Ellie Takes Control

Ellie thought she had seen it all until the Hendersons came to stay at the Manor Hotel. Now 23, she had worked there on and off since she was 18, first during her gap year and then during the vacations of her three-year university course in History of Art. Then, finding it difficult to find a graduate job, she had been there full-time again for the last year. She had much bigger ambitions, but it would do for now.

It was a small hotel created, as its name suggested, from a former manor house and located in the English Cotswolds. It was luxurious and refined, an elegant hideaway for the rich people who lived in the area or who travelled from London to enjoy it. Its small size meant that the staff were expected to rotate between different jobs, so that Ellie sometimes worked at reception, sometimes served at the small bar and restaurant, and sometimes cleaned and prepared the bedrooms and suites.

During the five years she had worked there, Ellie had seen guests who were obviously having an affair, and using the hotel as a discreet place to meet. She had been propositioned by male guests and, occasionally, female ones. Once or twice she had even accepted the offers. She had delivered a room service meal to find a man masturbating. On that occasion, rather than respond with the shock he might have expected she casually walked over to him, and with a few strokes of her hand brought him to orgasm. Another time, she had arrived to clean a bedroom and found a woman naked and handcuffed to the bed. That had required the hotel manager to call a locksmith, and caused considerable embarrassment all round, though Ellie had merely been amused. So she had good reason to think that she had seen it all.

When the Hendersons arrived there seemed nothing unusual about them. Ellie was at reception to welcome them and check them in. Like all guests at the Manor they were well-to-do, and that was confirmed by their reservation of the largest suite, the Mercedes coupe they had arrived in, and the quality of their clothes. Mr Henderson wore a classic, evidently expensive, Prince of Wales check suit and Mrs Henderson had the kind of elegantly simple blue summer dress that Ellie knew cost a great deal of money.

It was true that, as they checked in and Ellie leant forward over the computer, she noticed Mr Henderson looking down the front of her uniform dress, but there was nothing unusual in that from the male guests. If anything it was the norm. And Ellie didn't mind if they got a glimpse of the cleavage of her firm young 36C breasts or the lacy bra that framed it, especially if, as was often the case, it led to them paying her generous tips during their visit.

She knew she was attractive. Her slightly brown skin, almond brown eyes and brown-black hair, the legacy of her Moroccan grandmother, gave her a slightly exotic look which, combined with the genes which gave her a near perfect hour-glass figure, made sure that men noticed her. She had certainly had no shortage of boyfriends over the years. And when at work, the neat mint green dress she was required to wear was a perfect complement to her colouring, and was well-enough tailored to do justice to the curves of her body. Despite her demure appearance, she knew very well that she exuded an aura of sex.

So it was no surprise to her at all that Mr Henderson had taken the opportunity to look at her boobs, even though his wife was, herself, a striking-looking woman, albeit in a different way to Ellie. Mrs Henderson, who seemed to be in her late thirties, was what Ellie had heard described as an 'English Rose'. That is, she was tall, slim and willowy, with blond hair, well-cut to shoulder length, bright blue eyes, bright white teeth, and pink lips, to which lipstick added a deeper, darker pinkness. She was in good shape for her age, too, Ellie noticed, a tribute perhaps to the discipline of regular gym sessions.

As for Mr Henderson, he was a few years older, perhaps in his early forties, and good-looking too, in his way, and also in good shape. Slightly grey-haired, distinguished rather than handsome, Ellie thought, and polite in his manner to her and to his wife, despite that snatched look at Ellie's cleavage. Just two more ordinary guests, then, Ellie thought that afternoon as she checked in Sarah and Adam Henderson -- she now knew their names, as well as the fact that they lived in Kew, in West London - and she barely glanced as they made their way to their suite on the first floor.

It was only a few hours later that she began to realize otherwise, although it took a while to start to unfold. By then, it was about 6pm and Ellie had handed over reception to her colleague, Hazel, and was now working behind the bar. At that moment it was empty, but then Mr Henderson came in, on his own, and ordered an Irish malt whiskey. He exchanged some small talk with her, just pleasantries, although she noticed his eyes flicker lasciviously over her body and she had the impression that he was slightly nervous. At the time, she wrongly, though not unreasonably, put that down to him trying to work up the courage to flirt with her. But, if so, he lost his nerve, as instead of staying at the bar he went and sat at a table in the corner of the room, where he sipped his drink and read a newspaper.

