Cuckold Consequences - Ch. 05

I didn't like being ambushed. Having Gwen and Carrie show up at my hotel room door and practically dragging me out to dinner was not something I wanted to do. What I wanted to do was stay in my room and wallow. To watch pay-per-view movies that I wouldn't pay attention to. Hell, maybe I'd even purchase one of those X-rated movies they sell and just jerk off like some sad, impotent man that's lost his wife to some inferior, big dicked... dick. Because that's exactly what I was.

I felt impotent. Displaced. Though I was still holding out a few little strings of hope that maybe my marriage could be salvaged... the truth was...

Well, I didn't want to face the truth. Not right now.

That probably makes me pathetic. Delusional. I'm sure there would be plenty of people telling me to just peace out. Leave my wife. Leave it all. It's how I'd felt the other day... geez, had I only been like... three days? It felt like weeks. Months. That drive away from my house, my home, and the lingering thoughts of just driving away and never looking back...

"Where were they going without ever knowing the way..." I muttered the song lyric to myself as it slumped in my chair, a fancy hamburger in front of me along with a locally brewed IPA. Whomever came up with artisanal hamburgers was insane. Why did everything need to be fancy?

"What?" Gwen looked up from her Chef Salad, eyebrow raised, fork halfway to her mouth.

Carrie was leaning back, tipping her own beer bottle to her lips and giving me a sly grin. "Love that song." She said around the bottle.

I tapped my fingers against the table. "Classic." I muttered.

Gwen put down her fork. "Okay, how is it you guys already have some sort of inside, mind meld, BS, after sleeping together once?" The look she was giving us wasn't all that serious, but there was definitely a glint of curiosity in her gaze as she leveled her eyes on me.

My cheeks reddened. I still couldn't believe that Carrie had told Gwen about what happened. I'd honestly hoped it could be something we just forgot. I was embarrassed. I felt guilty. And now my boss knew... would that create some sort of conflict of interest? Was this dinner actually a nice way of telling me I'm fired for sexual misconduct? Wouldn't that just be the icing on the cake? Losing my wife. My home. My job. Everything. If I were paranoid, I'd think that maybe this whole thing was orchestrated, planned. But sometimes... sometimes life is just shit.

Carrie rolled her eyes. "You can't seriously not know that song." She leaned forward, elbows on the table, reaching for a large steak fry on her plate and swirling it around in ketchup.

Gwen sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I didn't hear what he said, so how could I know or not know..."

I tuned out their discussion about the song I'd been humming. Not because I loved it. Though I did. But because it was how I felt. Where am I going? I don't know the way? Either I'm losing my marriage or...

There was heat behind my eyes. I shut them and took a few calming breaths, grabbing my beer and taking a drink to try to hide the fact that I was on the verge of tears. I didn't want to think how it was all falling apart. I wanted to think of when it was good. To think and remember when we were in love...

My chest tightened, burned. When was the last time Julie told me she loved me? And not just a platitude of words. A knee jerk reaction. But really told me that she loved me?

Ironically... though I'm not sure that's the proper use of the term, it was probably one of the last times we'd had sex before I started falling apart. Before it all began to really sour for me. But it was like a rotting fruit. Inside becoming mush but outside only showing some bruises before finally withering and becoming black and putrid. I'd been suffering for so long... keeping it inside, hoping it would change. Go back to how it had begun. Instead... I'd finally burst. I'd sat in the corner too many times and had enough.

But before that... before I finally got up what little courage I had and left... I could only remember one time in the last month or more, that Julie told me she loved me... and I believed it...

-- --

The room was thick with the smell of sweat and sex. I was laying back in our bed, head on our pillows, watching my wife's sensual back, slick with perspiration, ass slapping up and down on my thighs, my waist. Catching a glimpse of my cock sliding in and out of her pussy, bare and smooth, stretched around me and clinging tight as she moaned.

But she wasn't moaning for me. I knew she wasn't. She hadn't moaned for me in weeks. At least... that's how it seemed.

The bed frame creaked, mattress compressing as Devon stood in front of Julie, feet planted on either side of my legs, hand in my wife's hair guiding her mouth down his cock. The man was an unsightly lump. Naked in the soft light of the nightstand lamps, his whole body was hairy and matted, man boobs rivaling Julie's breasts. Fat stomach sticking out and flapping when he moved. Lumpy ass and thick thighs. Seeing him there in front of Julie, guiding her back and forth, making her moan deep and guttural, made it hard for me to keep my erection.

It didn't matter that Julie's cunt was on fire and squeezing so tightly it was almost painful. Every glimpse I caught of the man claiming my wife sent a shudder through me and made my stomach twist and threatened to make me go soft.

"That's it baby girl." Devon groaned, pushing her down, down, till her nose was nestled into his sweaty pubes. "Take every inch. That's what you want. Good, babe." He was sneering down at her. Teeth gleaming in the light. His eyes spared me a quick glance, and that condescending look made me sick.

Julie moaned, nuzzling her nose against him. His cock deep in her throat. Groaning around him as he held her, making her breathe in his musk.

I kept hold of her hips, guiding her up and down my cock. It felt so good, but all the emotions inside were at war and made it nearly impossible to enjoy what was happening. This was supposed to be fun. A threesome. Giving Julie two cocks... but I was starting to question if she'd already experienced this.

A week before, Devon had sent me a video of him and Julie and another woman...

I shook the memory away before it took hold and made me lose focus. I tried thrusting my hips up, hitting deep inside her, my balls slapping against her clit. But the moans she gave didn't seem to be coming from what I was doing. It was all coming from Devon.

