Accidental Cuckold

It had been planned to perfection.

As she stood in front of the line of mirrored wardrobes in her bedroom, admiring herself, Alice Carmichael knew that tonight would be magnificent. All that remained was to put on the finishing touches.

It had been almost two weeks since she'd been alone with the man who was due at her door any moment. She'd had the most intense sexual experience of her life that day, but it was all too brief. Tonight they would take their time, and nothing would get in their way.

Alice lifted the lip-gloss from the dresser and applied a generous amount to her full natural lips. Her bone structure was flawless, and her nearly jet-black hair framed her face and long slender neck, perfectly.

She bobbed her head along to the song that was playing on her phone. The lyrics affirming how wonderful it was indeed, to be a hot girl; a party girl; better than the other girls. She loved those kinds of songs because they didn't pander to lesser females. They were honest, and they were about women like her. She blew a kiss to her reflection, and she was ready.

She had spent the past week deliberating on what to wear for the occasion. Her mind had changed several times. She even considered answering the door naked except for a pair of heels. In the end, she had chosen her gold satin blouse because she loved the way it presented her large firm breasts, and her nipples stood out prominently against the material. She paired that with a grey mini-skirt she had bought as part of a sexy-secretary costume for Halloween night with the girls. The stockings that her husband had bought her for Valentines day were a last minute decision. Alice had never worn them for him, and she got a kick out of the idea that her new man would be the one who got to enjoy her in them.

Alice's husband Steven, would be gone overnight at some work-related thing. He had explained in detail exactly why he had to go, but after he'd said, "staying overnight," she hadn't heard another word.

They had been married just shy of a year, and Alice realised it was a mistake, almost from the get-go.

In truth, she was motivated more by the idea of being a bride than anything else. The attention that it brought, and the fuss everyone made about every little detail was nectar to her. It was what she felt she deserved and she'd become accustomed to the fact that people revelled in her. Coveted her. It was always that way.

From a young age, she found that the men in her life seemed to ask more questions of her than they did of the other girls, and they'd listen more intently to her answers too. The boys at school would go out of their way to help her with things. She'd notice them hanging around awkwardly, trying to think of way to start a conversation.

One of her abiding memories was of a particular young admirer, who had written her a love-letter, and had one his friends deliver it to her at lunch.

It read:

Hi Alice. It's Toby Kaminski.

I think ur really good looking and I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me. We could go bowling or to the movies or whatever you want.

Thanks.

Underneath he had drawn two little boxes, marked YES and NO. The idea being that she would tick her preference and return it to him. Instead of doing that, Alice had approached the unfortunate boy. Ripped the note into pieces, and placed it deliberately in his clammy hand. She could still recall his crestfallen face, full of freckles and extinguished hope, and it made her smile to think of that.

Now in her twenties, Alice was in no doubt about how she was viewed by the world around her. Barely a day went by when she wasn't told, in some form or fashion, that she was special. People seemed to have some kind of innate need to tell the beautiful how beautiful they are, as if they'd have no idea otherwise.

She would often amuse herself by teasing those men, who had made obvious their desire for her. At work she would set herself little tasks to rile them up, and invent reasons to get up and stretch her legs. Like sending unneeded documents to the printer, and walking the full length of the office floor to collect them. As she passed by their workstations, their heads would pop-up above the table dividers like meerkats on patrol. Then she'd lean over the printer, and stick her ass out in an exaggerated fashion to really get them going.

Sometimes, while pretending to sift through paperwork, she liked to sit adjacent to one particular table of excitable young men, who'd pretend not to notice as she crossed and uncrossed her legs. She'd mastered the art of sensual leg-crossing. Slightly tilted to one side. Legs together, always touching and then slide one over the other, slowly. Every now and then she'd lift her head sharply and watch their eyes dart away in embarrassment.

On an odd occasion one of the meerkats, feeling brave, would attempt a clumsy overture. They'd say things like, "hey, Alice what you up to tonight?" and she'd say something like, "wouldn't you like to know."

"you should come out with us," they'd say, and she'd flash them a smile, then point to her wedding ring.

She was tickled by those little moments, but Alice had no sexual interest in men like them. She found them insecure and desperate.

