Chapter 1

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Romantic, Coercion, Heterosexual, Cheating, Slut Wife, Cuckold, Spanking, Rough, Humiliation, Group Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Spitting, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Size, Violent, Transformation, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A married woman gets transformed when she indulges in extra-marital sex, at the impulse of her husband...

"And... What if I start, and I love it, and I don't want to stop, hmm?" Karin says, more than a tad on the teasing side.

"Well, honey, all the better," I reply, playing along in the same tone. The worst is, I really mean that. All the way.

"I can't believe that," she says, trying to sound matter-of-factly.

"You don't say. Of course you believe me. That's what's holding you, come to think of it. You know I'm gonna love it every step of the way." I smirk at her, gently mocking her false pretenses at reluctance.

Gradually, over the few last weeks, she has begun to offer less resistance to the idea. Of course, she isn't about to admit it in so many words just now, but definitely, something has given within her, and I feel it. I know her by heart. That's how much I love her.

Over the last two weeks, every time we've made love, we've used it to raise the excitement level up several notches, both her and mine. She even took the initiative several times to use it as a fantasy while we had sex. She is more than warming up to it, no question.

I'm sure her worry is genuine, though. What if she takes more than a liking to it and includes it indefinitely as part of her sex life? I'd love it, as I said, and I do mean it. And I'm sure she would too.

But Karin has a few remaining obsolete and rusted principles that I'm trying my damnedest to obliterate. Remnants of a misspent youth, I guess. She was a virgin until age 22. On the surface, she is all about believing in the strong, hermetically closed couple, traditional and united in everything. Underneath, I know she's started to boil a while ago, and is deeply troubled —in the good sense- by the idea of servicing another man's needs and caprices to their full extent. Moreover, as heartless as it may sound, I'd really like her to delve into this world of extra-marital depravity while we both have some beautiful years ahead of us. She's 32, has never looked so desirable and attractive, and has a great sexual energy. On that subject, Karin has an intriguing, but exciting —as far as I'm concerned- special feature regarding sex. She cries almost every time she makes love, particularly when she climaxes, she can't help it, nor would I wish that she can. I love it, it melts me every time.

So, she does love sex quite a lot, despite her late start. Only she's pretty exclusive about it so far. And that's my curse.

Try to understand me here. Karin's what one could call the archetypal voluptuous, feminine beauty, as far her body's concerned at least. She's rather tall, she stands at 5'8, has long, straight and wonderfully silky dark blonde hair. She's insanely curvy without being overweight or worse, just... cushiony. Comfortable would be the proper term. She reminds most people of Anita Ekberg, only prettier —at least I think so- and with much more massive breasts. Her 40 DD, grapefruit-like, makes many a male and female head turn; she ceased being bothered by all the looks long ago. I've had a number of women before I met her, but I never came across breasts so big and firm at the same time before, even though of course their heaviness make them hang close to the south side when she's not wearing a bra or a very tight top.

Wide, wide hips and a lower back that looks like a ski jump track, leading to her firm, very round ass, prolong that perfection, while a nicely proportionate, reasonably thin waist and flat belly (we don't have kids yet) complete the picture. Now, she isn't model material by any stretch and is not a classic beauty as far as her features are concerned either. Thankfully. But she's very pretty, in a girlish, fresh kind of way, and has that rare sparkle to her. She is harmonious, criminally sexy, gets hit by guys all around all the time, and is very comfortable in her skin. She's very natural about it all, not self-conscious.

Almost every time we go to a party or club or something, I leave her alone for a while on purpose and wander around, trying to overhear guys' comments about her when they talk among themselves. "Hey, you know that big-titted blonde over there?" "Wow, look at Miss Boobs. I'm sure she hasn't seen her feet in years." "Oh, man, that's one hot broad. I'd sure love to play hubby for two hours. You think she swallows, too?" Like that.

If I have to be honest, though, eavesdropping on guys is not my sole purpose when I leave her alone in a crowd of strangers like that. Always, I nourish the hope that she will remark someone and make a very nice, full of promises male acquaintance. To no avail so far.

I can't praise her various merits enough, but the more it goes and the less I can get past her only flaw in my eyes. She's sexually monogamous, and that has to change, no question. For me, it has become close to intolerable.

She fixes me with her light green eyes, smirks.

"I know you would. Pervert."

"The fact is you would too."

"Maybe. Maybe not..."

"Life's too short for 'maybe', baby."

She rolls her eyes mockingly. She comes toward me and does what she knows makes me shut up best.

Over the next few days, our fantasy talks revolve almost exclusively around The Idea. Like a flower, I see her open more and more and absorb this new light shone onto her desires, driving her to some of the most intense orgasms I have known her to have when we make love. Whether she likes to admit it or not, things are gearing up, and my psychological invasion and destruction of some of her certainties are taking a hold for sure. The following weekend, I feel, without fooling myself, that considerable progress has been made. Still, a lifetime of education had to be undone, and that takes patience and time.

She tries to keep it all theoretical, but the shine in her eyes tells me her desires are real enough.

"So, what if I met someone? I wonder what your first words may be when I tell you that."


"For real. Come on, it would be fun to know."

"Really? Well I guess we'll just have to try it then," I say with my best perv smile.

She sighs in feigned exasperation. What's new is that she doesn't say anything. In typical behavior, normally she would negate the idea, even half-heartedly, just for the sake of it.

But she doesn't. In fact, she pauses for just a beat, her eyes distant, before going back to her business around the house, her movements rather slow and distracted. Her wheels are cogging.

Little by little, I have closed all the exits allowing her to escape the fact that it just has to happen. It's inevitable. I want it too much for it not to take place. I've put lots of efforts into it, cajoling, teasing, and persuading of every kind. Trying to make her see the light is no small feat. But she's getting less and less blind by the day. A deep stirring within me tells me the excitement The Idea generates within her cannot go anywhere but up, now. And she's beginning to be aware that to keep it up —and she wants to keep it up-, the next level has to be reached. The next level; the last, unavoidable level. Her belonging to another man, her being shared in every and all ways. I sense her abandon to The Idea growing, making her almost as ebullient as me to take the dive.

