My wife Pam and I are in our early forties and have been married for a little over sixteen years. We met during our senior year of college and as far as I know Pam has never cheated on me and I have never stepped out on her.

For the most part life has been good. We raised two kids who are out on their own. We’ve built a nice stable life together and outside of a few normal marital hiccups over the years we’ve been completely satisfied with our life, that is until recently.

For whatever reason all of a sudden, well now wait a minute that’s not quite true. Actually this has been slowly gaining space in my head over the past couple of years, ever since I started reading those hot wife stories on StoriesOnline. Then I found some cuckold chat rooms and well ... Fuck! My world is being run by my cock instead of my head, or at least it feels that way.

I started chatting with a few guys, some were like me and wanted to have their wives fucked and others who were more dominate wanted to fuck my wife. I posted some pictures on a couple of these sites of Pam in a slinky dress that was taken when we had gone out to dinner. Of course I put a black space over her eyes so no one could recognize her.

About a month ago I contacted this guy Bart in a chat room, or maybe he hit me up. Hell I don’t remember, but the bottom line is that we kind of hit it off. He seemed to know exactly what I was going through and it wasn’t long before he had me asking him if he would be interested in fucking my wife for me.

At first he wanted pictures so I sent him a couple of her dressed up for an evening out similar to the ones I had posted in my profile and though he found her ‘very pretty’ (his words) he wanted something without so much clothing. I searched through our photos and found a couple of bikini shots that I had sneaked when she had been distracted. In my opinion Pam is still in great shape for a woman just past forty years old, but she doesn’t see herself that way. All women see when they lose their youth, are the new wrinkles and things that never were perfect to begin with.

My wife is in fantastic shape because in addition to working out she plays competitive tennis at the club five days out of the week. A trimmer, slimmer body on a forty two year old would be hard to find.

Bart sent me pictures of himself. He was in his mid-thirties. He had a great body well-toned and very muscular. Clearly he spent a great deal of time at the gym. Then he sent me a photo of his cock. It looked much longer and fatter than my six inch penis. He claimed he was almost eight inches long and the photo’s seemed to bear that out. He wasn’t huge like many of the men in the stories on Storiesonline profess, but he would definitely fill my little wife completely.

Anyway Bart wanted some nudes of Pam and I had to tell him I didn’t have any. He was very demanding and said if I couldn’t even get her to pose nude how was I going to get her to fuck him? He said that when I had some nude shots I could contact him back, if not I wasn’t to bother.

Over the next couple of days I managed to sneak several pictures of her after her shower in the evening when she was getting dressed for bed.

When I showed them to Bart he was disappointed that they weren’t posed, but he relented and we continued our communications on the promise that I would get him some posed full nude photos.

Then he began asking all sorts of very personal questions like what kind of sexual things she liked and didn’t like, what turned her on and it by the end of the first couple of days I realized I didn’t know the answers to his questions, especially about her fantasies.

Pam and I had just sort of figured out a routine of sorts that seemed to meet most of our sexual needs and we haven’t moved out of that rutt in ... well forever. So at his insistence I began asking her the things he had been asking me.

So one night after making love I managed to stay awake she had her head on my shoulder and I asked her.

“I was reading an article on line the other day and it said that more than fifty percent of married couples over the age of forty have never discussed the subject of sexual fantasies.”

Without looking up she responded. “I’m surprised that the percentage is that low. I would have thought it would have been closer to seventy five percent hadn’t discussed them.”

I was almost at a loss as how to respond as I had made the whole magazine article thing up in the first place and the percentage was just a number I pulled out of my ass, but I thought I recovered well by asking her. “So what are some of your sexual fantasies?”

“You tell me yours.”

I was ready for this response. “Oh no, I asked you first.”

“I can’t, it’s embarrassing, besides I might hurt your feelings.”

“Hurt my feelings? How could you hurt my feelings, unless you have already acted out your fantasies with someone else?”

“Oh, God no. You’re the only man I have been with my whole life.”

“Well you already admitted that you have some fantasies, what are they?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Please. Come on Pam. if a couple like us can’t share that type of thing with each other what does that say about how close we really are. I love you and I want to know everything I can about the woman I love; besides the article said, that couples that were able to share their innermost desires and fantasies with each other had a more fulling and rewarding relationship and their sex life improved as well.”

“Well, I have wondered about ... other men.”

“What about them?”