"Suck it down. Good... oh fuck yes, look up at me when you do that. Like that Julie. Good." Devon was smiling so wickedly.

I thrust. Fucked hard. But it didn't seem to matter. To be good enough.

Devon pulled his cock out of her mouth and slapped it gently against her lip. "Tell me you want this."

"Fuck..." she gasped. I couldn't see her face. How was she looking at him? "I want it, Devon. Please. I fucking want it."

He rubbed the tip around her lips. "Want what?"

"Your cock." The soft sounds of kisses echoed in the room.

"Fuuuuuck." He muttered, eyes watching my wife. "That's good. Worship it... show me you love it."

Julie groaned, her soft wet kisses continuing to drift to me as I tried to stay focused and keep fucking her. "Yesss... I want this big, fat cock. Please, Devon... please..."

His hand was in her hair, guiding her around, moving her head so she was kissing along this length and making her lick and scrape her teeth along his skin. "You want this inside you instead of that little dick you have now?" Again, the man's eyes flicked to me and that sneer on his face made me want to vomit.

"YES!" she gasped, hands on his cock stroking it, kissing all over it with soft, warm, slick kisses and licks. "I fucking want you to stretch me. Fill me. Fuck, I want you to ruin my little pussy please, please, Devon, please!"

I grit my teeth at the words my wife was spewing. And I hated that they made my cock hard. Even as I was struggling inside with all my feelings, that cuckolding attitude was erotic and thrilling. A surge of anger, of humiliation, of frustration and... of desire. Of love. Made me reach up and grab my wife's hair.

I pulled her away from Devon, who grunted in surprise and glared at me. I wrapped my arms around Julie, and for a moment we were a tangle of limbs as I moved her around. Turning her to face me. Grabbing her hips and thrusting her down onto me. Holding her hair and pulling her down to me, kissing hard, deep, thrusting my tongue into her mouth as I fucked her cunt.

"Oh... oh holy fuck... fuck Tom... Tom oh shit stop... no... no... it's... hard... oh god fuckingshit fuck god yes fucking yes yes yes" She was crying. I was pulling her hair hard, almost hard enough that I was afraid I might pull some out. My other hand was on her ass, holding her tight, digging my nails in and thrusting relentlessly into her.

Every muscle was burning. My abs were straining. But I didn't let up. I couldn't. I had to fuck her. To show her I'm not pathetic. I'm not small. I'm not worthless.

I lost track of Devon. I didn't care about him.

Julie's tear-filled eyes met mine as I pounded like a reckless piston. "Tom!" She was whimpering.

"Oh god Julie!" I gasped, biting her lip. Kissing her hard. I couldn't hold on much longer. I wanted to make her cum, but I couldn't control myself.

She was whimpering. I kept her gaze as I rammed in over and over and over...

"I love you..." she whispered. Our noses touching. Sweat dripped along her eyebrows, down the slope and curve of her cheeks. My balls were slapping her ass over and over and I was gritting my teeth as my orgasm reached out to choke me.

"I... love... you... too..." I gasped, panted, breathed as my orgasm overtook me and I shot my cum deep inside my wife. It burst like a dam opening to release the waters. Shooting deep, thick, burning hot.

Julie cried. Tears all down her cheeks. Arching back, eyes closed as she whimpered and let me fuck her so hard she'd be sore tomorrow. "I love you. I love you. Oh god Tom I love you!" She whimpered and shivered.

I emptied myself... I filled her. It started dripping out down my pulsing balls.

It ended too soon.

Before my orgasm was even fully finished. Devon was reaching for her. Pulling her off me. Putting her on her back on the bed, spreading her legs and pushing himself into her, ignoring the fact that she was full of my cum. Her pussy stretched wide, and she came. She came for Devon, not for me. I may have brought her to the edge, but he pushed her over. She screamed as his massive dick stretched and sank into her.

He took hold of her neck, squeezing lightly, making her gasp and then began to thrust. Pounding. I saw his hairy, lumpy ass flexing. I watched as I lost my wife.

-- --

There was no way I could have known that after that night, my sexual contact with Julie would wane to nothing. That was over a month ago. And the weeks following had been horrible... because it wasn't even that I was cut off at first. It was because I'd lost the ability to please her. And after a few times of not being able to rise to the occasion, I was finally just blocked.

That night Devon took her from me, literally. Fucked her for another solid hour. Making her cum over and over. Shooting his own cum inside her twice, mixing it with mine. I'm sure he thought his cum was superior... that was the sort of man Devon was. As lowly as he looked and acted, he believed himself to be greater than everyone else. They just couldn't see it.

The man was a fucking parasite. A tick. I wanted to squeeze him and make him pop and then throw him away. I wanted him to be a stain and a memory. But he was still here, still in my life, gorging himself on my wife. On what should have been mine. And what made it more emasculating was... Julie wanted him there. She'd said as much. She loved him. She liked fucking him. And she didn't feel like she should have to give that up because my jealousy had gotten the better of me.

I'd allowed them to get attached, and now I was paying the price.

I sat my beer down and pushed my half-eaten burger away.

Gwen and Carrie stopped their in-depth discussion about Fastball and their hit songs. Hard to believe anyone could have that much to say about the old band, but... sometimes it was nice to talk about nothing. The look Gwen was giving me... ugh, she was so genuinely concerned for me. I didn't deserve it.

"Tom..." she began.

"Please..." I stopped her. "Just... I guess I get why you dragged me out here. If Carrie told you about..." I cleared my throat. "What we did... then she must have told you about... what's going on at home."