Karin is a perfect woman —at least I think she is. But that's just it, that's where we —she, rather- have a problem. She's a very, very sentimental and terribly soft hearted girl. She knows herself, and is aware that if she shares her intimacy with another man in any serious way, her heart will beat faster, whether she wants it or not. It's a very touching trait of hers, but one she doesn't, cannot, and won't control. If she'll let her body speak, then she'll let her heart fly. As for me, it needn't be a problem, but I know she fears that she'll have a behavior beyond the raw, pure sexual. Which for me is, of course, all the more exciting. Now, we are soul mates, for better or worse. One cannot live without the other, we know that by now. But, still, it scares her that she could be subject to bouts and fits of intense passion outside our couple. She knows that if she gives herself to another man, she'll be infatuated with him rather rapidly. She's afraid it will separate us.

I know better.

I cheated a little. In all my approach for her to do this, I repeatedly told her not to worry, that it would and could only be a sex fest, nothing else. Of course, I knew all the while that it won't be that straightforward or simple, but I can't tell her that. I can't tell her that it's a bonus as far as I'm concerned if she finds herself in the throes of passion with another man, at that point in time, this would hurt her profoundly. But she functions that way so far. Up till now, she only finds sexual solace when she feels strongly for her man, there's no way around it. For now.

That's part of why it had been so difficult to bring her to that point, part of why she never had flings or one night stands in her youth. She's always been a very nice lady in all ways. That's the point. Karin's a real lady, an adorable woman. She's never been a slut, even briefly, or even anywhere close to frivolous, ever. Before meeting me, she'd only had two other long, meaningful relationships. We've been married for five years now.

What's going to happen doesn't scare me. Maybe I'm being naïve, but neither of us thinks anything can take us apart. I'd swear my life on it. That's why I do want her to take the plunge into delicious abandon.

She knows what I think about her physique, how much I praise it and appreciate it. She knows I consider her, physically, a Goddess. Soon enough, the germ of a challenge sprouts in my mind. Maybe she's reluctant about the final step because it's so easy. Too easy. Who knows, at that point.

"Okay," I say to her one night after sex, "you waited too long, princess. Now I have a condition if you ever want to please another man."

"See? You're backtracking! I knew it..." Her voice trails off. Is that disappointment I hear in it, or am I imagining it?

"I'm not. But the only way I'll know if you really want it is if you have to work a bit for it."


"Well, look at it this way. You're one hell of a sex bomb, and you know it. The kind of woman guys think about with both hands, right?"

"Geez. If you say so."

"I do. So, I'll accept nothing less than the same qualities in a guy if he is to touch you. The caricature of the virile, healthy male and all."

"Oh God. Spare me."

"Nah. Especially since I know you do respond to it. You're a girl, after all."

"Fuck you. Sexist bastard. Right, so what's the caricature of the male sex machine? I bet you can't really tell anyway."

"You're so right I can't," I lie. "But you can, and I'm all ears."

It's a bit of a surprise when she pauses and does think about it, a vague smile on her lips.

"Hmm, right. Brown hair, not bald or receding hairline. At least six foot tall, heavily muscled, nothing below 180 pounds. No facial hair, but his torso is all but covered in hair, you just can't see the skin. Abnormally well hung. Hard to please but demanding, domineering, macho. Comes twice as much as Peter North. How did I fare?"

I laugh at all that. I love her wits.

But of course, she fared well. That's quite the kind of guy I picture in my head, fucking her senseless, when we make love.

"Well, you got it, honey. That's the one for sure. Why don't you put an ad out with that description?"

She frowns.

"I thought it excited you, why are you making fun of it?"

"I'm not. I'm dead serious. Put an ad like that on an adult website, see what it gives."

"Not a very natural way to meet someone."

Here we go again...

"Crap. BS. What's natural is when people are actually together. Whatever means they used to get together, who the hell cares?"



She sighs.

"Why not. But just for the fun of it. See if there actually are guys like that. See how many of them think they are Apollo. Could be fun."

"Yeah, I'm sure it can," I add. I try to reason myself not to get my hopes up, but the perspective of this puts me on fire.

"Look at that one!" Karin says, pointing at the computer screen, laughing.

It shows a grainy picture of a guy on a dingy bed. The guy's naked; his skin looks like he's been bleached with aspirin or something. It actually reminds me of a chicken's skin if one had stripped it of its feathers. Normally it would be hilarious, but I don't feel like dealing with timewasters here.

I have to watch my impatience and not let it get the better of me though. Karin takes it much more naturally, she feigns considering all this as if it's only a game. I admit to myself, nonetheless, that she's more relaxed about the process than me, and that she's probably right.

She deletes the message, clicks on to the next in her Adultfriendfinder mailbox. I opened the account, wrote the ad under her dictation; it's practically, word for word, what she said the night we talked about it in bed. The ad presents her as a craving-for-sex single woman looking for a real hunk to fuck her brains out, no questions asked, no strings attached, and that's spelled out in the ad in so many words too. I took pictures of her in some of her best garments, suggestive poses and all. She looks absolutely wonderful in these photos, almost as good as in the flesh. Irresistible.

The next message comes from a 47 years old guy, with only a picture of his body, whereas we specified the candidate to my wife's attentions must reveal himself in full. Bad start.


The man oozes class.

Karin grunts. She clicks on the reply button, and writes "Hi there. Say, did you know men actually come in three sizes? As in 'lol', 'hmm, not bad' and 'oh my god'. Guess where you fit? Get wasted, creep."

She can be stingy if scratched the wrong way. Thankfully I never had to endure her verbal assassination.

I put the ad up five days ago, and her mailbox quickly filled up with literally hundred of messages. She automatically discarded messages without pictures, which amounted for more than two thirds of the bulk.

She reads some more messages, shaking her head in disbelief and/or shame for their originators.

The clicks of the mouse take a monotonous, repetitive rhythm as she sorts through the pile of "wanna fuck!" supplications. I need coffee. I go to the kitchen, asks her if she wants one, hear her yell "no thanks" from the living room. I put the capsule in the machine, let the bitter liquid pour into the cup below, the Espresso purring. As it stops and I go and fetch a sugar cube, the silence strikes me.

No more clicks.

Don't hold your breath, I tell myself. I bring the cup back to the living room.

Karin stares at the screen. Taking most of its estate is the picture of a naked man. We don't speak. The man is her ad. All the way and then some. No cheating either, we see all of him. Face to toe.

