Blackmailed Wife
Chapter 1

Caution: This Cheating Wife Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Consensual, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Blackmail, Cheating, Gang Bang, Group Sex, Interracial, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Sex Toys, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Size, Blackmailed wife fucked in the Ass sex story, Interracial blackmail sex story

Desc: Cheating Wife Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Linda Banks married with children gets seen by a man that took some pictures of her at UCLA while she was at a party. Linda had no idea about those pictures and they can ruin her life as she knows it. She will do anything ANYTHING to make sure her husband never sees them. and she does!

Sitting there in the car, I was going over in my mind the last three days of my life. I looked at myself in my hand mirror, wondering: How did I let it go this far and just where is all this going?

I should start back five days ago where my whole life turned upside down. I had just dropped off my two children at school and I decided for the very first time to stop by a donut shop for a quick cup of coffee and, of course, a glazed donut. I walked in and I moved in behind a man standing in line waiting his turn.

As we stood there waiting he turned around and said, "Good morning." I smiled and said the same back. He turned back around and then after a moment he turned around again and asked. "Did you go to UCLA in '87?"

I smiled and said, "Yes, Class of '89. Why do you ask?"

He said, "Oh, you just look so familiar. Is your name Linda Banks?"

I looked at him and I could not recognize his face whatsoever. I said, "No, it is Linda Jackson now; it was Banks but I'm married now. I'm sorry, but I just do not remember you. What is your name?"

He stuck out his hand and said, "It's Carl, Carl Nelson. We met only once and I'm sure you wouldn't remember me, but I never forgot meeting you. Do you live around here?"

I shook his hand and said, "Yeah, we live over on 19th Street. Do you live nearby?" He pointed across the street to a new neighborhood and said, "Over at Cypress Estates. It would mean a lot if you and your husband joined Jamie and I for a BBQ tomorrow night. We can talk about school."

I was pleasant and told him I would talk with my husband and I would call his wife. He gave me his telephone number, we spoke some more and later that day I spoke with my husband and after some discussion we decided that we would go meet Carl and his wife.

I called and spoke with Elisabeth Nelson and the next night we were at their house for the BBQ. Nothing really happened then; I mean, it was pleasant. Elisabeth was nice and so was Carl. We left around 9:30 and went home.

Yesterday after Clark went to work I received a Federal Express package. It was one of those large envelopes. I signed for it and, walking back into the living room, I opened it up. I could tell there were a lot of pictures inside and I pulled them out to see what they were and who sent them. I froze as I looked at the first picture. It was so raw and so dirty. There was this woman on her back with her legs up in the air and she was holding onto the ass cheeks of the man who was having sex with her. From the way that she was digging her hands into his ass cheeks it was very obvious that she was pulling on him as he screwed her.

Her face was not that clear, however from the way that her mouth was open it was also obvious that she was in ecstasy as the man was inside of her. Then I saw a red butterfly tattoo on her right upper thigh and a yellow flower just above her right ankle as she had her legs sticking up allowing him full access into her.

Oh, my God. Me! Shirley was with me the day that I had the yellow flower put on me. I looked closely at the picture but I could not really see my face clearly. I just sat down there in the hallway on the floor. I looked at the next picture and this time I had a different man in me; this man was dark, dark black, and I had my hands pulling myself open for him as I had the other man.

I looked at the next picture, then the next. There I was in 13 different pictures and in every picture there was a different man fucking me. There was more. In the 14th picture I was kneeling over one man sucking his dick while another man was behind me fucking me.

These pictures clearly showed my face and the ecstasy that I was enjoying what was happening to me.

I felt sick; I could not believe my eyes. The reason I could not believe it was, I had no memory of any of that happening to me. Sure, I did screw boys at UCLA but never like what I was looking at. In three different pictures I was between two black men while I sucked off a white man.