“Oh God, since you’re the only man I’ve ever been with I wonder ... you know.”

“No I don’t. Tell me.”

“What they would be like in bed. Would they do it differently? Would they be rougher? Would they treat me ... different?”

“Different how?”

“Would they treat me like a slut?”

“Do you want to be treated like a slut?”

“No! ... Well kind of ... sometimes. Oh hell, I don’t know. Sometimes in my fantasies I daydream about a man ... or sometimes men just taking me.”

“You mean rape.”

“Well not exactly rape, but ... not exactly with my permission either. I mean I don’t want to be hurt badly in my fantasies, but I can see them slapping me and ripping my clothes off when I don’t instantly obey them. They manhandle me and shove their cocks into me one after another.”

“How many men are there in your fantasy?”

“No specific number they are just lined up waiting to use me.”

“One at a time?”

“Usually, but not always. Sometimes they ... Oh God I can’t tell you.”

“What ... you can’t stop now.”

“Sometimes they do it to me in my butt and my vagina at the same time and they make me suck them till they fill my mouth and make me swallow it. Over and over they use me and I have orgasms during the whole thing. I just keep cuming and cuming until I’m exhausted.”

“Sometimes they make me go naked or almost naked in public and they violate me with their fingers and other objects with others watching.”

“And this turns you on?”

“Oh God yes ... in my fantasies. I would never want it to happen for real. God I would be so humiliated.”

“Do you know these men?”

“No, not when there’s a bunch of them, they’re just random men, strangers.”

“What about an individual. Do you have one person who you fantasize about?”

“Humm?”

“I said, do you have a man that you fantasize about.”

“Oh ah no, of course not.” She said and she quickly took the focus from her. “What about you? What are your fantasies?”

I knew she was lying about not having one man that she fantasized about, but she had opened up much more than I thought she would so I decided to let it drop.

“My fantasies? Well I can tell you that there no way as exciting as yours. I have thought about a threesome.”

“With another woman?” she asked.

“Actually no. I think about me and another man pleasuring you till you can’t stand it anymore, but the way you tell it I think you would wear us out before you even get started.”

“That’s fantasy dear. It doesn’t work like that in real life.”

“How do you know? It might. Would you like me to throw you around the bedroom and spank your ass?” I asked her.

“No. I don’t think it would turn me on if YOU did it.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not sure. I just think it wouldn’t be the same for some reason. I mean I like the way you make love to me and if you got rough with me it would just not work. I can’t really explain it. Besides it’s just a fantasy it’s never going to happen anyway. Good night dear.” And she rolled over and turned out her light.

The next time I was on line in the chat room with Bart I told him about Pam’s fantasies, but I left out the large groups of men and the rape part, and just told him a much milder version of a forceful man taking her.

He seemed to like that scenario and told me what he would do with her and how he would treat her like a slut.

I was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the way our conversations went after that and I started to avoid connecting with him. Whenever I would see that he had logged on I would change to another site or shut down my computer altogether. Since then I have left the chat rooms and haven’t returned.

That was about a month ago and I haven’t communicated with Bart since.

It was Friday night and Pam almost always works later on Friday than I do and her commute is longer than mine as well so it us usually up to me to prepare dinner and that’s what I was doing when I heard a knock at the door. It was still daylight out and I didn’t bother to check the peephole before opening the door. I figured it was a sales person or one of my neighbors.

As soon as the door opened a crack it was shoved open and I was flung back. I was lucky to keep from falling down. It was Bart.

“B Ba Bart w what are you doing here?” I stuttered. Something I have always done when I am nervous or surprised.

“As if you don’t know you fucking peckerwood. You asked me to fuck your wife and I told you I would and if there’s one thing I pride myself on is that I keep my word.” He slammed the door shut and stepped right up to me. He looked bigger than I remembered him saying. He was well over six foot and had one of those barrel chests like Bluto on a Popeye cartoon.

“I I ch cha changed m my m mind.”

“Well dick weed. Lucky for your wife I didn’t change mine. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me through the house until he found the master bedroom.

“Strip you fucking toad.”

“W wa what?”

“You fucking heard me asshole.” And he punched me in the gut. The air in my lungs practically ran from my body I was so frightened. I fell to my knees trying to recover my breath.