Her husband engendered similar feelings in her now. When they first met, he had a sort of Golden retriever-like enthusiasm, and desire to please that she found endearing. Now she found it cloying. He would sometimes say things that made her think, and she'd laugh at his jokes occasionally too. The sex was never good and his cock was on the smaller side, but he had a good job which afforded her a nice lifestyle. So she threw herself into it and they were married in a matter of months.

When all the hoopla of the wedding and the honeymoon was over, and they were no longer centre of attention, the rot had started to set in for Alice. She soon discovered, all the interesting things he had said to her, and the funny jokes he had told, did not belong to him. They were things he'd heard other people say. Quotes from movies and sitcom one-liners, and they were all he had in lieu of a personality. He was an imaginary construct. A man who had pushed his acting capabilities to the limit, in an attempt to be enough for a woman like her, and he had failed.

She had contemplated leaving him, but there was the money to consider. So she allowed things to drift along in that fashion. Treating him with thinly veiled contempt and pretending not to be repulsed by his constant attempts to win her approval. Until the night that fate intervened on her behalf, and changed the dynamic of their relationship forever.

It was two weeks prior. Alice had gone to bed early, nursing a headache, and Steven was watching TV downstairs. He increasingly enjoyed those little moments of alone time, it offered some respite from his wife's frequent mood swings. Despite that, he loved being married to Alice. It made him feel important in the eyes of others, and gave his life meaning. When he had introduced her to his family and friends she had been a delight. She knew how to put on a show. His teenaged sister Poppy was captivated by her. She looked up to Alice as a mentor, and longed to be like her. She had begun moulding herself in Alice's image. Copying her style, buying the same make-up, and trying to affect the same mannerisms.

Alice loved the attention. She felt like she had her very own disciple, and the pair had grown close because of that. Steven was happy that they got along so well, but whenever they were in each other's company he had noticed certain behaviours. They would invariably gang up on him. Making little jokes at his expense, and giggling like schoolgirls. They would have private conversations, and clam up when entered the room. It made him fell insecure, but it was better that they got along, he thought.

With Alice in bed, it was becoming obvious that something was happening cross the street, in front of the new neighbour's house. Groups of people were greeting each other loudly, and then disappearing inside. Then more of them turned up, and then another group, and then a bigger group until there must have been twenty people or more. Steven's hopes of a quiet night in front of the TV were dissipating.

Shortly after that came the THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! of the music, and he heard Alice's bedroom door opening. Then the sound of the creaking floorboard at the top of the stairs, and suddenly she was standing in front of him, glaring angrily. "What the fuck is that?" she said, in an accusatory tone. Steven was accustomed to that tone. It was how she communicated with him now.

"I think it's that new guy across the street," he replied, "sounds like he's having a party."

"you know I'm trying to sleep?"

"yeah I know, they've got no respect for people," he said, trying to match his wife's mood.

"Well, aren't you gonna do something about it?" said Alice.

Steven hesitated. Already knowing the answer to the question he was about to ask. "What am I supposed to do?" he said, finally.

"You're supposed to be a fucking man, and go over there," she sneered, "but instead of that, you're sitting here. Doing nothing as usual." She was in the mood to test him.

Steven shied away from confrontation, and Alice was acutely aware of it. She was always urging him into uncomfortable situations whenever the opportunity arose.

"Fine," he said, feeling the pressure of his wife's glowering gaze, "if it's such a big deal."

Alice watched eagerly, from the doorway, as her husband crossed the street. He knocked on the neighbours door, but it barely registered against the raucous music. He knocked louder and finally a man answered.

He was tall; athletic looking. Not overly muscular, but Steven judged him a handy fighter on appearance. He wanted to be anywhere else at that moment but he could feel his wife's eyes boring into his back.

"What can I do for you?" the man asked.

Steven stumbled to find the words. "Do you know how loud that music is?" he managed. His intonation more forceful than he intended.

"Listen it's a party," said the man, who regarded Steven in the same way that a lion would a coyote. "We'll try and keep it down."

"Right, well my wife's trying to sleep."

"We'll try and keep it down," the man said again, and went to close the door.

"You better," said Steven.

Later, when he had time to reflect on everything, it occurred to Steven that those two words had turned his world upside down. That moment of faux bravado had pulled him into a situation, he wasn't equipped to handle.