On the last picture, written in red ink, was this note: "Call me on my cell now or Clark gets a package just like this one." I sat there trying to figure out how whoever it was had managed to make up these pictures like this. Because of the football jerseys that the different men were wearing it looked like I was fucking the UCLA football team -- all of them.

I sat there and cried. I knew that if Clark saw these pictures that he would leave me. I knew that nothing I could say would make these go away. I managed to get up and I went into the den. I sat down on the couch and dropped the pile of pictures on the coffee table in front of me. I saw the note and telephone number; I reached for the phone and dialed.

"Hello." It was Carl Nelson's voice. I just listened.

"Is that you, Linda? I take it you received my package. You better talk to me or I'll just hang up and Clark will receive his package this afternoon."

"Yes, it's me. How, why, where did you... how did you... ? I didn't do those things."

"Well, at least you are asking the right questions. Funny thing about tattoos; they really tell the truth, don't they? Funny thing, too, about those pictures and the way you have kept yourself up all these years. Who can say when those pictures were taken? They could have been taken 15 years ago -- or they could've been taken just last month when Clark was in Texas for that week of training. I mean, look how great you look, and I just love the way you are grabbing every one of those men's asses as they fuck you."

"What do you want? Do you want money? I don't have much, but I can get it."

"Well, my dear, dear Linda, I have not been dreaming of you all these years just to have you pay me off with money. I gave up years ago of thinking I would ever come across you again, and I almost threw out those pictures a couple years ago, but aren't we glad I didn't? Oh, no, I don't want your money, my sweet -- I want you, and you're going to give me what you gave all those boys that night. You see, I was hired to take the pictures and when I wanted to fuck you, bitch, you laughed at me, you cussed me out, you told me you wouldn't fuck me if I was the last man on earth, yet you fucked the whole football team. Well, my dear, now you're not only going to fuck me, you are going to be my very own personal cunt.

"Here's how it's going to work. When I tell you to do something, you will do it -- only this time there won't be any drugs involved, this time you are going to remember everything you will be doing. Oh, you can say no. I give you that option. Go ahead and tell me, go ahead and say it... What, no reply, nothing, you're not going to tell me to fuck myself, you're not going to call me names?"

"No" I said softly. I was stunned, I guess when Shirley and I went to one of the many parties on campus that someone must have drugged me and I ended up fucking the football team and Carl took pictures of it all. I could not remember any of it. And since Shirley was not in any pictures I wonder if she was even there.

I felt beaten, I felt sick and so alone. I could not go to Clark; he thought I was a nice girl. I had lied to him and told him I had only been with one other man before I met him. What was I to do?

I said, "What now? I mean, what do you want me to do. Do you want me to meet you someplace so you can fuck me? I don't want you to come over here."


I was not used to having anyone yell at me, Clark never yelled at me even when he was mad. I didn't say anything; I just waited for Carl to speak again. After awhile he said, "Now, for starters, you better get it through your fucking hard head that you will do exactly as I say, and first thing I want you to do is go to that fucking computer of yours that you and Clark spoke so highly about as being the state of the art, get naked and wait for my e-mail. I want you to adjust your camera so I can see you sitting naked at your desk. Got that, bitch?"

"Yes, I got that. You want me to get naked and sign online. It will take me a few minutes."

"Don't make me fucking wait. Oh, and if you've been crying, wipe those fucking tears and put some makeup on." I heard the phone "click" as Carl hung up

I stood and walked to the bedroom where we have our computer. As I walked I began peeling off my clothes. I felt so trapped. By the time I made it to the chair, I was naked. I sat down and clicked on the Microsoft icon opening up to the net. Since we have DSL, there was no wait. I looked at the camera and I moved it over to the bookshelf to my left. I clicked on the camera icon and I could see myself sitting there naked.

I felt so sick as I waited. Suddenly my screen flashed on and I had an instant message from Carl. It simply said, "Turn your camera on so I can see your cunt."

