The Devil's Pact Tales: Playing at Cuckoldry

by mypenname3000

Copyright© 2013 by mypenname3000

Fantasy Sex Story: Tales from the Best Buy Incidents follows characters from the orgy in Chapter 3. How there lives were changed by what they think of as a Terrorist attack and a strange gas that made them loose their inhibitions. Playing at Cuckoldry follows Bill and Erin Connar. Bill cannot get the image of his wife fucking other men out of his head.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Wife Watching   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   .

Tales from the Best Buy Orgy: Playing at Cuckoldry

Note: This takes place a week after Chapter 3 involving Bill and Erin Connar and how their lives were changed after the Best Buy Incident...

The car pulled into the my driveway. It was Saturday night, and I was hiding in my bedroom closet, naked, waiting for my wife to get home with whatever guy she picked up at the bar. My cock was hard in anticipation of watching my loving wife fuck a strange man, while I played the cuckold.

Our lives changed the day my wife and I walked into that Best Buy. It had been a Thursday morning, June 6th, 2013, a little over a week ago. We had been browsing the store, shopping for a new washer and dryer set, when Mark Glassner, for reason's the authorities still cannot tell us, flooded the Best Buy with some gas that made everyone, well, have sex. An orgy happened. The media dubbed it the Best Buy Incident. I watched my beautiful wife, Erin, get fucked by three different guys, including the man responsible for the entire event, Mark Glassner.

And every time it happened, I got extremely turned on as I watched my wife writhe and cum on another man's cock. And then I would enjoy sloppy seconds within my wife's pussy. It was a weird mix of jealousy and lust as I watched my wife being so wanton with another man, watching someone else's cock shoot his sperm into my wife's womb. And then I would be on her, fucking her as hard as I could, proving that my cock was better than the one she just had.

"That's the dick I love," Erin had moaned when I shoved my cock into her freshly fucked pussy. "Uhmm, fuck me Bill! Show me how a real man fucks a woman!"

Even after we left the Best Buy, and were freed from the weird, inhibition-numbing effect of the gas, I could remember those words and how much they boosted my ego. My wife enjoyed my cock more than any of the other men that tried to take my place. It was my cock that Erin was hot for, not those some other guys. She even fucked a black guy and their supposedly giant cocks.

Once you go black, you never go back, the saying went. Well, my wife did go black, and she happily came back for my cock. How could you not get addicted to that.

I just couldn't get the image out of my mind of my wife gasping and moaning beneath another man, her cunt frothy with another man's spunk, and how wet and slippery she was when I thrust my cock inside her, how she moaned and cooed in my ear, telling me how much better my cock was. Those images filled my mind as the paramedics check us out, as we rode to the hospital in the back of an ambulance.

I had to see my wife with another man, I realized. When we were getting pocked and prodded by doctors and nurses at Good Sam hospital while they tried to figure out what Mark Glassner did to all of us, I kept imagining my wife doing all these filthy things. I pictured the young doctor with his square jaw and boyish good looks, bending my wife over the exam table and lifting up her hospital gown and just plowing into her, the wanton look my wife would get as she slammed her hips back into him, begging him to cum in her married cunt.

When the cop came to take our statement, I fantasized about him strip searching my wife, doing a cavity search on my wife's pussy. And she would get so wet as his finger probed her pussy, she would be panting like a bitch in heat, desperate for a cock to fill her. Then the cop would say he needed to use a different tool to search her cunt. His cock would come out and he would begin to fuck my wife.

"Search my naughty, married cunt," my wife moaned in my fantasy. "Oh yes, your tool is searching my pussy so thoroughly. If you keep searching, I'll definitely give you what your looking for!"

When we got home, I was so horny. I asked if my wife if she wanted a foot massage and she gave me a shy smile. My foot massages always ended up with us in the bedroom. My wife went to slip into something more comfortable, and came down in a short, mauve silk robe that clung to her body like a second skin. A smile was on her beautiful face, her hazel eyes twinkling with anticipation. Her dyed blonde hair fell loosely about her shoulders and her round melons swayed beneath the loosely tied robe, her nipples hard points on against the silk.