When Alice had seen the man come out of his house, her eyes widened a little. He was impressive; tall with broad shoulders. She couldn't hear the words they had exchanged from across the street, but she watched as the man started to head inside, then stopped, turned and faced up to her husband. They were head to head, or more accurately, chest to head. A nervous tingle built inside her. Then, in a flash, the man swung at Steven with his left hand, and before he had time to process that, the man swung again with his right. It caught Steven flush on the jaw.

Alice watched as her husband fell limp to the ground, then tried to stand up too quickly and tumbled over again, like a dazed boxer trying to beat the count.

"Get in here!" shouted Alice, keenly aware that some of the neighbours were peering through the curtains. It was one thing for her to know that her husband was pathetic, but quite another for the whole street to know.

"Steven, get in here now!" she yelled again, as their elderly neighbour Harry, rushed across and offered himself as ballast for Steven to steady against. He flung Steven's arm over his shoulder and helped him stagger back to the house, and plopped Steven down on the couch as gently as his old frame could manage.

Harry looked to Alice. "have you got anything to drink. Something strong?"

Alice pointed to the sideboard, and said, "I'm sorry about this Harry. The trouble he causes."

Harry made a gesture to signify it was no trouble. He poured Steven a drink and handed it to him. Steven reached out a trembling hand and took it, but when he tried to take a sip he winced in pain.

"I don't like the look of that," harry said, as he inspected Steven's jaw. "Should we call the police?"

"Noooo!" Steven objected. Feeling enough shame for one day.

Harry had a fondness for Steven. They had gotten to know each other quite well in the months since they'd moved in. Harry was a collector of old war memorabilia, and Steven had recalled his late father's old collection, so the two bonded over that. Harry had even invited him over and given him the grand tour of the war-room. There were racks of guns on every wall, and lots of display cases filled with things like bayonets, shell casings, old grenades, and gas masks.

Steven felt happiest in the company of older folk. They were easier to talk to and he didn't feel that oppressive need to pretend with them, as he did with his peers.

Alice found it odd that he wanted to spend his time with an old man, and she'd told him as much. Steven didn't go over there as often after that.

"It could be broken," said Harry. "I could drive you to the hospital."

"I jusssht want to shhhhit here for a while," said Steven, slurring his words. His mind was a torrent of terrible thoughts. He had let his wife down. What must she think of him? Who else had seen the sorry episode. What must they think?

"you've done enough Harry, honestly," said Alice. Trying her best to mask her zeal.

"okay then," said the old man. "let me know how it goes."

"will do. Thanks Harry" Alice replied, as she escorted him out and closed the door behind him. She didn't say another word or look at Steven, before heading upstairs to the quiet of the bedroom. The sound of the music was gone. She sat on the bed open-mouthed processing what had just happened. It was wrong to feel giddy, but she couldn't deny the truth of it. Seeing her husband handled like that, had thrilled her to her core. She lay her head on the pillow, but it would be a while before she fell asleep. She was too excited.

When he woke the next day, Steven's pain had worsened, and his face appeared crooked when he examined it in the mirror. He decided he'd better go to the hospital after all.

Alice watched him leave and then quickly started to get dressed. She had made up her mind, as she lay awake, that she would introduce herself to the man across the street. On the pretext that she was an angry wife, defending her husbands honour.

Wearing a frilly white sun-skirt patterned with cherries, Alice applied some moisturizing oil to her sun-kissed legs, and clipped on an ankle bracelet bearing her initials. She had learned that men loved all the little feminine accoutrements that she had in her arsenal.

She corrected her lipstick with her pinky finger, and dashed across the street as quickly as she could move in heels. She knocked on the door and waited.

The man answered to see a vision of loveliness stood before him. She had everything a man could want. He judged her among the most beautiful women he'd ever seen in the flesh, perhaps the most beautiful.

"I live across the street," Alice began, "and that was my husband you beat up last night. He's had to go to the hospital. What have you got to say about that?"

Alice had noticed his stature the night before, but now she could see, for the first time, his rugged handsomeness and piercing green eyes. Her enthusiasm for this meeting was growing by the second.

"Look," said the man, "I shouldn't have over-reacted, but in fairness, he deserved it the way he spoke to me."

"well, do you know how it feels to see another man treat your husband like that?"

"No," he said, "how does it feel."

Alice wanted to answer his impertinent question earnestly. Tell him how thrilling it was, watching her husband be emasculated like that. But she kept her counsel.

"embarrassing." she said, finally. Her lips curling into a faint but discernable smile in a moment of duper's delight.