"To be fair." Carrie said, motioning with her beer bottle. "You weren't super clear about what was going on. Just that you hadn't had sex in a month and Julie was basically cheating."

I tapped my fingers against my nearly empty bottle and took a slow breath. "Yes, and... no." I chewed at my lip. Should I tell them? If I did... how would they react? Would they think I was a freak? A degenerate? A creepy pervert? I'd read plenty of opinions about the cuckold lifestyle. How the husband was stupid for letting his wife whore herself out. There were so many negative things. And yet... they had some valid points too sometimes, in their own twisted and angry way.

But this was my life. My decisions. Opinions could be factored in. But I had to make the choices.

My phone buzzed. I knew instinctively it was Julie, and I didn't want to answer. But society has conditioned me to check my phone nearly every few minutes and so I pull it from my pocket, checking the voicemail. I read the transcript quickly and then stared blankly at the phone.

The girls stayed quiet. Watching me. I guess it was nice that they were willing to listen. To be here for me and be patient. I traced my finger around the lip of my beer, my brain moving far too fast and yet far too slowly. The hum of the surrounding restaurant filled the void as I took an embarrassing amount of time before I finally put my phone down and started to speak. "So..." I sighed and looked up at the industrial ceiling. Exposed ductwork and concrete. "Julie and I..." I sucked at my teeth.

"Tom." Gwen reached out and put a hand on my arm. "I promise we won't judge you. We won't criticize. We are just here to listen and help. If you want us to." Her words were so sincere, and her touch was warm and comforting.

Carrie nodded solemnly. That was a surprise. She definitely wasn't the touchy feely, heart to heart person. But she had offered to listen this morning. Even after what we'd done. They were my friends. It was nice to know I wasn't alone.

I took a deep breath. "Julie and I have been in a cuckolding relationship for almost a year now..." Just saying the words out loud made me feel as if a pit were opening up, but instead of swallowing me, it began to burst forth with all the depravity I'd been a part of. I was a tank full to bursting and I was finally allowed to empty myself of the burden. I looked away from the girl's, clenching my jaw as I continued to speak. "The other night we were... in the middle of things and... I just couldn't take it anymore." My breath shuddered. "So I left..."

-- --

Julie hadn't realized just how much space Tom had taken up in her life until he wasn't there anymore. The house felt so empty. Her husband's one text over an hour ago had given her hope, but it had also twisted her inside. She couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, nightmares flashed and memories began playing on repeat. Sometimes they melded together into something horrific that she couldn't even put words to them.

She changed out of her soaked leggings and panties, opting for an oversized t-shirt to cover herself, and started walking through the house as if she were searching for something. The source of a noise, or in this case, a lack thereof. It felt as if the house had been hollowed out. Everything was still in its place. Clutter and photos and furniture, but without Tom... she felt like a ghost in her own home.

It didn't always feel that way. She could remember running from Tom as he attempted to tickle her. Squealing and laughing as she bolted to the living room where he caught her, tumbling to the floor where their laughter turned to kisses, pulling off his shirt, her jeans getting pulled down and making love slow and needy. Hands in her husband's hair as he entered her, lips on her neck...

Devon's shadow loomed in the memory, and Julie's mind immediately compared. That moment had been romantic and beautiful, but... it hadn't been raw like it was with Devon. She knew that wasn't fair. Comparing. Tainting a memory that she wanted to hold close and cherish, but... why couldn't she make herself focus?

Yes, Devon's cock was big. He fucked her like she never imagined was possible. The orgasms were earth shattering. And the things she'd done since he came into her life had exposed something inside her that had been hiding and was now too much of an integral part of her. She couldn't just give it up.

Even for your marriage?

The thought speared itself through her heart and she let herself slump down into the living room armchair. Something inside her withered. She felt cold. Suddenly the hollow house was oppressive and that hollow feeling was inside her.

Eight months ago, the answer to that question would have been instant. I'll give up anything to fix my marriage. Nothing is worth losing it.

The fact that she'd just questioned herself and didn't have an answer... even now... made her sick. But she couldn't lie. She couldn't force an answer, even if it would have been the "moral" answer. There was no question that her marriage was... if not ruined, changed. It couldn't go back to what it was. Doors were open. New desires exposed. She wasn't going to run away from her sexuality.

But was Tom asking her to?

The feeling of nausea washed over her. How had she misjudged so much? Sex had clouded her mind. Devon had wormed himself into her mind and body and, on some level, a very powerful and potent level, she loved it. Wanted it. There was a thrill to it. It was the feeling of adrenaline junkies. Those that threw themselves into dangerous situations to get the blood pumping and the chemicals brewing inside and washing through their senses.

Julie stumbled from the chair and sprinted to the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet with coughs and sobs. A chill ran through her and she clutched her stomach as it threatened to boil over again.

She had no choice but to close her eyes as she knelt on the floor and let memories flash...

-- --

I texted Julie.

" ????♥️"

We'd left the restaurant as I related my story and situation. Once I started talking, I couldn't stop. And when it was very clear that the subject matter was very... inappropriate for public consumption, we moved from a room full of families and late night diners to my hotel.

It fell out of me as if I were being disemboweled. I confessed it all as the girls quietly listened. Truth be told, I probably told them more than was really necessary. About the humiliation. How at first I liked it, reveled in it. The complexity of feelings, loving the erotic intoxication of it all, but also feeling abused.