"It has to be doctored, don't you think?" Karin mutters.

"I don't know..."

It looks pretty genuine to me. Or am I kidding myself?

Karin reads his message out loud. "Dear Karin, my name's Mark, I found your ad and quite liked it —obviously- so let me respond in kind. I hope you like what you see, let me know. FYI, I'm 38, 6'4, 220 pounds, I'm a football coach, unattached and single. Yours, Mark."

Flawless so far. Clever bastard.

In his picture, "Mark" —is that even his real name? - has his hands on his hips, stares right at the camera, and he has one hell of a hard on. I wonder if that's what Karin meant about the photo being doctored, or rather the insane amount of hair on his chest. He is large and thick, everywhere. Definitely "oh my God" grade.

I put my hand on her shoulder softly, bend toward her. "Answer him, honey", I whisper in her ear, giving her a soft peck on her neck just below. It's only now that I see she's stroking herself while looking at the picture.

I feel her tremble slightly as she hits the reply button.

She's one tiny step from meeting him. They have corresponded for two days now, and exchanged about a dozen emails —Karin gave him her personal Hotmail- before switching to Messenger. They spoke mostly of their respective sexual tastes —what else-, inquiring about each other's fantasies, things like that. I suspect Karin let him talk about this much more than she actually offered from her side.

Nonetheless, he was surprised (and a bit dismayed) when Karin admitted that she'd never taken a facial cumshot; she has always flatly and firmly refused it from all the men's she's been with so far, myself included. Coming in her mouth is no problem, but she's always thought taking cum on her face was not something she would ever enjoy. Or something like that. She clammed up pretty fast on that subject the few times it came up at my initiative.

While Karin is rather sexually docile by nature, my own nature doesn't lead me to be domineering or pushy in bed, at all, so I left it at that, even though I did want to do it. As in everything else with her, she has delicate features and a very feminine face, with gorgeous lips. It would have been quite exciting to cum on such a lovely face. But, she was pretty adamant so far that it remained immaculate, my frustrations be damned.

Mark told her that was a real pity, and that it had to change, even though she told him that on the other hand, she really loved to swallow. "We'll see" was her only, vague reply when he insisted some more.

Now, make no mistake, I love my wife. I adore Karin. Still, one of my motivations for putting my nasty plans in motion is, I won't complain one bit if Karin, let's just say, dips her feet in different sexual practices than we have together. As I said, I know her by heart, and I know that she loves to be compliant in bed, she aims to please —to a certain extent-, and the more she's directed the better for her. As much as it's not in my temper to dominate and rough her up even a little, it would make me hard until I were in my 90's or something if she did get dominated the hard way by other men. By dominated, I don't mean any BSDM circus; just a good, rough hard fuck would do perfectly nicely.

That's what I pray would happen if she ever got to sleep with anyone else. But that part, I keep to myself too. One step at a time...

Nonetheless, she doesn't want to Mark to have the impression that she is a sexually repressed woman, who she really is not; in fact she could sometimes be pretty raunchy, her own way. Except for this facial business, which always lead to her flat and harsh refusal in no uncertain terms.

That leads her nonetheless to ask him about the last so-called request of her ad, the twice-as-Peter-North part. Mark's reply is "let's just hope you're really, really thirsty, Karin." But she isn't satisfied and remains wary. "Ten to one he's full of shit about that," she says to me.

Then she writes "Do you have a cam?"


"Then I'll tell you what. I want to see you jerk off and cum. If I like what I see, I will meet you."

I can't believe my eyes.

"Are you serious?" I ask her.

"Of course not, are you crazy? I just want him to admit to his BS."

I don't have any reply to offer, and wait for him to respond.

Mark writes "Interesting... Are you ready for it now?"

"You bet I am", Karin replies.

A new link appears on her screen, she clicks on it. A small square window opens and here is the object of her not-so-secret desires in full view. Naked, as in his picture, tool in hand. The picture, we now see, hasn't been doctored in any way whatsoever.

"He could not have faked it, right?" She asks rhetorically.

She had masturbated along with him —but he couldn't see that, while I could- and when he finally came, Karin went "oh my God... oh my... fucking... GOD!" and came herself. Now, we didn't know nor cared if he came twice as you know who, but he came more than enough to make Karin climax right here and now just watching it. She ended their conversation with just one line, "I'll be back in a while."

"No, I guess he couldn't have," I reply, stating the obvious.

"Oh my God..." Karin says for the umpteenth time since she has seen her online pursuer come for her at her request.

She looks at me, a melting pot of emotions dancing in her eyes, saying both "let me go" and "hold me" at the same time. I just smile back at her; a gentle, comforting smile. My heart is beating fast. We clearly are at a turning point, she especially. I just nod once, waving at the keyboard. She is short of breath when she turns around.

"I'm back," she writes.

"I'm here. So?"

"So wow. Wow wow wow. What a lovely mess."

"Hehe. Thx I guess. Ever had this much?"

"Of course not."


"Really. Never by a very, very long shot (pun intended)."

"Want it?"


"Tell me."


"What you want. Say it."

She hesitates for just a fraction of a second.

"I want all that cum in my mouth... I do."

"Then come get it."


"Because I also want you like you have no idea."

She pauses. Turns toward me. Eases out of the chair, puts her hand on my cheek and kisses my lips softly.

"I love you. You know that, ok?"

I nod again, twice, smiling from one ear to the next.

She sits back down.

"Give me your cell," Karin writes.

"I just want to have a drink with him. That's it. And that's what I told him anyway."

"Oh, come on..." I reply, my eyes rolling.

"Look, you always said you wouldn't force me into anything, right? Never?"

"And I'm not and I won't. But you two like each other, eh? So..."

"So nothing. It's fun to meet him, I'd like to see what he's like, and that's all."


"Right." She winks.

"Plus, you'll get to watch us, so don't ask too much."

"I'm not. It's just... You know."

"Quit it, it's almost time."

They had convened to have a drink together, in a well frequented bar after dinner, around 10 pm. Or so I was told, since Karin went into the bedroom and closed the door when she called him. They didn't speak that long anyway, about ten minutes.