"I can only imagine," he replied.

"well, lucky for you I convinced him not to call the cops," she lied.

"Listen, my name's Lucas, do you want to come in?" he said. Knowing that if she were simply here to admonish him, the conversation would likely have begun differently.

Alice stepped inside without saying a word. She scanned the living room for clues about the man who had piqued her interest. The place was neat and tidy, with simple modern décor. There was one pair of men's shoes by the door. She saw no evidence of a woman's presence in the house.

"Can I get you a drink?" Lucas asked. "Just a water," she replied, as she followed him into the kitchen. She ran her eyes over his back, and his ass. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt which showed off his strong physique.

Lucas placed two bottles of sparkling water on the kitchen table, pulled out a chair for his guest and sat himself in front of her. "I never got your name." he said.

"Alice." she replied.

"I won't make any wonderland jokes. I'm sure you've heard them all." said Lucas. Alice smirked and rolled her eyes. "That was one of the first things my husband ever said to me."

"And it worked?" Lucas replied.

"Not really, he showed me his bank statement. That worked."

Lucas laughed, and took a large gulp from his bottle. He eyed her tits under the tight black vest she was wearing. He could already tell they were impeccable.

"Anyway, you shouldn't have hit him like that, you're much bigger" Alice continued.

"You might be right," Lucas replied, "but if I didn't, you wouldn't be sitting in front of me right now."

"That's true," said Alice, trying to suppress a grin.

"Things happen how they're supposed to happen, I think," Lucas went on.

Alice crossed her legs in the way that had become natural. She watched his eyes dart back and forth from her breasts, to her legs, to her face. Ordinarily she would expect the man to make the first move, but she didn't have time for that. She was emboldened.

"What's your favourite part?" she asked.

"My favourite part of what?"

"Me," she said.

A devilish grin spread across Alice's face and she bit her bottom lip. That was enough for Lucas. He grabbed the sides of Alice's chair and pulled her towards him. She leaned in and playfully flicked her tongue against his top lip, then sat back and rolled her black vest-top up and over her bare chest. "Is this what you want?" she asked, as he gazed in appreciation at the things men dream about.

Lucas placed his hands under her arms and lifted her onto the kitchen table. Alice peeled off her white satin panties and freed one leg, leaving them to dangle on the other. She spread her legs out, presenting herself to him. Lucas saw her hairless pussy and let out a grunt of approval. He placed his mouth over it and began massaging her clit with his tongue. He was good, almost too good. She tried to wriggle away from the intensity of it, but his strong arms kept her there. He lessened the pressure with his tongue, and the sound she made told him that was her sweet spot. Alice lay back, using the wall as a headrest, and watched him work.

The hands that had caused her husband's injuries were on her thighs now, and they were big hands; manly hands. She reached down and caressed them as she rolled her hips in rhythm with his movements. The wickedness of it all, electrified her. "I want you to fuck me," she said.

Lucas stood up, threw his T-shirt to the floor, and started to unbutton his jeans. Alice slid off the table, kicked off her underwear fully, and stood back against the refrigerator. Creating some distance to take in the view. She swept her hair back from her face and tried to catch her breath, fixing her gaze on his noticeable bulge. Then she lifted the hem of her sun-skirt and tucked it into the waistband, so that Lucas could see all of her. He tugged at his jeans, and freed his hard cock.

Alice's eyes grew like dinner plates. She had expected him to be big, but his thickness surprised her. She gave an audible gasp to show her appreciation.

"Like it?" asked Lucas, with a knowing smirk.

"I fucking love it," she replied, and strutted towards him like a runway model. She wrapped her fingers around his fat dick, wanking him a little as they kissed.

Lucas lifted her up, and carried her back to the living room. He plopped her down on the couch and fondled her engorged tits, before taking her stiff nipples in his mouth. Her entire groin felt like it was glowing. Her wet lips had parted slightly, and there was a mild ache around her clitoris, signalling that she was as turned on as it was possible to be.

Lucas slid his hard length along her cunt, teasing her. Then he rubbed the head against her swollen clit until she was moaning uncontrollably. She could have cum then, but he stopped, and pulled her ass off the couch towards him. Alice kicked off her heels and swung her legs over his shoulders.

Lucas slipped into her slowly, taking extra care not to cause her discomfort with his size. Alice nodded her head, giving him permission to fill her. Her husband was small by comparison, but she owned dildos that had better prepared her for a man this size.