Just admitting that... that I felt abused... brought up even more mixed emotions. Abuse was a big word. A loaded term. Not something to be thrown around lightly. There were people out there that were being hurt. What had happened to me that I felt entitled to use the term? I'd invited another man into my marriage. Watched as he'd taken my wife. Pushed her boundaries. Threw insults at me. Demeaned me... It was self-inflicted.

And then I confessed my impotence.

That made Carrie raise an eyebrow.

"Uh. Tom..." She was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on her hands as it was leaning against the dresser, arms folded and staring at the floor, afraid to meet anyone's eyes. "I hate to break it to you... but you are far from impotent. I was still dripping this morning at work..."

Gwen, sitting next to her, legs crossed, smacked Carrie on the arm and glared. "Can you keep it in your pants! This isn't the time."

Carrie rubbed her arm. "Hey, I'm just saying. If Tom was impotent, then there's no way what we did last night would have happened." She looked back at me with genuine curiosity.

I sighed, hands gripping the edge of the dresser. "Not... It's... complicated..."

Gwen turned from Carrie, hands holding her ankles as she gave me a comforting look. "Go ahead, Tom."

It was a wonder how understanding Gwen was being. Carrie too. They hadn't cringed. Hadn't thrown insults. If they were disgusted by what my life had become and the things I'd told them, they weren't showing it. The idea that sharing this with my boss and coworker would get me fired had long since left my mind. Gwen had agreed with Carrie. Off the clock, you can do whatever you want.

I rolled my eyes. At this point, there was no reason to hold back. I'd confessed so much.

"It was... it's..." I let out a breath. How could I explain it? At least explain without sounding so utterly pathetic.

"So, the last time we had sex... or tried to..." My voice wavered.

Gwen got up from the bed, stepped over, and took my hand. "Would it help if maybe we opened up a little? It does seem kinda unfair that you're unloading all of this to us and we haven't really... well, given you a reason to trust us."

"Speak for yourself." Carrie smiled and let herself flop back on the bed. "We knocked boots. I think he can trust me at this point. Besides, I don't have anything illicit to confess. But I'm no gossip..."

"You bragged about sleeping with Tom the first chance you got," Gwen deadpanned.

"No, I did not." Carrie pushed herself up on her elbows. "You asked for the dirty details of why I was wearing the same clothes and I told you. But I wasn't going to go and yap at the coffee machine to any Karen or Ken about how Tom fucked my brains out."

My cheeks reddened. Did Carrie really feel that way? Had it really been that good? Well, I mean, I certainly had a good time. But I'd been slightly drunk, so had she...

Butterflies filled my stomach. I suddenly felt like I did on my honeymoon when Julie and I first made love. Worried about my performance. Wanting to please her. Make her happy. Afraid I might see a disappointed look on her face after... but she'd been smiling and kissing and loving.

Was all that an act? Had she been lying our whole marriage? The way she responded to Devon. Screamed. Came. Cried. She'd never been like that with me. Not even at our rowdiest.

I thought back to last night. Carrie's face twisted in pleasure. I wasn't sure how many times she'd cum, but I was sure it had been at least once. The memory was a little fuzzy. Damn alcohol. Clearly, she'd had a good time. Why was that so hard for me to believe?

Fuck. How screwed up am I if I can't believe that I'm not good in bed? I'd been good before Devon. Right?

Ahhh! I scrubbed my face in my hands, trying to dispel the doubts and insecurities that my wife and Devon had somehow pounded into me. Ironically, while pounding Julie. Pounding my wife and, in turn, pounding self doubt deep into my brain.

Gwen sighed and turned back to me. "Would it help, Tom? If Carrie won't share, I can. Then you don't have to feel alone in this."

"Share what?" I asked, genuinely curious as to what she could be talking about. I'm sure most everyone has embarrassing stories in their lives. But her getting a period during class or something like that was definitely not going to compare with me being...

"I've done porn." Gwen said.

I slipped off the dresser and fell to the floor.

-- --

Julie had actually humiliated her husband. The realization as she slipped into her lucid dreams made her shudder. It was all supposed to be part of the game. Part of the experience. Humiliation. Teasing. All of it was part of the erotic titillating adventure. Maybe they'd gone a little overboard? Sure, it was easy to get carried away. Sex with Devon had a way of intoxicating her. Impairing her judgement. Any rules or boundaries she and Tom had set seemed to get bulldozed, blown apart, when she was with him. She wanted it too much. Needed what it seemed only Devon could give her and the idea of holding back seemed... wrong. In fact, she remembered feeling frustrated with Tom at the very idea that he would put boundaries around her, fencing her sexuality in.

Was she lying when she promised Tom she'd respect the limits they set? She didn't think so... not lying... but maybe somewhere deep down she knew that whatever promises they made didn't matter. Devon was going to do what he wanted with her, and that's exactly what Julie wanted him to do. Tom didn't own her. Besides, he seemed to like it. He always got so hard watching. Seeing her break those promises. It was part of their game. Part of this alternative lifestyle they were diving into. And he never stopped her. Never told Devon to stop. Clearly, he was okay with it.

At least... that's what she had convinced herself of.

She should have seen the warnings... The signs... but she was too obsessed with her own desires. Euphoria had clouded her vision. She'd lost herself. Part of her had fallen in love with Devon. What he could do to her and for her. And when you're unprepared to love two people at the same time, the only result is chaos.

The first real warning sign was so glaringly loud that Julie, now laying on the bathroom floor, fitfully sleeping and dreaming of the memory, should have done something. Should have stopped. Should have comforted Tom. But she hadn't.