As I massaged her feet, she would shift her legs and I would catch glimpses of her shaved pussy, shadowed between her thighs. My wife could be such a tease. "That was pretty wild, today," I said, a carefully, light tone.

Erin's face flushed red. "Um, it was okay, I guess. I mean, nothing that happened was really us, right?" There was a hopeful tone to her voice. She was worried that I resented her for fucking those other men.

"No, it didn't count," I told her, kissing the sole of her foot, briefly. "But it was ... exciting."

Erin looked at me, curious, maybe a little hopeful, even. "Which part?"

Her legs shifted, a brief glimpse of her shaved pussy. Was that moisture I saw beading her vulva? What had gotten my wife excited? My foot massage? Or was she remembering the men she had fucked today. "Watching you," I told her, staring into her hazel eyes.

The two words hung in the air between us. Erin licked her lips. We both felt it, our relationship was about to change, and it was all up to Erin. I kept rubbing her feet as she thought, my thumbs kneading the soles of her feet. "Is that what you really want?" she finally asked.

"I can't stop thinking about it," I told her.

She took a deep breath. "Nor can I," she said, half a whisper. "I ... I love you, but it was exciting, knowing you were watching. I could feel your jealousy, your lust for me!" A smile creased her lips. "It made me feel so desired! By you, by the man in me! I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world."

She unbelted her robe, her round breasts appearing as the robe fell away. Her nipples were hard, pink. "Thank you for the massage, Bill," she said, huskily, standing up. I watched her heart-shaped ass sway as she walked upstairs. "Coming dear?"

That night we pretended I was different people. The doctor from the hospital, the cop giving her a cavity search, and Mark Glassner himself. I couldn't believe I had another three cums inside my balls, and I don't even know how many times Erin came. It was nearly three in the morning when we stopped, both of us holding each other tightly in are mused sheets.

"How do we do this?" Erin asked.

I was too tired to answer and fell asleep holding my beautiful wife. Good thing we had one day left on our vacation, because neither of us were fit for work the next morning. We napped the day away, and that night, we went to the Lucky Cowgirl Bar. We entered separately, Erin in a pair of tight jeans, and a low cut, blouse and a push-up bra to make her tits really look round and full. I found a table and nursed a beer as I watched Erin flirting with several guys.

The guys were drawn to her beauty, her sexuality. She looked really into it, laughing and touching the men. Jealousy and lust warred inside me. She looked so natural, so happy. Throwing back her head as she laughed, thrusting her breasts forward so the guys could look down her top. She should be laughing like that for me. Every so often, she would glance at me, seeing me watching and she would get more bold. Soon, her hands were rubbing one of the guys legs, then his crotch. And the man was getting bold, too. He was touching my wife's knees, her thighs, then he was between her legs, rubbing her cunt through the crotch of her jeans.

The jealousy was a burning a hole in my stomach and my cock was an iron rod in my pants, aching to be released. Only I should be touching Erin there. She was my wife. We swore vows to be always faithful and she was happily breaking those vows with some guy she just met at a bar. The hussy. My beautiful, loving hussy.

The man leaned over, whispering something in her ear and she gave a wicked laugh. The man stood up and led her to the men's room. I finished my beer, my cock was hard in my pants. A sick feeling roiled in my guts. My wife was getting fucked in the bathroom of this dive bar. I waited a minute, and then followed them in. The last stall was occupied and I could hear a soft moan, the wet sound of a cock sliding into a moist cunt. I got into the stall next to them.

For a minute there was only breathing. And then, the rustle of clothing, panting breathes, the sloppy sound of a cunt getting reaming by a hard cock. My wife's wet cunt getting reamed by someone else's hard cock. The guy was fucking her harder, I could hear flesh slapping against flesh. A low, throaty moan from my wife, she was enjoying it, the slut. Sweat broke out across my skin, my stomach sunk and churned with jealousy, and my cock was hard. I unzipped my pants and spit on my palms.

"So tight!" the guy fucking my wife muttered and my wife gave a delightful squeal.