"fuck me hard, okay?" she said, submissively, as he begun to pump inside her. She didn't have to ask him twice. Her wet pussy gripped his glistening prick as he picked up pace. He was fucking her now, with piston-like strokes, connecting with her clit each time their bodies clapped together. Alice was in heaven.

She had fucked other men in the time she'd been married, but none like this. None so commanding; so sure of himself; so capable of delivering pleasure.

Lucas flipped her over on her knees. "yes!" Alice responded, "fuck me like that." He entered her again, grabbing her hips for purchase. He was pounding her pussy now and she was on fire for him.

"fuck you!" she cried, in feigned defiance at his sexual dominance. Her pelvis was radiating joy now, and it was spreading throughout her body. She would cum soon, and Lucas could feel her clenching cunt, grasping at his cock.

"you big fucking bully!" Alice exclaimed. She reached down and gave herself a little rub, and her body began to spasm. Lucas wrapped his strapping arms around her, cradling her, and groping at her tits, as she shuddered violently underneath him.

Alice reached her arms out, searching for something to grab onto, but found only air. Her body was acting on it's own. Possessed by all of those nerve-endings tickling her insides.

"you big bully." She repeated. Her breathless voice full of lust.

Lucas withdrew his cock and stood over her, watching her squirm on the floor below. He loved to make women cum. There was nothing so beautiful and satisfying, in his eyes, as the sight of a well fucked woman.

Alice turned her face towards him. Pleasure waves still coursing through her body. Lucas began stroking his big dick, as she looked on, admiring him like some all conquering king. He reached down and took her left hand in his, placed it beneath his cock and with a groan he splashed his seed all over her arm, her hand and her ring finger.

Alice's mouth fell open at the sight of her cum-soaked wedding ring, then she burst into laughter, and so did her new stud. With that one deliberate act of defilement she knew that he understood her. He understood that betrayal was part of it for her. She had called him a bully, and he knew what that meant. There had never been a man in her life who had matched her wicked sexual energy, but she had found that man now. She lay in his arms and they kissed, knowing that her marriage vows had been desecrated. She wanted more of this, much much more.

Steven munched on some fast-food, and flipped through the radio stations trying to find something that would quieten his thoughts. He had parked the car two streets away from the house, to avoid being seen. The sun had set and dusk was approaching. People were returning home after a hard weekend shift, and others were heading out to indulge in their various leisures. It wouldn't be long now, he imagined.

When Harry had told him he'd seen Alice go into Lucas' house, Steven felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. Out of pride, he'd tried to play it off and pretend he knew about the visit, but he could tell that his old pal wasn't buying it.

The day in question was the day he'd gone to the hospital. The thought of that made him feel ill. His jaw had been dislocated and they clicked it back into place. Alice had been unusually sympathetic towards him, he remembered. In fact, she'd been more agreeable in general that week.

Since that conversation with Harry, Steven could think of nothing else. He had decided to undertake a covert operation. It made him feel like a modern day Phillip Marlowe. He told Alice that he had to attend a work seminar on team-building. He'd be gone all day Saturday and wouldn't be home until Sunday afternoon. He had scanned her face for a reaction, but she gave nothing away. For this plan to work he'd need to know when Lucas arrived at the house. So he made a trip to his company's warehouse to pick up a small device that they held in stock. It was designed to detect a heat signature, if anyone passed by. Then it would send a ping to Steven's phone to let him know someone had crossed the threshold.

The device was simple, and small enough that he could secretly place it overhead, between the door-frame and the brickwork. Well out of sight of anyone who wasn't looking for it.

Steven sat in his car, waiting for an alert that he hoped would never come. He took a bite of his fast-food burger, and wiped his fingers on a napkin. All he could do now, was wait.

The doorbell rang at eight thirty. Alice shimmied down the stairs to answer it. She did one final check of her make-up in the hallway mirror, then opened the door.

Lucas was casually dressed, like the first time they met. It had only been a couple of weeks but Alice had forgotten all the little details of his face. Now she got to appreciate him all over again. His square jaw, light stubble and striking green eyes.

"Unbelievable," said Lucas, as he gave her the once over.

"Thanks," she replied. Her head tilted; affecting a slightly softer voice than usual.