The trick was, I would be able to observe everything that would take place, incognito, being just a few tables away. I just couldn't wait. The best part was she had insisted I go with her. As much as the whole prospect excited her, she was still intimidated, and a bit wary.

We take the car, drive over there, park near the bar.

Karin goes in first, in case he is already there. He's not; we are ten minutes early on purpose, to take in our surroundings and mark my strategic position.

She sits at a small table toward the back of the place; I follow her inside, sit down three tables away from hers. I will see them both, in profile, and be able to hear most of what they'll say, I believe. Nice vantage point.

The waiter comes toward Karin and goes away after she says she is waiting for a date (my wife's about to date, wow), and I ask for coffee myself when he comes and takes my order.

He arrives five minutes late, spots her immediately. He comes up to her table with a friendly, open smile, apologizes for his being late, and finalizes his hello with a kiss on each of her cheeks, lingering there just a bit longer than a normal acquaintance would do.

He sure looks the part, classy in a sportsman way, not overdoing it. Karin has dressed tastefully, as always, but with a bit more provocative edge than she's used to. Her cleavage in particular is very much in your face, making her breasts seem even more enormous than they naturally are. I can tell the guy has trouble looking at her in the eyes at all times, which he admits to, as I overhear their conversation.

"I didn't realize my eyes had dropped that low," Karin jokes good-humoredly.

"Ah, they did not, but there's so much to see, you know?"

"Yeah I know... You like it?"

"You look stunning."

"I know that too."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes... I like the attention."

"Only the attention?"

"Depends on what kind of attention..."

"I'd love to find out what kind of attention you like."



"How do you intend to find out?"

He pauses only briefly, lowers his voice a bit.

"By fucking your brains out? Your stated request, rings a bell?" he says, smiling at her. Square jaw and all.

Karin blushes slightly at that, but keeps smiling, lowering her eyes.

"Oh, you would do that? A nice girl like me?"

"You have no idea."

She looks back up at him.

"Mr Preposterous."

"Don't tease me too much..."

"Or else?" she says, teasing some more.

"Or else you'll loose the use of your vocal chords pretty quickly."

"No chance of that, I'm not a screamer."

Which was true. Sometimes she moans very loudly, but she never does actually scream.

"Tsk, I'm sure you are. We'll see about that."

"We will? Hmm. Can't wait," she replies, her eyes sparkling.

Gosh. That was unexpected. She is excited. Or, maybe she's just toying with him, see how far she can go before his being weary and call it a day?

She caresses his right hand, which he put flat on the table. Karin invariably has her fingernails natural, long, and painted a very vivid red, prolonging full, long fingers. No fakes for her. She plays with her fingernails on the back of his hand, reaches up to his forearm, a mischievous smile on her lips.

When his face reaches slowly forward, she doesn't move, her expression staying the same. His face is mere inches from hers, the silent understanding between them being that it's her last chance to stop teasing and provoking him before he makes his move on her. She doesn't stop. She takes his hand in hers, lacing her fingers with his. Mark knows his cue, reaches forward again, kisses her lips slowly. Karin responds, in that I'm-so-soft way of hers. Their interlaced fingers tense, particularly hers. The timid, soft peck progresses to a passionate, long lasting deep French-kiss.

At last they stop, look in each other's eyes, laughing softly. He reaches forward again, this time going for her ear.

"Let's go," he whispers. Karin nods once, flustered and short of breath.

Mark puts a bill on the table, stands up and takes her by the hand. As they walk toward the exit and he puts his arm around her waist, Karin glances back at me with a brief smile, her eyes saying "I can't help it, I want it too badly."

I wink at her; I'm all but paralyzed, my heart beating at twice its normal rate.


The voice is distant, hazy.

"Honey, I'm here. I'm back."

Karin. Gone. Sleep. What time is it? Everything rushes back in my mind at once.

After they left the bar together, I sat there stunned for a while, a whole mix of emotions coursing through me. Shock, happiness, and a bit of a drain of energy, all the tension leaving at once, or so it felt. Fake disbelief, too. I had to convince myself that Karin was really about to let a man she barely met fuck her out of her wits, in any way he saw fit, even if I already knew she would.

I went back home, driving slow, my hands were trembling slightly from the excitement and the tiny tinge of worry I felt despite myself. Not about her leaving, but about her personal safety. One never knows, even if the guy seemed safe.

I stayed up until 4.30 am, fighting priapism as best I could, trillions of images coursing in my mind, and at that time I just went to sleep, emotionally and nervously exhausted, collapsing on the bed.

I open my eyes slowly in a flutter, still half asleep, blinking several times. Karin's face is above mine, looking down at me, beautiful, smiling tenderly.

"Honey," I croak. I clear my throat, repeat the word.

I wrap my arms around her and draw her close to me, hugging her tight, feeling her warmth, inhaling her smell.

"Huh, what time is it?" I ask groggily.

"Dunno. Wait..." She frees up her left arm, looks at her watch.

"1.15," she says, looking down at me.

"Huh, pm?" My brain's still stalling a bit.

She laughs lightly.

"Of course pm, silly, what do you think?"

I don't know what I think. My wife has been in the company of another man for the last fourteen hours.

She reaches and switches on the bedside table's lamp.

"God, I'm so tired," she sighs.

I look at her with both my eyes open now, my hand raised in a shield against the sudden light. She indeed looks like she needs some sleep.

"I only slept four hours... I even slept in the cab on my way back," she replies to my unvoiced question.

I hug her close again, kissing her neck.

"Hmm, why?" I ask softly. I so want her to say it, as a part of my brain stupidly refuses the obvious.

She pauses just a brief beat. She puts her mouth very close to my ear.

"I made love all night..." she says in a barely audible whisper.

"You're joking," I barely articulate. Even now my mind still resists the concept of this perfect, responsible wife having being used for hours by some creature closer to ape than Man.

"No, I'm not, I swear," she whispers again. "We really did make love almost all night. We made love four times."

"With Mark?" What a stupid question, but my synapses were beside themselves with the information. Karin doesn't take notice.

"Yes... He never wanted to let me sleep, had no choice." She giggles at that. A bit nervously, I think.

"You mean... He had his way with you as he wanted? Like he told you he would?" He did tell her that, during their email exchange.

"Yes... Exactly as he wanted. I gave him everything he wanted. No exceptions..."