About twenty minutes later, Mrs Henderson entered the bar and ordered a Finnish vodka and tonic but, once Ellie had served her, she did not join her husband but stayed at the bar, sitting on a stool. She had changed since the afternoon, and now wore a different dress, equally elegant but of a different style, a sleeveless black cocktail dress. Her hair was also pinned behind her ears, and her lipstick was red, rather than pink, and her fingernails were pained a matching colour. As well as the wedding and engagement rings on her finger, she wore a string of pearls around her neck and small pearl earrings. Ellie noticed these kinds of things, since clothes, hair, jewelry and make-up interested her greatly, and the kinds of clothes that Mrs Henderson wore were the sort of thing which Ellie, herself, would buy if she could afford them.

Having ordered her drink, Mrs Henderson didn't make any conversation with Ellie and, in any case, two other guests came in and wanted drinks. They were a young married couple who had come to stay every month for the last few months. Ellie knew, because the woman had told her in a confidential chat the last time they were there, that they were trying for a baby, and came every month, at her fertile time, to give a bit of romance to their efforts. She smiled a friendly, conspiratorial smile to the woman, who was about her own age, and served them their drinks. They also move to a table where they sat, having eyes only for each other.

Then at 6.30 another man came in. He was tall, quite rugged in appearance, and exuded an air of confidence. Ellie hadn't seen him before, and he wasn't staying at the hotel, but he clearly knew Mrs Henderson because he came straight to her, giving her a kiss. Ellie was surprised because, although it was a perfectly respectable kiss -- not a full-blown snog -- it was unmistakably more than a friendly one. It was the kiss a husband might give a wife, and yet he was not her husband, whilst Mr Henderson, who was, was sitting quietly just a few yards away.

Even more surprisingly, after the man had asked for a glass of Malbec and another V&T -- as well as offering a drink to Ellie, which she took as money - he sat on the stool next to Mrs Henderson and proceeded to have an intimate, evidently flirtatious, conversation with her. Their voices were too low for Ellie to catch more than the occasional word, but there was no doubt that that was what it was, and, had there been any doubt, it was dispelled by the way Mrs Henderson laughed, touched the man's forearm, bit her lower lip, and played with her hair. She was almost wriggling with desire. Ellie had flirted with too many men herself to mistake the signs. Yet Mr Henderson was, apparently, oblivious.

He was not, however, oblivious when, about twenty minutes later, Mrs Henderson and the unknown man stood up and walked slowly out of the room, towards the staircase. On the contrary, Ellie saw that he was watching them intently and that he, like Ellie from behind the bar, could see them start to walk up the staircase before disappearing from view. She wondered if she knew, as she did, having observed it when Mrs Henderson got off the bar stool, that his wife's long elegant legs were clad in stockings.

Ellie, who was very far from naïve, half-wondered if Mr Henderson would now follow, whether to join in a threesome or just to watch. Instead, he came to the bar and ordered another Irish malt. He didn't exchange small talk this time, and returned to his table. Shortly afterwards, his phone pinged, and Ellie saw him looking intently at its screen. Half an hour passed, during which, whilst serving the small number of other customers who came in, and seeing the young married couple through to the restaurant, Ellie kept half an eye on Mr Henderson but observed nothing beyond him sitting impassively, taking occasional sips of his drink. But then his phone pinged again and immediately after having looked at the screen he came to the bar.

"Would you be able to take a bottle of chilled champagne up to our suite?" he asked, blushing furiously.

Ellie was momentarily lost for words.

"Of course, sir," she said, eventually, striving for a professional tone. "Which champagne would you like?"

"I think my wife would like the Vintage Krug," he muttered after consulting the list.

"And how many glasses will that be?" Ellie forced herself to ask.

"Er, two, please, she'll need two," he answered, by now bright crimson.

"I'll see she gets it straight away," Ellie assured him.

He thanked her, and returned to his table. Ellie bustled around finding the Krug and an ice bucket, and putting them on a tray with a cloth and two champagne flutes. She ascended the stairs and knocked on the door of the Hendersons' suite.