Julie had been insisting that Tom join the fun. Mostly because she wanted more than one cock to play with. Devon had introduced her to that. Two cocks all for her. She hadn't told Tom about that. Maybe she should. But she didn't want to think about all the things she was hiding from him. Secrets of threesomes. Of sexual encounters that he probably never would have agreed to, and she'd have been deprived of the experience. She didn't want to stop.

Tonight, she was on her side on the couch. Whatever lingerie she'd had was discarded, vanished somewhere in the living room. Tom was between her legs, kneeling on the couch, thrusting and grunting with determination. The look on his face was concentrated, pinched with frustration that Julie didn't understand. His cock felt good inside her. Her lips were gripping him so tightly. Of course, it wasn't anywhere near the stretch or grip she had on Devon when he put his massive dick inside her. But Tom was... he was the right size. Because he wasn't as big, he could move and position in ways that Devon couldn't. And not just because Devon was fairly heavyset with a belly that rivaled some pregnant women. Tom had skill.

He was holding her legs open, hands under her knees, thrusting deep, his balls slapping her ass, making her gasp softly. With Devon, she screamed. With Tom, it was like a soft, satisfied purr. Eyes closed, she lay on the cushions, letting her husband grip her, gliding in and out. His dick rubbing gently inside her, tantalizing and teasing the places that Devon constantly, brutally assaulted. It was a pleasant change. Her breaths came out lingering and gentle.

Tom thrust a bit harder, making her thighs slap and her breaths hitch. When she slit her eyes open to look at her husband, she saw strain on his face. Like he was trying. Trying? Since when had Tom had to try to fuck her? Hed always been good. Sure, Devon was a whole different level, but that didn't mean she didn't like this.

Julie had no control over the memory. She was reliving it and also viewing it from the outside. Now she saw... she saw the despair on Tom's face. In his posture. His thrusts. He wanted her to moan like she did with Devon. To scream. It's why he was thrusting so hard. His hands moved from her legs to push down one on her chest, one on her hip to give him better leverage and sank deeper into her.

She remembered the feeling. It was delicious. So good. He was pushing inside her. Her hands were reaching for him, gripping his hair and she was going to look at him, whisper she loved him...

Then Devon's dick was there. He'd gone to get some water and was back, sneering at Tom as he was fucking his wife. His cock was semi hard and easily twice the size of Tom's. Julie's breath caught as the rotund man stepped up and smacked her lips with the head of his cock.

"I think your mouth needs something to do." He said. Julie's hands dropped and immediately went to his cock, circling it and stroking it as he grabbed hold of her hair and guided her mouth to him.

She took him in eagerly. All thoughts of Tom were forgotten. Even the pleasure she was getting from him inside her. It all slipped into the back of her mind as she sucked Devon's tip, licking around the mushroom and kissing down the shaft.

"Yeah... that's it. Worship a more worthy cock."

Tom grunted in protest, but didn't say anything.

Julie groaned as she ran her tongue all along Devon's length, down to his balls that were kinky with hair that tickled and scratched at her lips and nose as she took one into her mouth and then the other, sucking with loud, slick pops. The man groaned with satisfaction as Julie gave it her all, licking and kissing and nibbling and sucking his skin.

Tom's thrusts were slowing.

"Take it in. Swallow it." Devon ordered softly. Julie didn't hesitate. Mouth open and lips sliding over him, she swallowed inch after inch into her mouth and throat, looking up at her lover forgetting that her husband was even fucking her.

Julie watched from behind the veil of memory, screaming at herself to pay attention to her husband. That this wasn't supposed to be... not like this... what was it supposed to be? How had she lost the plot? What happened? How could she have forgotten Tom?

The echoes of the words she'd thrown at him before he left filled the air as she watched the memory. A demonic soundtrack seeping into her brain as it all mixed together.

Devon fucks me better than you!

She was swallowing Devon's cock and pressing her nose into his pubic hair. Tom was slowing. His thrusts less and less with each glug glug glug emanated from her throat.

He makes me cum! He prioritizes my pleasure...

Her husband was panting. Teeth clenched. A pained look on his face. Not physical pain, but... emotional. Was he almost in tears?

Don't be such a sissy!

Julie never even noticed that Tom had gone limp. He pulled out, cock deflated and slick with Julie's juices. She was preoccupied getting her throat fucked.

"That's it Julie. Good girl. Fucking swallow it all."

She moaned around him eagerly, legs closing. Tom got pushed towards the other end of the couch as he sat, defeated.

Devon pulled out from her mouth, slick strings of spit dripping from him to her lips and chest as she gasped for breath. Without a word and a cruel, arrogant smile, he moved down the couch. Julie watched him and her legs opened on their own. Naturally. It was then she realized that Tom was sitting at the edge of the couch watching her with a strange, blank look.

"Tom?" she started, but Devon eclipsed her view. He moved between them, taking hold of her ankles and positioning himself between her legs with his heavy cock smacking down on her pussy.

"Don't worry about him. This is what he wants. Isn't it Tommy Boy? Hm?" As if to be polite, even charitable, Devon put one leg up and the other on the floor so that there was a clear gap that Tom could see between his thighs to his wife. Her legs wide open and pussy slick and puffy and ready as he aimed his cock towards her.

Tom caught sight of Julie's face. Her eyes. She met his gaze with a hungry, vicious desire as Devon's cock descended, piercing her folds open and invading her tight tunnel.

"Ohhhh goooood!" Julie moaned, watching the man stretching her to her limit. Eyes only briefly looking back to her husband before their view of each other was severed by Devon's dangling balls.

Tom watched his wife's slick pussy swallow Devon inch by steady inch. She thought she'd see him get hard. Instead, her husband's cock simply stayed small, limp, useless.