A kind of vague alarm goes up in my mind.

"Huh, what do you mean?"

She gets back up a little, looks sideways, that slightly uneasy smile on her lips.

"Honey... Tell me." I'm not being subtle here, but the urge to know everything is overwhelming.

She'd tied her hair in a very tight ponytail, and for the first time since she woke me up, I remark it. She almost never does that. She silently unties it, freeing her hair, shakes her head twice so that it falls back naturally, and takes my hand, bringing it toward her hair. She is disheveled, but that's to be expected after a whole night of hard lovemaking.

She flattens my hand against the left side of her head. At first, I don't get it. All I sense is a pack of hair, knotty and very dry, as if it was glued together. Then I register.

I look at her much more closely, see the dried layer, giving the illusion of crackled skin on her forehead, just below the hairline. I move my hand across her hair, meeting more glued up tangles on the top of her head.

"Oh baby..." is all I can muster.

She blushes wildly.

"Yeah... I don't know why I let him. But I did. I didn't resist at all."

"He didn't ask you?" I say in disbelief.

"No, not at all, that's not his style too much. It came naturally anyway... So to speak," she says in a light laugh.

"For him, yeah, but for you?"

"For me too I think... At the moment I wanted him to do anything he wanted. You can't imagine how badly."

I need a bit of time to absorb the news. She gave a man she barely knew the last thing she'd never, ever wanted to give to any other man before.

"And... Er... Did he keep his promise?"

"What promise?"

"You know... The twice as much stuff."

She laughs again, a distant look in her eyes at the memory of a couple of hours ago.

"Oh yeah. Fuck yeah. The cam thing, it wasn't a fluke. It was below average for Mark, I'd say."

She already talks about him on first-name terms. Not "the guy." Not "him." "Mark." Pretty rapid progress. My heart is beating twice his normal speed again.

"How can you tell?" is my next silly question.

"I made him come four times, I guess I should know," she says lightly.

"What about the other times? Don't tell me you took four on the face in a row..."

"Nah. First time in my mouth. But I couldn't swallow everything, way too much of it. He told me it would come with practice..." She laughs once more, a bit more at ease now.

I caress her, starting with her waist, making my way up to her enormous jugs.

"And then?" I blurt out, already rock hard.

"Second time, he came all over my back after doing me doggy. That's where the cum in my hair at the top comes from. The first two spurts. Whoosh... Whoosh..." She mimics in two long straight gestures the imaginary trajectories of the jets that splattered her.

"Third time in my mouth again, but this time I swallowed everything, there was less of it. "

"And the fourth time on your face..."


"Wow. But... I mean..." I let it trail, my interrogation obvious.

"Yeah. I loved it. Even that. I loved all of it. I was even wishing the cum would never stop flying... But he was pretty drained out by that time, so..."

I can't but ask the question I want to ask most.

"Do you want to see him again?"

She looks at me, right in the eyes, smiling.

"You bet... I can't wait to do that again."

"Oh my God," I reply, the widest —and kinkiest- smile I've ever had on my face, all the while undressing her slowly, cupping her breasts, kissing them, tasting them.

"But I want you to see him have me. And without him knowing," she says, helping me undress her.

Karin's plan is difficult to put in motion, and we search for ways that would make it possible to happen. Over the next two weeks, Karin spends three full nights with Mark. Every time she comes back very late the following morning, exhausted but happy. She does want to please him badly, and she told him he could cum wherever he wanted as much as he wanted after their first experience.

Obviously, I didn't discourage any of that. From then on he comes on her face and hair every single time, and Karin now admits to that she enjoys it without any complex —even though she still totally refuses it to take place in her own couple and home.

Every time she comes back, we make love, as she recounts her adventure of the previous night in all its nasty details. I'm hooked, totally addicted. I want it to go on, I want more.

By then, I've found out how to implement our plan.

One morning I receive what I have ordered from eBay a few days before. It cost a kidney, but it's what I need. Two small, wireless webcams, latest optical technology and all. It will do nicely. Karin does her part, and convinces her boyfriend that one of her fantasies is to roleplay. She will play a prostitute and behave like a real one all the way; they'll fuck in a hotel room, just as it happens all the time in such a real-life situation.

He's very excited by her prospect. Especially since Karin has another exciting tease in store for them. She requests that he doesn't satisfy himself until that next night, five days from their last encounter. She asks him not to make himself come, even though he can masturbate if he wants to, but she requests his full reserves of juice be held exclusively for her until then. He promises her to do it, though not enjoying that part too much judging from Karin's report.

What he doesn't know, however, is that I put a reservation for D-Day in advance in a small, modest hotel on the other side of town, for two adjacent rooms. Karin told him it was part of her total roleplay fantasy, asking the clerk about her key like any other whore, and bringing her sex-starved client to her room.

On the eve of our big event, I ask Karin one more time if she is really sure about this. She is adamant, and really wants me to watch her satisfy her new boyfriend —which is how she now refers to him.

I ask her why she wants that so much.

In a soft voice, her reply is "because it's beautiful..."

"What do you mean?"

"Mark and I making love together... It's beautiful."

"Hmm, why? In what way?"

She hesitates before replying.

"Go on," I urge her gently.

"Because it's so intense. Sure, it's rather raw, and he handles me... vigorously at best, most of the time, but he drives me nuts. Really crazy. You'll see..."

The following night seemed to be full of promises.

Saturday night fever. My wife and her companion are supposed to show up around 11 that night. Ample time for me to rig their room with my two little gadgets. Thankfully, the rooms, though cheap, are not totally bare of furniture, making great hiding places for my electronic eyes. The best part is, I'll be able to record most of it with the laptop I'll have up in the next room, sound and all, though Karin doesn't suspect that. I'm not too sure she would like it. The fact that she isn't on friendly terms with computers, even she moderately uses them, is for once a blessing.

I arrive at the hotel, go straight to the room Karin is going to take Mark in for their new night together.