"Come in," a man's voice called.

Ellie went in, not quite knowing, though half-guessing, what she would find. She was right. The man, evidently naked, was lying in bed, his chest visible above the duvet. Mrs Henderson was standing by the window, looking outwards, wearing only a black slip which contrasted sharply with the creamy white of her skin. She turned, and Ellie could see her small, firm breasts through the almost translucent silk of the slip, and the hard points of her pink nipples sticking through. Further down, the outline of the triangle of her pubic hair was also discernible.

"Just leave it on the table," Mrs Henderson said.

Ellie obeyed and began to leave.

"Just a minute," Mrs Henderson said, and came over to the table. She glanced at the champagne.

"Vintage Krug, how generous," she remarked, glancing over that the man in the bed with a smirk. "Ellie -- it is Ellie, isn't it? -- yes, I noticed it on your name badge earlier - would you please say thank you to my husband? From both of us. Don't forget, will you? Thank him from both of us."

Ellie promised that she would do as she had been asked and left the room. As she did so, she heard Mrs Henderson and the man laughing, and saw that Mrs Henderson was beginning to shrug the thin straps of her black slip off her shoulders as she moved towards the bed.

Ellie returned to the bar and, hesitantly, approached Mr Henderson's table.

"I delivered the champagne, sir," she told him. "And, well, your wife told me to tell you 'Thank you from both of us'."

His face crumpled, and he let out a kind of anguished gasp. Fortunately, there was no one in the bar to hear.

"I'm -- I'm sorry, sir," Ellie said. "But she insisted I tell you, so I had no choice."

"It's not your fault. It's mine. Or Sarah's. I should be apologising to you."

"There's no need," Ellie said. "Look, I can see that you're upset and, well, I don't want to intrude but my shift is finishing now and I'm a good listener, if you need to talk."

Mr Henderson almost sobbed.

"It might do you good to talk," Ellie said. "I can see you are upset, and I can understand why. And, after all, I'm a complete stranger. It doesn't really matter what you tell me, does it?"

"I'd like that, I think," he said. "Will you sit down with me for a while?"

"Sure," said Ellie. "But not here, it's too public. Just wait a minute whilst I get my colleague to take over at the bar. Then come to my room. I live in, you see. It's on the top floor, directly opposite the top of the staircase."

"But my wife?" he said.

"I don't want to sound cruel, but I have the impression that your wife is going to be busy for a while yet," Ellie said quietly.

He nodded, and she left him, made sure that her replacement had arrived for her shift, and went to her room. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door and she opened it.

"Come in, Mr Henderson," she said. "It's not very big, I'm afraid. One of the servant's rooms when it was a house, I think. But it comes rent-free with the job. So why don't you sit yourself down in the armchair? I've got a bottle of cognac, if you'd like a glass. I'm having one, now that I'm off duty."

He declined the drink, but accepted the invitation to sit down, and as he did so he suggested she call him Adam, rather than Mr Henderson.

"Alright, then, Adam," Ellie said, perching on the edge of her bed, and facing him, a glass of cognac in her hand. "Why don't you tell me all about it?"

"God, I don't know, Ellie -- is it ok to call you Ellie?"

"Of course."

"Well, I don't know, Ellie. I'm not sure you'd understand. I mean, you're so young ..."

"I'm 23, Adam, and, yes, that is quite young. But you'd be surprised what I understand. For a start, you're a cuckold, aren't you? Mrs Henderson is cuckolding you, am I right? I mean, she isn't just cheating on you, but she is doing so with your knowledge."

Adam stared at her.

"How on earth do you know that?"

"Well, I've got eyes, haven't I? I've seen it for myself, this evening. But it's not just that. I did History of Art at university, and one of the modules was on art and sexuality which included a lecture on 'kink sexualities', so I know a little bit about it."

Ellie didn't feel it necessary to mention that, after that lecture, she had approached the tutor with some questions. That was the beginning of what became a tempestuous relationship during which Ellie had learnt, first, to be submissive to a man and then what it meant to be a switch, and to dominate and humiliate him. It had been during her second year at university, when she had been 20, and the relationship had only lasted a few months but it had transformed her life.