I did, and then he sent me another instant message: "Smile, cunt, and start fingering yourself and play with that cunt." I have never been called such names; I mean never, ever. No one has ever called me a bitch, let alone a cunt.

I reached between my legs with my right hand and I began playing with my self.

Another message flashed on my screen: "I don't give a shit if you like it or not; make me think that you enjoy it. You better fucking make me believe that you are enjoying yourself. Now get the fuck with it, cunt!"

I wanted to scream, I wanted to yell, I wanted to cry... but what I did do was, I closed my eyes, put on a smile and give the son-of-a-bitch what he demanded, a show. I sure as hell did not want to piss him off. I tried to think of anything that could help me become even a little aroused, but it was no use, I just couldn't. Sure, I did know how to fake a climax, I think any woman can do that. Over the years I had faked it a few times with Clark. I heard my computer ping and ping. I opened my eyes to read: "Not bad, bitch. Now use something to fuck yourself with and I don't want to see any dildos. Use a cucumber, hairbrush or bottle. Fuck yourself and come for me. I want to see you climax hard."

I looked around the room and I saw one of my long neck perfume bottles. I got up, grabbed it and sat back down. I had to sit back a bit while at the same time I scooted my butt forward so I could open my legs more. I inserted it inside of me and began fucking my pussy. I closed my eyes and acted as if I was enjoying it. I heard a ping again; I opened my eyes to read: "Not too fast. Work it nice and slow, take your time, think of my big fat cock in there fucking your cunt."

I closed my eyes and began working the bottle in and out nice and slow, pulling it all the way inside and using my fingertips pulling it back out. I hate to admit it, but after awhile of doing it, the faking became easier, I mean, I began to feel a little pleasure from it. It did not take much longer before I was picturing a big fat cock fucking me. I reflected back on that big black man who had been fucking me in those filthy pictures.

I was picturing myself on my back with him deep inside of me, I recalled a man who was huge in school that I just fell head over heels over because he was so good in bed. He was an asshole out of bed, but in bed he was the best. I had my eyes closed and I pictured myself on my back, with my legs wrapped around his ass, holding onto him hard and pulling him by his ass as he fucked me. Soon he was fucking me faster and faster as I was getting closer and closer to a climax.

I found myself fighting to breathe as I came closer and the feelings of pleasure were taking over. I felt the wave of pleasure build and build as my climax began to race from my toes up to my brain as my pussy throbbed and clung to the fake cock fucking me. I felt myself build and build until I knew I could not go any further. My whole body shook as I sat there fucking myself thinking about that black man fucking me.

I heard ping after ping I opened my eyes to see message after message popping up on my screen, with in seconds my screen was full of instant messages from all different people, mostly men's names but they popped up so fast they were hard to read. I panicked I realized that my little show that Carl forced me to put on for him was not just for him. I don't know how he did it, but I must have had hundreds if not thousands of people watching me. Within moments my computer froze and the messages stopped coming.

The phone rang. I picked up the receiver next to me and Carl said, "Not bad for your first show. Your second show will be in one hour at 11. Then, for the rest of the day, every hour on the hour you will put on a sex show for me. I want you to move the camera from the side where you have it, and put it right in front of you. I want to see that fucking cunt of yours devouring whatever you use to fuck it with. I want a clearer shot of your face and that nasty fucking cunt. You got that, bitch? Oh yeah, sometime before noon you're going to receive another camera and a splitter. Just hold onto them; I'll set it all up when I get there."

I said, "I thought it was just you watching me. What if Clark saw me, or one of our friends? Why are you doing this? I will do anything you want, anything at all, please don't make me do that again, please. I'm sorry I laughed at you, I'm sorry I did not have sex with you. Please, have mercy, I don't want Clark to see this."