Right in front of the bed is a low, flat chest of drawers, basic and rather ugly. On the top, some hotel flyers, two glasses, a tired ashtray, some other stuff here and there. I decide to put the tiny camera between the glasses, against the wall, pressing them together save for a tiny aperture between them so that the cam can see unencumbered. It fits nicely, and anyway my wife's friend will be thinking about quite other things than spying electronics when he comes in the room. There's a large cupboard against the room's left wall from the door. It makes for another excellent vantage point. I put the second camera on a plank inside the cupboard, right in the middle of its width, leaving the door slightly ajar, monitoring its angle on the laptop I've put on the bed. I now have two perspectives to choose from when I'll watch the fireworks in an hour or so.

I exit the room, lock the door, goes down to give the keys back to the attending clerk.

I climb back up, enter my own room, lock the door with the do-not-disturb sign on the handle outside, boot up the laptop and tap into the cameras' live feed. Everything's ready.

At 11.20, I hear some noises in the corridor outside the room, low voices talking urgently, giggling, the clinging of keys.


My screen's horizontally split in two halves, the lower part facing the bed, the upper part seeing it from the side. These little gadgets are sharp, even in low lighting conditions; the picture is —almost- crystal clear, with only the slightest bit of grain. I put the headphones on, relax in my chair, and see my wife and her man enter the room.

They don't waste any time whatsoever. Horizontal position de rigueur, right now.

Karin puts her hands behind her man's neck, clinging to him while giving and receiving passionate, wet and deep kisses. She's already moaning softly.

She wears an impossibly tight, beyond revealing black dress she found specially for tonight. She wears absolutely nothing underneath —that's also a first time for Karin.

He removes her dress in short, direct movements, and positions her so that she lies flat on her back, her legs wide open. Her pussy's dark hair is trimmed in a straight line, the lips unencumbered, flowery. Karin has very, very large, apparent pouty lips, and is as voluptuous in her intimate anatomy as in everything else in her statuesque plastique.

Mark bends down to her inner thighs, kisses each of them in turn, and buries his face in my wife's wetness, sucking softly on her lips, making them disappear integrally in his mouth. Karin gives a loud groan, shaking her head softly, her dark golden hair spreading all over the pillow. She puts her hands in Mark's hair, almost tearing at them, while his tongue now invades her inside, while his lips kiss hers, while he teases her swollen clit with the tip of his tongue before going back again to the fountain's source in succession. Karin's legs are practically 180 degree open by now, she urges him in further, pressing on his head, gasping, panting. I know that look. He's going to make her cum, and hard at that. He senses it too, as he slows down just a notch, playing with her.

Karin speaks the first words I've heard from any of them since they entered the room. She raises her head, her lovely face distorted by greed for more pleasure.

"Oh God don't stop. Honey, don't stop please... I'm so close..."

Mark looks up at her, smiles, takes her right hand in his left, fingers laced, and plunges back down. He slowly slides two fingers inside her as his tongue draws circles around her clit, as I can see from the movement of his head. Karin's short of breath, she's going to climax soon. Her companion's finger-fucks her faster now, and he looks like he's eating her alive.

Karin arches her back, lets out a strangled unfinished word transforming into a loud, long-lasting high pitched moan, and her hand tense all of a sudden in her man's hair, the other one convulsing around her man's fingers, her fingernails biting in his hand's skin, leaving marks. She spasms several times, the stunned look she always has when she has come on her face, sighing heavily, her chest rising and falling with the effort, her melons bobbling in rhythm to her breathing, her man's lower face bathing in her juices.

After she has steamed down a bit, she puts a hand over her eyes, starts to laugh. Mark goes up to her, their faces are level with each other. He playfully takes her hand from her face and smiles knowingly at her; she laughs even more, and he silences her with a long, deep kiss as she takes him in her arms.

She undresses him, fast, tasting him everywhere in the process. She wants the whole of him now, it shows, her movements becoming urgent.

Seen for the first time in reasonable clarity, he is a beast of a man, indeed. All bulging muscles and thick hair, I can't see the skin on his torso at all in this light, only a dark hairy mass. Karin presses a hand against it, forcing him on to his back. I've always known she fantasized greatly about hairy men, but I didn't realize to what extent until now. Karin kisses and licks him from neck to lower belly for long time, rubbing her cheeks and lips on her companion's chest. He has grown impatient too; as she takes his cock in her hand and approaches her mouth toward it, he puts an arm around her waist, and gently forces her on top of him.

She stands there, caressing his cheek with her hand, all her tenderness in action. She rubs his cock between her pussy's lips to moist it, stroking it gently in the forward-backward motion of her waist. Soon the fat cock is glistening wet, I can see the light reflecting on it at its base.

Karin bends over her man, kisses him some more, whispers in his ear things the cameras can't pick up, then rises and takes an erect posture, sitting on him.

Looking him in the eyes, she slowly raises her waist up from him, puts a hand behind her back while the other stays on his chest for balance. Her hand briefly rummages around, finds and takes his balls it, moves up and closes her fingers around his cock, bringing it at the proper angle, and in an agonizingly slow motion, sits back on him, swallowing him inside her entirely until her ass crushes his balls. She closes her eyes in a loud moan, letting her insides acclimate to the invasion of the huge mass of pulsating flesh.

She puts her hand back on his torso, softly moving her waist in slow circles. Mark raises his head, takes what he can of her heavy breasts in his hands, pressing, caressing, kissing and licking in a succession of teases until he buries his face between them, putting his arms around her and drawing her closer. Karin bends down toward him, alternates between kissing his forehead lovingly and whispering in his ear, all the while being slowly but methodically pumped by her companion's cock, getting bigger by the minute.

Karin gives him a last peck on the nose, and frees herself from his embrace.

She pushes against his chest with both hands, rising back up again. She stands there, impaled, immobile, for a few seconds, until Mark wants the dance to resume. He gives a very nasty, powerful thrust inside, making her almost —almost- scream, and takes charge, thrusting full force and disappearing completely inside her with each assault, his balls crushing against Karin's buttocks, making a flapping sound.

My wife really rides her companion now, Mark's hands firmly on her waist, possessing her. She isn't going anywhere but up and down. She lifts his hands from her waist to take them in hers.