I like Devon fucking me...

Maybe I do... love Devon...

Her lover began fucking her. She was screaming. Gasping and panting and moaning loudly and without restraint. Tom got up and was walking away, cock limply swinging.

"T... Tom!" she called out as Devon grunted, sinking every inch into her and his balls slapped her ass hard. "W... wait..." It was so good. So amazing. Her orgasm was rushing towards her. "It's... okay... It happens..." Some part of her knew that something was wrong. He'd never gone limp before during sex, at least not unless he was sick. Was he not feeling well? Did they need to stop?

Devon grabbed her chin and made her look at him. "Look at me. Fuck him. You feel that?" He rammed deep and Julie arched, eyes wide, gasping.

"FUCK YES!"

Tom vanished. After that night, she didn't have sex with him again. Devon convinced her that it's what Tom wanted. That he wanted to see her pleased. To be teased and humiliated because that's what got him hard.

Julie believed it. Why wouldn't she? It's how things had been working. How they had been developing. And Tom didn't talk to her. Didn't tell her what was wrong. So... she thought things were okay. Thought it was going exactly how it was supposed to. But now she remembered the look of utter humiliation when he walked out of the room. He'd gone limp. Soft. He'd failed to fuck her to orgasm. Had that ever happened before now?

She'd let him leave... just like she'd let him leave the house after she'd humiliated him again. Fucking Devon when she thought he was with another woman. Throwing insults in his face when he was in pain. He may have been just as petty as she was, but throwing disparaging remarks at each other like petty children wasn't the answer.

You should have seen it, you selfish bitch! You should have seen your husband was in distress. You never went to him. When Devon was done, when he came in you, you didn't go to him. There was no aftercare! Don't you remember reading about that? After tearing someone down, you had to check on them and make sure everything was okay. But you didn't! You didn't! You forgot your husband, and you humiliated him and made him think you didn't care!

Julie woke up on the cold bathroom floor. She pushed herself up and leaned back against the tub as she rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Emotions were raging inside her like a bitter hurricane, throwing everything that wasn't bolted down into the air.

She knew she'd hurt Tom. But she liked what they were doing. But somewhere along the line it had stopped being a fantasy they shared to a singulare want, deep down in her belly. Julie was hungry for sex. Hungry for Devon and men like him. For the experiences she'd gotten.

And you hid those from your husband. You're not innocent in this.

Another sudden wave of nausea washed over Julie as she brought her knees up and put her forehead on her knees, breathing slow. Everything was such a mess. She had to fix it. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, she saw it was well past eleven. Tom was probably asleep. She should be too. All this stress and worry was making her sick. She needed a clear head. Getting up slowly and carefully, she washed out her mouth and shuffled to bed.

Just like the house... it felt empty. She lay on her side on top of the covers and stared at the cool side where Tom should have been and reached out, putting her hand against the blank space, closed her eyes and imagined her hand was on her husband's chest. Feeling his rhythmic breathing.

She let the thought ease her into sleep.

-- --

Gwen's confidence was shot. Nearly six months of lawyer meetings and phone calls and paperwork and threats and arguing and finally, finally, her divorce was finalized. And after all the T's had been crossed and the I's dotted, she'd been exhausted. The whole time she'd been going through the process, she'd had to take care of Danny, to balance her work and home, all while her soon to be ex-husband was fucking his secretary.

He was getting laid while Gwen was left high and dry. Literally. She was on edge sexually as well as emotionally.

With the divorce finalized, she could finally relax. Especially since she'd won a sizable amount of money from the agreement. It freed her up. Truth be told, if she had just wanted to stay at home, she could have. The money was significant and invested properly; she'd be set for life as long as she didn't live extravagantly. But she wanted to work. She wanted to be busy...

And so that's all she did. For five long years, she worked and worked and worked. No dates. No sex beyond her own stimulation that never left her fully satisfied. But she endured. She built her career. She raised her son. She was successful. But she wasn't fulfilled.

A lot can happen in five years. And having been married for several years before that, the last time she went on a date, things were different. The dating landscape had shifted from meeting people at a bar or a coffee shop to swiping right or left on someone after a few seconds of looking at a photo and about 256 characters to describe your entire personality. Meeting someone on an app just seemed... impossible. She wasn't old, but she wasn't young either. People seemed to move very fast and what she wanted was slow. She wanted connection.

She also wanted to get fucked.

But after so long and being cheated on... her confidence was gone. She didn't feel sexy. Objectively, she knew she was attractive, but it didn't feel like anyone saw that. They just saw the business woman. The mom. The divorcee.

She wanted to be seen as a woman.

It was over coffee with a friend, confessing all of these insecurities and generally gossiping and complaining about her first world problems, that the suggestion of a certain club came up.

"A sex club?" Gwen muttered, gently swirling her nearly empty glass of red wine, looking over at her friend Ivy.

She was a tall woman, dark brunette waves framing her face, sweet rosy cheeks and a cute smile. She could have been mistaken for the girl next door, but beneath that lovely exterior, Ivy was poisonous. Not viciously, but she wasn't a woman to be trifled with. Married young, Ivy had helped her late husband rise to very high standing in an investment firm. They made all the right trades. All the right gambles. They became very wealthy, very quickly. And then, Ethan, her husband, had a cardiac event brought on by stress. He slipped into a coma for several months and then passed away. Ivy was heartbroken, but resilient. She had her hands in several ventures, some more public than others. But the last thing Gwen would have thought Ivy was involved in was a sex club.