I started stroking my cock, trying to picture what was going on in there. Was she bent over the toilet, getting fucked from behind, her jeans bunched up around her ankles. Was she sitting on the toilet, her legs spread wide and the guy plunging into her married cunt, hammering away at my darling wife's pussy. Or maybe he was the one sitting on the toilet, and my wife was straddling him, riding his hard cock while he sucked on her tits.

"Hmm, you feel so good," my wife moaned. "Harder!"

"There's someone in the next stall," the guy protested.

"Let him hear. I bet he could use the cheap thrill!" The slap of flesh grew louder, faster. I stroked my cock faster, matching the beat of their fucking. "Ooh, yes, stud! God, you're fucking my snatch so fucking well!"

"You're such a dirty slut," the man moaned. "Goddamn, I'm gonna cum."

"Oh, don't pull out, I'm on the pill and I love to feel a man shooting inside me!"

"Well here it comes, baby!"

Four more slaps of flesh and then a low, groan from the guy.

"Ohh, flood my cunt, stud! Hmm, I'm cumming, yes, yes! Fuck, yes!"

There was only heavy breathing coming from the stall and then the metallic rasp of a zipper, leather rubbing on metal as a belt was buckled. "Ohh, that was great. You want to get out of here, or something, baby."

"Maybe," my wife purred, "why don't you go get us some drinks while I get cleaned up."

"Sure," the guy answered, the stall opened and he left.

I waited a minute and slipped out of the stall, one hand holding my pants up, my cock jutting hard before me as I opened the stall door. My wife was leaning over the toilet, her ass pointing at me and I could see her freshly fucked cunt between her sleek thighs. Her pussy was wet and dripping white cum that ran thickly down her thighs.

She shook her ass and moaned, "Thank god, Bill, I need to cum real bad!"

"I thought you just did, Erin?"

"That guy shot off too fast. I had to fake it," Erin complained. "I need my husband to finish the job."

I let go of my pants, they dropped down to my ankles. Did she really fake it, or was she just saying that to make me feel better? My cock was hard, pointing at my wife's cunt, it really didn't matter if she enjoyed. All that mattered was that she enjoyed me more. That I could satisfy her better than the stranger that just fucked her. I rubbed the cock up and down on her slit, and then I was inside her sloppy cunt. My wife moaned happily as I slid in and she looked back at me.

"There's the cock I love," she moaned. I leaned in, draping myself across her back as I fucked her and we kissed. "Now, make me cum, stud, with your big cock!"

I fucked my wife hard, sliding a hand up her blouse to her breasts cupped in her bra. I pushed my hands into her bra cups and kneaded her soft tits. Her nipples were hard against my hands and she moaned appreciatively as I played with her sensitive nubs. I was fucking her harder and faster, enjoying her very wet and tight cunt.

"Oh, Bill, that's so good," she moaned. "Umm, yes, fuck me! Fuck your slutty wife!"

"You were such a bad wife," I growled, my groin slamming into her. "Moaning and cooing for that guy, letting him stick his cock inside you."

"His little prick," she corrected with a moan. "I was very bad, so let my naughty cunt make it up to you." She gave a throaty laugh that turned into a moan of pleasure. "Hmm, you're making me cum, Bill, with your big cock! Yes, yes! Ohh, fuck I love you, Bill!"

I was better than that guy! He couldn't even satisfy my wife. But I could. Her cunt was pulsing on my cock, rippling along the length of my shaft as her orgasm trembled throughout her body. I was getting closer to my own cum. My thrust were becoming more powerful, burying my cock all the way inside her, then pulling slowly back, and burying deep into her warm depths, again. I groaned as my cum shot into her, washing her cunt clean of that other's guys spunk.

The guy was still waiting at the bar when we came out of the bathroom, arms about each other's waist. He stood up, his mouth open in shock and then he sat back down at the bar, not sure what to do, other than down his drink. My wife didn't even give him a second glance. When we got home, we made love in the shower after we cleaned that man's filth off my wife.

The next night, I watched Erin getting fucked in the dirty alley behind the Drunken Pugilist. The guy she was fucking didn't seem to care that I was watching, and I didn't care when he watched us as he smoked a cigarette. All I cared about was how much louder my wife moaned for me than for the guy smoking his cigarette.

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