Karin looks like a beautiful Amazon, with her head proudly raised, her eyes closed, the poise of her neck and back fully erect, completely straight and terribly tense from so much pleasure, impaled on her man in all her magnificence and feminine beauty, her fingers locked in a tight lace with her lover's. Then she bends down over him a little, puts her hands flat against her male's chest again, pushing softly with both hands against it to regulate the rhythm of their love, her fingernails biting slightly into his chest's skin, then she presses down on him hard to take him more completely, more deeply inside the warmth of her belly, her normally delicate and relaxed face frowning and grimacing deeply from the effort and almost painfully intense pleasure of engulfing him whole inside her, feeling like he is almost piercing through her. A perfect tableau of Woman in all her sumptuous glory, straddling her man in forceful passion.

She accelerates her belly-dancing on the cock of her man. She takes her hands off his chest, takes both of his, puts them on her breasts, and rises once more. Her jugs are slowly bouncing up and down to the rhythm of Mark's assaults below. He cups them, plays with his thumbs on the hard, erect nipples, his hands then going everywhere over her breasts, pressing them together, rubbing them against each other while Karin raises her arms, runs her fingers through her hair, her back straight again as she goes on riding him forcefully, her mouth slightly open, her eyes closed, groaning loudly, sighing, every muscle in her body tense from the avalanche of sensations.

After a good bit more of this, she gets off of him, gives him a passionate and deep kiss while caressing him softly.

She takes his hands, pulls him forward until he is on his knees on the bed. She crouches on all fours, her head level with his glistening, engorged cock. She puts her hands behind his buttocks, rubs her face against the cock agonizingly slowly, left to right and back again, up and down, giving the cock a kiss when her mouth meets it on the way, her face beginning to glisten as her skin gets wet with a mixture of pre-cum and her own liquor from the shaft. Mark has his hands on her shoulders, his head jerked back with closed eyes.

Karin sits down on her calves, her back straight once again. She puts her left forearm below her jugs and with the right hand, takes the pulsating cock and slides it between them. She puts on hand on the side of each breast and presses them together hard, while she begins to move up and down in a slow, deliberate motion. The cock, as huge as it may be, totally vanishes between the mass of soft chair, its head appearing only briefly near her throat in Karin's downward movements. Bowing her head down, she gives it a soft peck every time it pops up, wetting her lips further as the cock leaks more pre-cum. She moves her face forward, kissing Mark's abdomen as he tit-fucks her. Her nose is grotesquely bent downward, crushed against him as he puts his hands on her head, while his balls are pressed against her belly, rubbing against it as she continues her up and down motion. Her nipples get harder and harder with the irritation from their contact with the coarse hair covering her man's body.

She frees him at last, rises toward him. She kisses his neck, tasting it, darting her tongue here and there, a kinky smile on her lips followed by a giggle. One of her hand slides down, taking Mark's cock in her hand, fully encircling it, or trying to since she can't close her hand around it completely, so big he is.

She decides to play a bit more, making tiny pecks all over his chest, her lips hidden by his chest hair when she does; sometimes she darts her tongue again and makes it roll through a twirl of black hair, smiling, giggling in a slutty way. Nasty girl.

Slowly she gets down, and now her kisses are softer and teasing her companion's upper belly, and Mark's breathing speed increases noticeably.

As she kisses him, Mark pushes with both hands on her head, the tip of his rock-hard cock creasing her cheek, pressing heavily against the soft skin as he tries to push her head further down, her skin and the hair hanging on the side of her cheek glistening, glued together with the pre-cum leaking yet again from the severely engorged cock. As she raises her head again, the cock's head makes a moist, sucking sound as it gets off her cheek's sticky skin. She takes the fat member in her right hand, brings the head just below her lips, almost touching them, and blows softly on it several times, all the while stroking the shaft in the gentlest way, but in a firm grip nonetheless. She gives light kisses to the head, but she never takes it in her mouth. At last, she gives it a big sonorous peck, pre-cum inundating her lips again and making what little is left of her lipstick sparkle, and I see her tongue run over them, licking the pre-cum.

She switches position so that she's facing him, her face between his thighs. Karin puts her left arm around his right thigh in a clench, closes her eyes, and with what seems like great abandon starts French-kissing his balls passionately, moaning from the pleasure it gives her, from the soft, cushiony feel of his balls against her lips, wetting them with her tongue, never ceasing her stroking for even a second. He grunts loudly and almost lets it go at the contact of her lips on his balls, but somehow she knows he won't just yet, she's beginning to know her boyfriend's reactions well by now, I guess. Her stroking slows down a bit, though. My wife is a careful woman, and I now know that she loves and enjoys her rewards. She licks and kisses and licks again, from the base of his shaft to the extremely sensitive spot just underneath the balls, which are now full, massive, heavy, pressed tightly against her nose and forehead. She kisses them exactly as she kissed his mouth just moments before.

Her companion begins to loose it now, though, sweating profusely, shaking his head with his eyes closed, muttering unintelligibly. My beautiful Karin is wise, she remembers the promise she made him do, and she feels the end is near. That her boyfriend cannot take any more of this, and that she shall put him out of his delicious misery. She raises her head, pauses to look at him proudly in the eyes, the poise of her swan neck pure grace, and smiles tenderly at him. He cannot talk, he just gasps, staring at her with an air of supplication.

"Yes my darling..." Karin just whispers.

"Ho... honey... please..." he manages to croak.

"Yes my love... yes... Oh God, look at you..."

She levels back up again, puts her head flat on her left cheek against his chest, just above his belly button, facing his cock; she delicately takes the balls in her left hand, keeping the enormous shaft in her right. She scratches the balls very softly, barely brushing against them with the tip of her fingernails, and lets her stroking accelerate progressively. Her companion barely breathes by now, rather he gulps his air in, grunting and panting.

He raises his head, all the muscles in his neck tense, looks down at the back of her head with a mixture of disbelief and wonder, a glaze in his eyes. Somehow Karin feels this, lets out a long sigh and moans softly, and without any warning whatsoever gives an abrupt, spectacular acceleration to her right hand, mercilessly jerking the cock off really hard, her hand but a blur of movement on my screen. That's it, then. Karin is about to satisfy her man all the way while I watch her do it. I enjoy the spectacle with my hands full myself.