Carl said, "I like your attitude, bitch, and you're right about one thing: You're going to do any fucking thing I want you to do. If that means you sit there every hour for the next month putting on a sex show for the whole world to see, then by God you will do just that. You are fucking mine now. I own you body and soul. You either do what I say or pack your fucking bags and move out. You do know that Clarky boy will drop you like a hot fucking piece of coal when he finds out that you are nothing but a nasty, cock-loving, cock-hungry, cock-sucking slut. If he ever saw the way you took on the UCLA football team and he heard you begging them to keep fucking you over and over all night for eight hours, you know he would. Hell, the way you sucked them all off after they fucked you is a whole other set of pictures, not to mention the ass fucking they gave you. Hell, baby, these fucking pictures and the video we made of you all speak for themselves. Just make sure you do what the fuck I want, the way I fucking want it, and everyone will be happy. If you don't, you know damn well what will happen. Right? You hear me, bitch?"

I did not say anything, I just sat there crying again then he yelled into the phone, "I SAID, HAVE YOU GOT THAT, YOU FUCKING CUNT?" I managed to stop crying enough to say, "Yes, but you don't have to call me those names like that. Please, I'll do whatever you want, please, anything at all. I just can't lose Clark."

"You got that right, cunt, but I'll call you any fucking thing I want. When I see a fucking whore, I call her a whore; when I see a fucking cunt like you, I call her a fucking cunt. Hell, the way you suck cock and the way you fucked the team all night everyone knows you're nothing but a cunt. You know you're a fucking cunt and I know you're a fucking cunt, so why try to deny it? And we both know that you're a great fucking cocksucker. You remember those names, don't you, bitch? You kept telling all the football players to call you those names at the victory party. Oh, by the way, bitch, if you ever would like to see and hear yourself in action, I can make a copy of that night. I have eight full hours of you on tape. Eight incredible hours of fucking and sucking. Oh, and I have this one especially lovely picture of you on your hands and knees, with your asshole wide open and cum pouring out, with your cunt open just as big and a big stream of cum coming out while you are bobbing up and down on the team's black coach. If you want, I can burn a copy of it on a CD just for you. I think everyone who was at the party has a video of you fucking the team all night; I'm surprised that you don't have one. Oh, yeah, now I remember: You blew me off and you never came around again. Since we thought you were a football groupie whore that just wanted to fuck the team all night I never made an effort to find you."

I said quickly, "I don't want to watch anything from that night. You're sick. I don't remember anything, it can't be me, honest, it can't be. I don't know how or why I did it, I am not like that, I am a loving wife, I really am. Please, don't do this, I am a mother, someone must have drugged me that night or I got drunk or something, it isn't me, I am a good wife and mother, I would never have done that ever."

"Don't give me that crap, you fucking cunt, I got the fucking proof. You fuck with me and I'll not only prove it to you, but I'll prove it to your loving husband, Clark. I got your fucking voice begging for the boys to keep fucking you. I got you talking filthier than I am. You told us all to call you a cunt and whore. You were the one pulling the boys onto the bed to fuck you. Don't try to pull this shit with me. I'll show you all right; you did it and your fucking tattoos prove it was you.

"You sure as hell can't claim any of the pictures are faked or doctored or the video of you is not real. Hell, with the way you talked and begged to be fucked; with your voice and face, anyone watching you would know it was real. So don't try and fucking tell me you don't remember that shit, because it won't fucking fly. And so what, I don't care if you remember it or not. You got that, bitch? Who fucking cares if you remember? I got your face as clear as a bell. I got you kissing and sucking every one of the boy's dicks on the team before and after they all fucked you. You were a fucking pig the way you grunted as they fucked your mouth and ass. You just better make sure that you don't fucking piss me off, or I'll end up giving copies of everything to your fucking husband anyway!"

I felt beaten. I knew I had no choice. I know I am not like that, that I would never had done anything like that unless someone had drugged me somehow. I don't remember even going to one football game while I was at UCLA. I decided maybe it best to just somehow make Carl happy and make him my friend, maybe doing that I could get all that stuff from him and maybe Clark would never find out. I felt that maybe if I changed my attitude I could get in his favor and make this all end.