She reached down and rubbed his crotch through his jeans. Then stood back, and unbuttoned her gold satin blouse. Letting it fall open over her bra-less breasts, just barely covering her nipples. She grabbed at the hem of her tight office skirt, tugging it up over her bare, shapely ass, allowing it to sit on her waist.

Lucas shook his head in appreciation. Alice smiled knowingly, then turned and slowly ascended the stairs. Lucas followed behind, drinking in the view.

The phone pinged, and Steven felt his throat tighten.

The thought of his wife in bed with another man was almost too much to bear. He had waited a half hour, before approaching the house. That would give them time to settle in, he thought.

He decided he would go in the back door and enter from the kitchen. That way, he wouldn't walk right in on them if they were having sex on the couch. He didn't want that. He slid his key into the lock as gently as he could manage, and turned the handle slowly. Then he entered the house and closed the door behind him.

In the kitchen, the door to the living room was shut, and there was no sound. He looked around for any signs of a rendezvous; wine bottles on the kitchen counter, or empty glasses, but there were none. He approached the door to the living room, and quietly turned the handle.

When he entered, It hit him like a ton of bricks. He stopped dead in his tracks, and his heart sank. It was a sound he'd never heard before. The sound Alice made when she was being fucked properly. It was coming from the upstairs bedroom. Steven felt sick, but he wanted to hear more, he needed to be closer to her voice.

He climbed the staircase nervously. Preoccupied by his wife's ululations, and driven by compulsion. He planted his foot on the loose floor-board at the top of the stairs. The floor squeaked, and Steven stopped dead still, like a deer in the middle of the road. He waited, expecting he'd blown his cover; expecting the door to open, but the sounds of sex continued to permeate the air.

He stepped off gently and continued on, until he found himself facing the door, behind which his wife was being fucked hard. He could hear everything now. His wife's cries of pleasure. Her lover's grunts and groans as he endeavoured to give her everything he had. The sound of the bed taking the strain, and a low humming noise, which he assumed was some kind of vibrator. He tried to visualize the scene. His mind conjured filthy images of Alice in various positions. A beaming smile on her face.

Then he heard his wife cry out, "I love your big cock!" and he almost sank to his knees in anguish. He looked down at his own dick, and suddenly realised that it was hard and pressed against his pants. The shame of that washed over him.

"I'm gonna cum," he heard Alice say, and then she let out a whimpering cry. Something inside Steven snapped, and impulse took over. He grabbed a vase from the hallway table, and charged into the room. He saw Lucas flat on the bed with Alice on top, riding him with conviction. Steven's eyes darted everywhere, overwhelmed by all the perverted sights. There were sex toys strewn over the bed, and a jar of coconut oil. Alice's body was covered in it, glistening. Her stockings were bunched around her ankles. Her face flushed.

She looked up at Steven, startled, as he sent the vase crashing against the wall. Alice slid off of Lucas who was unfazed. She sat on the bed, covered her mouth with her hand and began to giggle. Steven saw Lucas' cock for the first time, and he felt defeated.

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!" Steven screamed.

"Good," said Alice, through her giggles, "now fuck off."

Lucas let out a bellowing laugh. Steven searched for the right words but he couldn't find any. Instinct told him to get out of there, as his wife had instructed, but pride suddenly gripped him. He turned

"You need to go," he said to Lucas.

Alice interjected. "He's not going anywhere. We're not finished yet." Steven was, dumbfounded. He hadn't prepared for this. She was supposed to show contrition; Cover herself up, tell her lover to go. That was the natural response in this situation. But instead she reached a hand down and gripped Lucas' large cock, taunting her husband.

"Look at that big cock," she said. Then she gave it a kiss, and circled it with her tongue.

"This is Lucas," she continued, "but you've already met." She slid her leg over and straddled him again. Sinking herself down on his erection. She was facing the foot of the bed. Eye to eye with her husband, and with venom in her voice, she said, "you're worthless. Good for nothing, and everybody can see it. So just watch." Lucas grunted at the undeniable fiendishness of her words.

Steven tottered back, as if struck by a mortal blow. He rested against the mirrored wardrobes, and slumped down. Alice was riding her lover hard, just feet from his face. She had known this would be a special night, but she couldn't have known how special it would turn out to be. She had been contemplating telling her husband she was having an affair, just to see the pain in his eyes. But this was better. Now he could really suffer.