"Don't look so surprised." Ivy's lips curled. "When Ethan was alive, we were quite the adventurous couple. We had very healthy sexual appetites." She was tracing a finger along the lip of her wineglass as she waited for the waiter to come give her a refill.

Gwen blushed. "Well... be that as it may, I'm not a swinger. Or... I don't know, aren't those places like... for perverts?"

Ivy's laugh was sweet. "Dear, of course they are. But the sort of perversion can vary a great deal depending on the club. Yes, there are the specific kinds, the ones catering to kinks and taboos. Others are just like you said, more swinging and swapping. Club Sway is... different..."

It was the way Ivy trailed off. The look in her dark brown eyes, like rich earth hiding something deep beneath. How her voice lilted and was soft and smooth. Gwen got the chills. It didn't take much convincing to get Gwen to go.

The check-in process was strange. Going into the private room to change, the eye mask she'd been given at the door tight against her nose and eyes made her feel like some sort of superhero, jumping into a hiding place to change their identity. And in a way, that was true. She was required to choose an alias, and all she'd been able to think of was... Stacy. As in Gwen Stacy. Spider-Woman. It was wholly unoriginal, but Gwen wasn't very good at coming up with names.

She came in plain jeans and a t-shirt, but in the room's locker, she'd been provided a new outfit to wear in the club proper. It was a deep purple corset with pearl buttons up the front. The corset was cupless, meaning when she slipped it on and buttoned it up, her breasts were on full display, nipples hard in the cool air of the booth. A pair of sheer thin purple cheeky panties, and shiny purple stockings were all that accompanied the corset. The panties were so thin and sheer, like cheese cloth or tissue paper. They left nothing to the imagination. When she slipped them on, they pulled tight against her pussy, making her wish she'd shaved or at least trimmed. She wasn't wild down there, but it had been a while since she'd done any sort of landscaping.

Gwen slipped the outfit on, feeling... slutty, but somehow classy at the same time. Ivy had told her everyone would be dressed similarly. Lingerie that revealed and showed off the assets of the attendees. No one would judge her. They were all there for the same reasons. And no, it wasn't to just have sex and explore kinks.

"That's not what Sway is about, sweety." Ivy explained. "It's about reclaiming your power. Your confidence. Grabbing hold of your desire with no shame and holding it up, if for no one else but yourself and declaring that it's what you want, and no one is going to stop you from having it." They were drinking the last bit of wine from their glasses and Ivy was leaning in close, eyes burning. "Tristan stole that from you. Stole your sexual power when he cheated. You put him in his place by divorcing him and winning all that money, but honey, he still put his dick in another chick. I can tell how that makes you feel. Like you're inadequate. Not enough. Maybe you were never enough, and that's why he was compelled to cheat. But I'm here to tell you that it's the other way around. He wasn't enough for you and he knew it. So he cheated, tried to make you feel small. That dick tried to take away your spirit. Sway is about getting it back."

After a few calming breaths, Gwen slipped from the booth and down the hall to the main room of the club...

-- --

"I honestly can't believe I'm doing this." Carrie leaned back against the headrest of the bed, legs out in front of her, crossed at the ankles and arms folded under her breasts.

Tom and Gwen were sitting on the end of the bed as Gwen tapped at her phone, setting up to cast to the television. Gwen looked back at Carrie. "You are the one that asked to see it."

Carrie rolled her eyes. "Only because Tom said he'd seen it..."

"Can we not mention the fact that I admitted to watching porn?" Tom muttered, massaging his forehead like a headache was coming on.

"Tom. Come on. Pretty much everyone does to some degree. It just depends on how much and what kind. I think the bigger deal is that somehow the universe guided you to a porn video of your boss." Carrie chuckled.

Gwen gave her a scowl.

"Hey, hey! No judgement here. Seriously. I don't think there's anything wrong with it. I'm sure I'm featured in a few videos that might be floating around in that vast spider web of ones and zeros." Carrie sighed and slumped down. "And yeah, I'd like to see this infamous video... is it the only one, by the way?"

The television screen brightened and showed a room decorated in red and black with garish wallpaper that looked like vines and intricate designs, like something out of an old Victorian horror movie. A large bed was in the middle of the room with silk sheets. For a second nothing happened and then Gwen stepped into frame. The camera focused on her back as she walked towards the bed. Her ass bouncing in the sheer little panties, hair swaying in a ponytail.

"Yes. It's the only one. Ivy convinced me to do it as a sort of liberating exercise. Sex is always kept so private and hidden that it becomes this sort of boogeyman haunting you. Allowing a camera to capture you and to broadcast your sexuality to the world is a way of shoving off that oppression."

"You're still wearing a mask." Carrie pointed out, picking at a piece of lint on her shirt.

"Well... there's something to be said for privacy and safety, too." Gwen shrugged.

On screen, a man entered the frame and walked towards Gwen, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, much like she was now. He was naked. His half flaccid cock swinging as he came to stand in front of her. In a sort of funny moment, he held out his hand with a grin, his face covered by a mask just like Gwen. They shook and quietly introduced themselves. The man went by Barron. Gwen introduced herself as Stacy. That made Carrie snort.

Gwen reached back and smacked Carrie's leg.

Things progressed quickly in the video. Within moments, Gwen was swallowing the man's cock. At first she looked timid and unsure, going slow. But she began to heat up fast, moving back and forth, up and down eagerly as she tasted him.

Gwen leaned back on her hands, one close to Tom's as he did the same, watching the screen as if they were just watching a movie or a TV show and not porn. Carrie noticed their fingers touch. She raised an eyebrow at that.