Mark jerks his head backward, and literally screams, starting to make thrusting movements with his hips. It sounds like it's her name he's yelling so loud. He tenses even more, now totally drenched in sweat, his whole body wet with it. He reaches out with his right hand and grabs Karin's hair in a rough reflex, starts to jerk her head around, his pulling on her hair rapidly becoming erratic and very aggressive. Karin doesn't seem surprised by the sudden increase in roughness in her companion's behavior; my guess is she's had it before during the few times they've seen each other. At any rate, she remains completely concentrated on the cock she's tending to.

He lets out another animalistic grunt as his other hand shoots down, joining the other in grabbing and pulling her hair harshly. He jerks her head very violently, this way and that, and fast, Karin's hair almost giving, her scalp apparent between the lashes.

"Oh shit... oh FUCK... don't you fucking stop you fucking bitch don't stop jerk me off jerk me off fucking whore. Oh shit! You fucking slut!! OH FUCK!!"

Karin's stroking slows down as abruptly as it started, taking a much slower, but very regular, metronome-like rhythm. The cock spasms once, its jitter so hard it almost escapes from her hand, a single, large drop of cum appearing at the tip and spreading over it. I barely have time to see my wife register a knowing and satisfied smile before the cock spasms again and the first spurt hits her full face. It's a ridiculously huge missile of a sperm shot, at least twice as long as the cock itself. The force of the blast makes her recoil a bit in a reflex, the enormous jet crashing on her right cheek, close to the corner of her lips while the cock doesn't stop and spits out lots of tiny droplets of jizz on her in between the longer spurts, on both her shoulders, her throat and her breasts. The next shot follows close behind, as least as big as the first, hitting her on the forehead, starting just above the nose, and parting her hair right in the middle to the back of her head, droplets from the force of the ricochet on her face flying above her head and falling on her back and neck.

"Oh you fucking bitch... Ohhhhh you fucking bitch..."

At that point Karin consciously closes her eyes as she realizes she's in it for the long haul once more, her boyfriend being unable and unwilling to stop the deluge that's demolishing her face. Tears are forming at the corner of her eyes from the mix of pleasure and the nasty hair pulling, but still she never stops stroking the cock while it takes its revenge on her from so much torture and frustration moments before, literally spitting sperm on her face with force, unrelenting, merciless, spurt after spurt, whipping her soft skin here and there with massive loads of white lava, the shots getting bigger and stronger in pressure one after the other.

"Ohhhhhhh you fucking good at nothing... You gutter whore fucking jerk it some more milk me bitch... Come on... Oh fuck you disgusting slut... Fucking cumbucket... You filthy whore... Oh fuck..." Mark babbles inanely as he watches his angry cock hosing his woman's face, primal contempt in his eyes, the rat brain taking over.

The abject insults make Karin start to cry this time; to the best of my knowledge she's never endured such extreme abuse before. She doesn't hold it back anymore; she lets herself go and cries openly now, tears cascading down, mingling with the white mess, her lips nonetheless curving in a smile each time a jet of sperm hits her face.

Her head is nastily jerked some more by the man's odious, incredibly rough pulling of her hair, at times raising her head brutally, at other times pulling it down again, rubbing her face hard on his sweating torso in the process, reddening her left cheek.

"That's it stupid bitch, milk it, you fucking cumbucket," he repeats in a mumble. His right hand leaves her hair and slaps her very hard on her ass, sounding like a loud gunshot in my headphones.

My wife obeys, strokes the insane cock harder still, as her man gets crazy with pleasure and goes on hurling still more crude abuse at her, clinging to her hair like a madman with his left hand, his right one resuming the slapping.

I see two or three more impossibly long spurts hit Karin directly full-face, the ricochets of their impacts on my wife's face again sending jizz spittle flying this way and that, and Mark grunts hard with each of them, the seemingly unending eruption painting both her face and most of her hair a pearly, shiny white, drenching her lips, chin, her cheeks, her closed eyes, everything; droplets pearling from her eyelids and lustrous straight hair above her forehead, long, straight white lines on both sides of her head, rivulets of cum running down her throat, finding their way to her cleavage, disappearing between her enormous breasts, the stuff in her hair sliding down it to her arms and back. I see a big white gob running its course from her hair to the crease that runs down the middle of her back, all the way down to the ski jump track, where it collects in a puddle, until she finally shifts and moves, letting it spread further down to her ass.

When the love fountain finally dries up after she milks the cock of its last dribbles, Karin's features relax at last, with a smile of amazement, pride, and contentment. Sperm is everywhere on her upper body, mixing with the tears on her face, or what's left visible of her face after such a cum carnage. She spread the cum on her skin with the head of the cock, still rock hard, and she whispers things to the huge, satisfied member that I don't hear, while her darling groans and sighs, finally releasing his powerful grip on her hair. But even spreading the cum everywhere as best she can, there are still thick, visible globs of creamy white all over her upper body, the most striking contrast being that incredible mess in her hair, usually so silky and straight. She then licks slowly, very slowly, the cum that missed her face and lost itself on her man's chest as it jumped above or beside her face, until there's not a single remaining drop of white in all this hairy blackness.

She gets back up the bed, levels with her darling's face, looks at him in the eyes, caresses his cheek with heartfelt tenderness, and speaks to him softly. He stares back, his face still set, tries to get some of the cum off her face with his fingers, then massages her breasts with it, excited by the mess he's made of her. He puts his arms around her shoulders. They look at each other a very long time, without talking. Smiles, kisses, caresses and eyes are enough. He draws her closer, kisses her, again and again, with my wife responding in kind.

They stop to whisper once in a while. She hugs him strongly, cradles his head, kisses his forehead, relaxing him now that she has satisfied him in every way.

She takes his face in her hand. She is proud to have given so much, and I know that beyond the initial surprise, the insane drenching has been intensely flattering for her and a great reward for all the pleasure she gave to her man. She whispers something to him; her back is to me now, I can't see her face. I strain to listen, but she speaks in a very low tone. I don't hear what she's telling him. It's their private instant, after all, and I guess Karin keeps her voice low to protect their intimacy and privacy. Her soothing voice has its effect, though. I can tell from the look on her friend's face, slowly relaxing and getting back to normal, the savage distortions of it from moments before but a memory.

She shifts her position so that he can put his arm around her waist, her head just below his chin, on his right pectoral. She places her right hand flat on his belly, lovingly kisses his torso several times, her lips getting wet from Mark's sweat and whatever cum still remains there despite her best efforts earlier.

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