Alice leaned back against Lucas' body and threw her legs in the air to give her husband full view of all the best parts. Lucas reached around with his big hands, and ran them all over Alice's tits and torso. She lifted her favourite magic wand from the bed and placed it above her clit. She looked at Steven again and saw a mixture of sadness and lust in his eyes.

"This is how a real man fucks," she hissed, as Lucas thrust into her from below. Steven's gaze followed the hands that were groping at his wife's treasured areas. It hurt more than anything he'd ever felt, but he had a hard-on. He felt pitiful, conquered. Part of him wanted to erupt, and put an end to this, but a bigger part wanted to keep watching. To indulge in Alice's pleasure. A pleasure he was incapable of providing.

"make me cum again," she urged Lucas. "I want him to see me cum on you." Lucas cradled her in close, to give him better traction. With long controlled strokes he began picking up pace, and Alice sounded her satisfaction. She held the toy carefully in the perfect spot, determined to come to a climax.

Steven's hand hovered over his own erection, aching to set it free. To pleasure himself to the sight of this big stud sullying his princess, but he couldn't summon the courage, not yet. He watched in awe, at Lucas' prowess. He was made for this, thought Steven. Alice was right, he was a real man. I could never compete, he told himself.

Steven could feel his pride evaporating, all that was left now were impure thoughts. Gawking longingly at his lovely wife. Her undulating breasts slick with oil. The paws of another man, sliding all over her perfect flesh. His thick cock hammering her.

"I'm cumming!" exclaimed Alice. She let the magic wand fall on the bed and began writhing in the throes of orgasm. Lucas withdrew himself slowly, and a dribble of pussy juice ran between Alice's buttocks. She reached down and rubbed her clit gently, fixing her dreamy gaze on her pathetic excuse for a husband. They locked eyes for what must've been seconds but felt like an age. Alice's eyes filled with lust and determination. She wanted to say something hurtful, something that would pierce his soul, but her orgasm was irresistible.

Steven had never seen her come before. It was the most exquisite thing he'd ever witnessed. His cock was stiff and begging to be touched.

Alice's orgasm was subsiding. She rested her head on the bed, dishevelled and spent. Finally able to speak. "Tell me how much you love me," she said to Steven. His brain could barely compute. Whatever he expected when he entered the house, it was not this. Yet he couldn't tear himself away. The adrenaline was surging through him and his face blushed bright red.

"I love you so much," he replied. The indignity of it overcame him as he said it.

"I know you do," she said with a scornful laugh. Steven loved her laugh. It was above all else, his favourite thing about her. Her eyes lit-up when she laughed, and her face was so expressive. She was expressing something with it now. Victory, complete and total victory.

Alice stood up, on weak legs. She took Lucas' hand and led him to the front of the room, so that they were standing in front of her husband. Giving him a front-row seat. She knelt down in front of Lucas, and stuck her tongue out, urging him to finish there. Lucas jerked his cock until he unleashed splashes of cum against her chin, her mouth and her cheeks.

Alice lay her back against the bed, her stud's cum trickling down onto her tits and legs.

"That'll give you something to think about when you wank your little cock," she said. "you should go and do that for me, now."

Steven started to speak, but he had nothing to say that would mean anything. His mouth was as dry as an old sandal and there was a lump in his throat the size of a golf ball. He picked himself up off the floor and started to leave, when Alice tapped him on the hip with her foot, extending a stockinged leg. "take this with you," she said, wiggling her foot at him. Steven took Alice's foot in his hand. Hoping this wouldn't be the last time he would get to touch them. He peeled the stocking off of her leg, and carried it to the bathroom.

He removed his clothes and sat over the toilet in a crouched position, holding the bunched up stocking over his mouth and nose. Then with two fingers and a thumb he jerked his stiff little prick frantically. Within seconds he was ejaculating into the toilet water, and in a flash it was over. His ardour almost immediately turned to regret.

A sense of fear overcame him. Fear that it was over. Fear that, whatever Alice's future looked like, it wouldn't include him. Her cruel words were ringing in his ears, and he knew they were all true. He had been kidding himself that a woman like her could be satisfied by him. Every negative thought, that he ever tried to suppress, flooded into his mind like a bath-tub drain. He wasn't to know that Alice was already designing her future, and it did include him. She wanted to give him more of what she gave him tonight. A lot more. There was no turning back.