"It was my first cock in like... geez, I think almost six years? Something like that? It all kinda blurs together, really." Gwen said.

Tom looked back at Carrie. "And you were giving me grief for not having sex for a month?"

Carrie rolled her eyes. "Girls are like camels, Tommy. We can go a pretty long time. You boys are like water balloons. Those dangly bits between your legs get full and they feel like they are going to burst if you don't get a squirt off."

Gwen burst out laughing, falling back onto the bed.

"Did you ever grow up past highschool?" Tom asked, trying to suppress a smile. "Besides, how would you know what it's like to have blue balls?"

"I don't. Just had a boyfriend once that... Well, he liked getting edged. Blue balls were his kink or whatever. Didn't really do much for me. Not why we broke up, I'm not that shallow, but it wasn't very satisfying for me obviously."

Tom let out a breath. "Guess I'm not the only one with some weird kinks, huh?" He muttered it, trying to sound casual, but it was clear it was a relief.

"Tommy... come on. You can't seriously think you're alone in this." Carrie sat forward, moving to slide down next to him. "Everyone's got something. Some more than others. Cuckolding isn't all that uncommon. It's a spectrum. Lots of relationships indulge in it in some way or another.." She patted his thigh. Comforting people wasn't her strong suit. She'd much rather make some sort of lewd joke or sarcastic remark, but Tom didn't need that just now.

Gwen sat back up, whipping away a tear from her eye as she calmed down from her laughing fit. "She's right. Hotwifing. Swinging. Cuckolding. Those really are just umbrella terms at this point." She put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

On screen, Gwen was getting pushed back onto the bed and the man was crawling up between her legs. She was panting like a dog in heat, legs wide. "Please... please, I fucking need it..."

Tom flushed and chuckled. "Someone was needy."

Gwen smacked his shoulder, but didn't move her hand away. "Years, Tom. Years! I needed it and that guy was willing. So don't judge." There wasn't any heat behind her words. She was grinning.

Carrie leaned forward to look at Gwen. "Still. You always beg like that?" Her grin was mischievous and wide.

"Only if I'm made to," Gwen laughed.

"Oh, so you're a sub?"

"No! Well... no. I mean, it just kinda depends on the people and the dynamic."

"People?" Carrie raised an eyebrow. Her hand was still on Tom's thigh, squeezing a little.

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Sexual liberation dear. I've done a lot. But the main thing is... I was a wreck after my divorce. I felt worthless. In a way my husband had cucked me. Taken away my confidence and agency. I had to get it back." She turned to the screen that was focusing on her panties getting pulled down, revealing her lightly hairy pussy, puffy with need and arousal. "This was just the first time. After this, I went back several times for... lessons."

Carrie snorted and bit her lip. "Oh my. I've got to hear this." She leaned a bit closer to Tom, hand squeezing his thigh tighter. Glancing at him, she saw his cheeks were warming, eyes trying to find a place to rest but unable to find a stopping point.

"It's not so scandalous. Like I said, I felt worthless. We focused on that. We did some roleplay. Though Tristan had never verbally humiliated me or anything, my mind had filled in those blanks. Populated the spaces with demeaning words and things. So my lessons were... well, I guess it's kinda unconventional, but I was dominated in a way. Demeaned. And I had to learn to stand up for myself." Gwen's hand moved from Tom's shoulder down along his bicep.

Carrie saw Gwen's eyebrow twitch. Was she surprised that he had some muscle to him? She certainly had been when they'd been having sex last night. He was able to hold her exactly how he wanted, though Carrie could have easily kicked Tom's ass if she'd wanted to. But she had wanted him just as much as he'd needed his release. What could she say? Tom was attractive, and she liked sex. Win-win.

Tom got a far off look for a moment as he sat between the women. The sounds of Gwen's moans on the television filled the silence. Fuck yes. Oh god you're big! Oh, holy shit, please fuck me! Right there. THERE!

If hearing herself having sex on television was bothering Gwen, she didn't show it. Her hand was on Tom's bicep, touching his skin softly. Carrie kept her hand on his thigh, squeezing, moving it up a little higher. She could feel heat and hardness. She already knew what Tom was packing and honestly, she wanted to see it again. Last night had been fun, but she'd been a bit fuzzy and it all happened so fast she hadn't really gotten much chance to just enjoy.

Carrie's eyes met Gwen's. She could read the look in Gwen's green eyes. Her cheeks were flushed slightly. Their eyes darted to the television. Seeing Gwen squatting down over Barron, letting his cock slowly slip inside her. The cries from the speakers echoing in the room.

Something passed between Gwen and Carrie. Unspoken commitment. Concern. A genuine desire to help Tom. He'd confessed something so private and deep, how could they not appreciate his bravery for allowing himself to be vulnerable? Especially about something as delicate as his sex life and marriage.

Tom's eyes were transfixed on the screen, but Carrie could tell he wasn't really watching it. He wasn't seeing Gwen's ass slapping the man's thighs. Pussy stretching around him as she moaned and cursed in pleasure. What was he thinking? The look on his face was far away, lost, as if he were searching for something and just couldn't find it.

Carrie moved her hand further up and finally rested it between Tom's legs, right over his growing erection. The feeling made Tom stiffen in more ways than one and he was broken from his trance, looking at Carrie, confused. She just grinned at him mischievously.

"Tom..." Gwen moved a bit closer. "I think we can help you." She rubbed her hand up his arm and under the sleeve of his shirt, her gaze traveling up to meet his. "That is..." Her smile twisted wickedly, "If you think you're man enough..."