"I'm astonished," Adam said, though he wasn't as astonished as he would have been if he had known that story. "Well, yes, of course you are right. But it isn't like the kind of thing you might have read about, where the husband asks his wife to fulfil his fantasies. It's the real thing. She takes lovers, or, often, not even lovers, just pick-ups, because, well, because ... oh, you wouldn't understand."

"You said that before, but I did understand, didn't I? So why not try me?

"OK, well it is because I can't satisfy her sexually. Because ... because my penis is too small," Adam muttered, painfully embarrassed.

"Is it really? Or is that just a kink? There's a thing called 'small penis humiliation', you know, but it doesn't necessarily mean the man is really too small."

"I -- well - I don't know. Sarah says it is too small for her, that's for sure," he said.

"Adam, would it help if I took a look? Maybe I could reassure you. I know you think that I am very young, but I've had more than my fair share of men, and I've seen a lot of, well, men's cocks. In real life, I mean, never mind about in works of art. It could be that Mrs Henderson is just, I don't know, finding excuses to be unfaithful?"

Adam looked unsure. It seemed to be a possibility he hadn't considered before.

"Well, it's up to you, of course," Ellie continued. "But that way you would know for sure and, since we're talking honestly, I did notice you eyeing me up earlier, so it's obvious that you see me as a woman, who is old enough to be perved over."

"Oh God, I know. I'm sorry. Sarah noticed me do that as well. That's why she texted me telling her to get you to send up the champagne. That was the second text. The first one said 'stop ogling that girl in the bar and look at this instead' and she sent a picture of her hand stroking that man's penis."

"I see. That must have been very painful for you. Well, maybe we'll come back to that. But, first, what about this idea she has given you that you aren't 'big enough'. Let's start with that, and then see if we can work out the rest of it. Are you going to show it to me now?"

Adam stood up and unzipped his trousers, pulling his penis from the fly for the young woman to inspect. It was semi-hard and wet with pre-cum, as it had been all evening. Ellie didn't say anything at first, except that she couldn't really see properly, and suggesting that he drop his trousers and underpants.

"It does seem quite small," Ellie said. "But to be fair it isn't fully hard yet. Lots of men get a lot bigger when they are erect. Maybe you just need some encouragement."

Saying this, Ellie, still sitting on the edge of her bed, slowly pulled her mint green dress up, to reveal the full length of her bare legs and, eventually her lacy panties, which, like the bra Adam had glimpsed earlier, were a matching mint green.

"Have a good look, Adam. No need for sneaky glances now. I'm giving you permission," she said. "Look at my legs, at my thighs, at the gusset of my panties. Look at the way my bush is straining against their gauzy fabric."

His cock twitched and grew a little, but still didn't seem to be fully erect.

"OK, let's try something else," Ellie said, reaching out to take his penis in her slim, cool fingers and working them up and down. Very quickly, he became fully erect and she took her hand away.

"Oops," Ellie said. "If I'd kept going for any longer I think you might have spurted, and I don't think Mrs Henderson would have liked that."

Ellie's tone seemed to have changed. Until then, she had sounded friendly, sympathetic, almost caring. Now, though, she seemed to be speaking with a mixture of teasing and dismissiveness. Adam waited for her verdict.

"Well, I have to admit that your wife is right. I mean, sorry, but it is very small, a lot smaller than average judging from my experience, and, well, I can't speak for all women, of course, but it certainly wouldn't be enough to satisfy me, either."

"So size does matter to women? I mean, people often say it doesn't, so I thought it might just be Sarah ..."

Ellie giggled.

"Oh, I think it does matter. Like I said, I can't speak for all women, but the women I know all say in private that it does. Personally, I expect at least eight inches from my boyfriends, and yours isn't even half that. I don't think I'm unusual. I need a cock that will really stretch me, open me up."

"That's what Sarah says," Adam admitted.

"I think she is right," Ellie said. "So things make more sense now. I can see why she needs other men, real men, I can see why she treats you with such disrespect. I mean, to be honest, I would do the same in her situation. It's hard to respect a man who doesn't have the means to satisfy a woman, you can see that, surely? Does she let you have sex with her at all?"

"Not for a long time," Adam confessed. "She, well, she gives me a hand job every so often."