My mouth opened and closed like a fish on the bank after being caught, but no air would pass my lips into my lungs. Bart stepped into my closet and disappeared from my sight. If I could have, I would have run, but I could only think to breathe again. My vision was closing in around me and all was black except a small window if light before me. Then some air somehow snuck into my lungs and a little more, then all of a sudden I gasped a huge gulp of air and my eyes cleared.

I coughed several times, then Bart was behind me. He tied my wrists with something and pulled me to my feet by my hair again.

He took both hands and grabbed my shirt at the neck, buttons went flying as he ripped the front of my shirt into two pieces.

He unbuttoned my pants and shoved them and my under shorts down. My pants crumpled at my ankles like an accordion. He shoved me in the hest and I fell back on the bed, then he jerked off my shoes and grabbed the cuff of my pants and snatched them off my scrawny white legs and threw them across the room.

“Sit there.” He commanded as he pointed to my wife’s vanity chair. I sat and that’s when I saw he had a fist full of my neck ties. He tied two together and wrapped them around my chest and tied me to the chair. He tied my legs to the legs of the chair.

“How did you find where I lived?” I asked. I was much calmer now.

“It wasn’t easy, but then again it wasn’t that hard. You know the photo of your wife that you posted on your profile.

“Yes.”

“Well I recognized the restaurant where it was taken. Then I made a print of one of the pictures of your wife and showed it to the bartender. He recognized your wife right away. By the way you owe me twenty bucks, because that’s what I had to pay him to call me when you two showed up again.”

“He called last week when you two went to dinner there, I rushed to the restaurant and followed you home that night. I live about ten miles from here. I checked out your routine and discovered you get home before your wife on Fridays. So here I am, ready to keep my promise.”

He bent down and picked up my under shorts and stuffed them in my mouth then he tied it in place with another of my ties.

Then he turned and left the room. A few minutes later he returned and said. “I turned off the stove. I didn’t want a fire to interrupt our fun this evening.”

He pulled out his phone. “She will be here soon I may as well get comfortable for her.”

He began undressing and neatly folding each piece of clothing and laying it on top of our dresser. When he was naked he walked over to me and wiggled his dick in my face.

“If I wasn’t concerned that you would yell and warn your wife when she gets home I would have you suck my cock hard so I can fuck her, but I’m not taking that chance. I can wait for her to get me hard. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Just then I heard the rattle of the garage door opening. A few moments later it rattled back down. A door opened and Pam’s voice called. “I’m home.

“Here.” James hollered back to her and he stepped behind the bedroom door.

That one word wasn’t unique enough for her to discern that it wasn’t me, besides who else would be calling from our bedroom.

When she stepped through the door it took her several steps for her mind to assemble the unusual situation and when she did she stopped and screeched. “Bill! What happened?”

Bart pushed the door closed and locked it. When she heard the door close she turned and screamed. He rushed her and clamped one hand on her mouth and the other on the back of her head. She was so stunned she just froze in place, her eyes bulging at the sight of his face.

“Don’t make another sound and don’t move.”

As soon as he said move she started to squirm and his hands tightened on her throat and mouth. It must have hurt because she stopped moving and he relaxed slightly.

“I’m sure your husband didn’t prepare you for what is about to happen, but he contacted me online to have sex with you. It’s true. You can ask him when I’m confident you understand the situation and have calmed down. He sent me pictures of you and we have been communicating for almost two months now. He asked me to fuck you and I told him I would.”

He continued. “If you understand what I’m saying and you are calm enough to promise me that you won’t scream again then I will let you go and we can talk like normal human beings. Nod your head if you understand and agree to remain calm.

She nodded. His hands slowly released her. They stood like two statues. He had his hands raised prepared to clamp them back on her throat. She stayed stock still only her eyes moving, darting around the room.

Slowly his hands dropped down to his side. Her head moved so that she could see me tied to the chair then she looked back at him. He was tense and ready to leap back upon her. She was tense, but remained still. His shoulders relaxed and he took a step back.

She dashed for the door. If he hadn’t locked it she may have cleared it, but it was very unlikely that she would have gotten very far down the hallway anyway. As it was she never even got the door open when he was upon her, her head clamped into his vice like grip. He drug her over to where I sat and wrapped one arm around her head with his hand still over her mouth. Then with his free hand he punched me in the stomach.

If I could have doubled over I would have. She tried to scream under his hand, but only a muffled sound emerged.

“Every time you do something stupid he pays for it, so if you want me to hit him again just try me. Understand?”