"OK, you win, I'll do anything you want, but what I could use right now is a good strong man. Why don't you just come over and fuck me. All this is too much. Just come over and lets fuck the day away. I'll make sure you love every minute of it. I won't say anything to anyone, not to Clark or your wife. Please, I'll make it all better, can't you just come over and fuck me? You know you want to. Come on, I need it bad, I need you right now."

I was trying to do anything to end this, I thought if I could make him believe that I wanted him to fuck me, maybe if he did once or twice maybe he would leave me alone or at worse we would meet once a month or so. I could not risk Clark finding out about what I did before I married him and then what I did just today.

"Oh, don't worry, honey, I'll be over to fuck you later, but first you have another show to put on at 11. This time you will use something different to fuck that cunt of yours. I want to see you use a cucumber, ear of corn or maybe get a banana. I don't want to see any more skinny fucking bottles in that cunt of yours again. I know you, bitch, I know just how much you love big, long, fat cocks, and I got the pictures and videotape to prove it, so don't fuck around. Don't worry about your husband; he's so fucking righteous that he would never sign on a sex site, let alone watch a whore like you fuck herself on one. Your secret is safe for now, and if any of your husband's friends do see you there, fingering and fucking yourself, do you really think they would tattletale on you? Come on, think about it. If anyone you do know see you, getting off by yourself, they will be calling you and they will do just what I am doing. You will just have to fuck them to keep their mouths closed. Now get your mind on what the fuck I want."

I asked as I was getting my sniffling under control, "Should I just start at 11, or do you want me to wait until you contact me? I mean, how will I know that you are watching?"

"Don't you fucking worry about that, cunt, you just make sure you are sitting down at your desk and get something big and fat to fuck that cunt of yours. You got that, bitch? You just sit there, finger your hot nasty pussy, and then fuck it. You don't have to worry if I am watching or not; millions of men and woman will be watching you. Now, are you going to do it or do I send Clark this fat envelope of you fucking and sucking off a whole college football team over and over?"

I said meekly, "I'll do it. Please don't send Clark anything, please. I love him and I don't want to hurt him. I'll do anything you want."

"Are you going to make me believe that you are into what you are doing? You know if you are not believable, I'm going to send the package to him. I have to know for a fact that you are loving it. By that I mean, I have to know that you love finger-fucking your nasty, cock-hungry cunt. I have to believe that you love fucking yourself and making yourself come nice and hard. When I watch you, I want it to be so fucking hot that I'll shoot a bucket of cum. Now, are you going to do that or not?"

I said, "Yes, I'll do that, I won't fake it, I will enjoy what I'm doing, I'll do anything you want, but please, Clark must never know any of this, please."

"Trust me, baby, your husband will never find out from me just as long as you keep me happy. You keep me happy and your life is going to be a very good life. Not to mention all the sex that you love so much. By the way, cunt, your camera is still on and I can see your fingers still between your legs. I like that."

Click, the phone went dead. I turned off my camera and shut down my computer. I got up and went to take a shower. I felt so dirty, so filthy. I stood there running the hot water over my body trying to scald it clean. I cried and cried under the water. I finally got out and looked at the clock. I kept dreading the hands as they moved. It was 10 minutes before 11 and I was in a panic. I did not have anything like Carl wanted me to use. I went into the kitchen and looked around, I looked under the sink, in the fridge, I looked at the clock and it was now 5 minutes before 11. I really began to panic. I ran back to the bedroom but I could not find anything, I went into the bathroom and I saw something -- my can of shaving cream that I had for shaving my legs. It was long, it was rather fat and with the cap on it, it looked like it would not hurt if I used it, that is, if I could get it inside me.

