bench when I let you down.”

“When my feet hit the floor, Bud grabbed my jeans and pulled them to the floor and stepped on the crotch. Then he grabbed me around the waist, picked me up out of them and kicked them out of the way. A thin trickle of liquid ran down my leg.

I was stunned and I was still holding the sander. He took it from me and placed it on the work bench. Then he snatched my sleep shirt from my body and tossed in the direction of my jeans. I was naked in front of a man who I knew was going to rape me and somehow I was excited by the thought.

My mouth was moving, but no sound came out of it.

Bud spun me around facing him, lifted me on top of the hood of my import, pushed my legs apart and shoved his dick into my sopping wet pussy. I hadn’t realized he had unzipped himself. If he was larger than Billy it wasn’t by much. It wasn’t the size that was pushing me to my orgasm, it was the way he was fucking me. I was just a cunt to deposit sperm into, nothing more. There was nothing nice, or caring, or even civil about the manner in which he pounded his cock into me. It was rape pure and simple, my pussy loved it.

.... There is more of this story ...

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