I looked at the clock and it was one minute till, I ran to the desk, turned on the hard drive, and when the desktop came on I clicked online and turned on my camera. The instant I was online, message after message kept popping on my screen. I had no idea how Carl did it but it was obvious that others were watching besides him. I closed my eyes and began to masturbate. I say masturbate because I am sure it looked that way. I did touch myself and I did work my nipples, I sure as hell did not enjoy it as I was pretending to. Somewhere in all this I was glad that Carl had not asked me to do something worse. I mean, he could have fucked me while the whole world watched and I couldn't do anything to stop him. I knew that he held my life in his hands.

I felt I had worked myself enough, I picked up the can and stuck it in my mouth. It was big, all right, but all it did was remind me of the few men that I had met in school who did have big dicks and, yes, Carl was right, at that time of my life I did love them. Clark is average in size, and prior to our getting married I had a few boyfriends and he was larger than some while smaller than others. My big mistake (that I now realized) was, I should never have lied to him about my sex life prior to meeting him. Even if I had been truthful about them, I sure had no recollection of what I did that night the pictures and videotape were made. Yes, there were a few times over the years that I would sometimes fantasize about a man with a big dick fucking me when Clark was inside of me and he was just not doing the job to get me off, but that was not that often. I had been content to just leave it that way, you know, just conjuring up those images when I needed a little more to get me over the edge. Now as I sat there sucking that can, I felt a chill as I remembered one date with this man who had a cock as big as the can I was sucking, getting wet. I also remembered just how hard that I had climaxed with him that night. He was one of those men that made me wet looking into his eyes. Most of my dates at the time were good guys; I would not go to bed with anyone until after the 2nd or 3rd date.

There was this one date that I remembered more than most. He picked me up at my dorm, we walked to the pizza parlor and halfway through the pizza he was touching me, and I was so fucking hot, we left the pizza parlor and went straight to his room. After hours of sex, I left at 2 a.m.; I just could not get enough of him.

My pussy was getting wet as all that ran through my mind. I lifted my right leg and opened myself up as I brought the can down to my pussy. I placed the cap against my hole and very slowly pulled it into myself. I expected some resistance and discomfort, what I felt was pleasure as it slid into me. I had it halfway in before I began to move it in and out. I remembered how Carl wanted to watch me do it slowly, so I fought myself to run it in and out nice and slow. I have no idea how long it was but I could not keep doing it slow, I began to fuck myself a little faster, then a little faster, and faster until I was fucking myself hard and fast. It wasn't long before I had the whole fucking can deep inside of me and then a few times it came out of my hole when I pulled it back too hard and fast. Then I crammed it back inside to keep fucking.

After the second time it came out, I realized just what a great feeling it was when it came all the way out and then I would pull it all the way back inside myself. This kept making the feeling better and better with every thrust and pull out. I lost myself to the feeling and I sat on the edge of my chair with my legs straight out locked straight and I was ramming that can in and out while my whole body shook and shook with a climax after climax. I finished and I leaned back as I rested I let go of the can, My pussy held onto it for awhile before it relaxed and it slid out. The phone rang, which brought me back to my senses. I picked it up knowing it was Carl.

He said, "Not bad. Now I want you to do the same thing at 12 noon, only this time before you start, unlock the front door. I will be coming over and you are going to suck me off while you fuck yourself. I'm going to bring some things for you to use since you don't seem to have anything there. Turn off your camera and stay online." CLICK.

I turned off the camera and sat there and cried. I could not believe that I had completely lost myself to this sick man's lust. I got up and took another long hot shower. At 10 minutes till noon I went to the front door, unlocked it and looked outside. I almost expected to see Carl but he wasn't there. I went back to the bedroom and took off my housecoat that I had been wearing. I turned on the camera and began touching myself

I looked at the clock and I had misjudged; it was only 5 minutes until noon; I decided to just get it over with. I reached over and adjusted the camera so it showed more from between my legs and less of my face.

Chapter 2 ยป