"I wonder why she stays with you?" Ellie asked.

"Oh, that's easy," said Adam bitterly. "She stays for the same reason she married me. Because I'm rich. Rich and successful. So she can keep up with her friends and her family, and live the upper-middle class lifestyle she was born to, and expects her husband to provide."

"Well, I can understand that, too," Ellie said. "But what about you? Why do you stay with her?"

"Because I love her, I can't help it, but I do. I've loved her from the moment I met her. She is so beautiful, so elegant, so poised ... I don't know. I just love her, and I can't stop loving her. And also ..." Adam faltered.

"What were you going to say?"

"No, I can't, you wouldn't understand."

"We're not back to that, are we? It seems as if I understand pretty well, so far. So go on ..."

But Adam remained mute.

"Ok, then," said Ellie. "I'll say, and you can tell me if I'm wrong. You stay because as well as loving here, even as part of loving her, you enjoy being humiliated by her. You even enjoyed it today, when she humiliated you in front of me. Maybe you especially enjoyed that? Am I right?"

"Oh, God, yes, you're right. It's crazy. It makes me mad with jealousy, it hurts me, and yet it thrills me, it excites me beyond anything else I've ever experienced or can imagine. So now you know ..."

Adam tailed off as his phone pinged. He looked at it.

"It's Sarah," he said. "She says that her lover has left now, and she wants me to go to her. She says ... she says 'did that sexy little Ellie give you my message? I wish I could have seen your face when she told you. Did you get a hard on?' Sorry, Ellie."

"That's ok," Ellie said. "I am sexy, after all. And it looks as if I'm involved in all this now. So why don't I come down with you, and Sarah and I can have a good chat."

It wasn't a question, it was an instruction. Adam replace his clothes and Ellie stood up, pulling the hem of her dress back into place. Walking slightly ahead of him, they made their way downstairs to the suite where Sarah was waiting.

***

Without knocking, Ellie opened the door and went in, followed by Adam. Sarah Henderson was lying on the bed, wearing a bathrobe and with her hair still wet from the shower.

"What are you doing here?" she asked Ellie in astonishment.

"Well, it's like this, Mrs Henderson. After I delivered your message to Adam, we got talking, and he told me all about how you treat him ..."

"Oh, I know," interrupted Sarah. "Don't tell me. He had a good cry on your shoulder. He's done that before, with a couple of friends of mine, making me out to be a monster. So I suppose now you've come to give me a lecture. Well, frankly, I can't see it's any of your business."

"You made it my business, Mrs Henderson, when you used me to give your husband an extra little bit of humiliation. Isn't that true?"

"I suppose so," Sarah replied, feeling rebuked. "Even so ..."

"But you've got we wrong, anyway," Ellie continued. "I'm not here to lecture you. On the contrary. You see, I got your husband to show me his cock, if you can call it that, and I completely understand. I wouldn't be satisfied by that, either, and I told him so. I'm like you, like most women in fact, I need a big, thick, heavy cock in me. A real man, not a wimp. A man who can split me open, make me sob."

Sarah gasped with relief.

"You can't imagine how good it is to hear you say that, Ellie," she said. "I've never really had anyone to talk to about ... my needs and ... my marriage."

"Well, you can talk to me -- Sarah," Ellie said, using the older woman's first name for the first time. "And you can start by telling me what you'd usually do now. I mean, when Adam comes back to you."

"Do?" Sarah asked, puzzled. "I don't know what you mean. I just go to sleep. I'm not sure how much he has told you, but we don't have sex anymore."

"I know that, but I meant, for instance, don't you get him to lick your pussy out? Lots of cuckoldresses do."

"Oh, yuk, no," Sarah replied, blushing partly at the idea and partly at being described as a 'cuckoldress', a term she had scarcely heard before, though she understood what it meant. "My ... my pussy isn't for him anymore. I just have a shower to clean myself up afterwards."

"Fair enough, but do you tell him what you've been doing with your lover?"

Sarah looked puzzled again.

"But he knows that already," she said.

"Ah, but it's the detail I mean. I've seen the texts you sent him tonight, and of course I took the champagne to you and your message back to him. But wouldn't you like to really dig the humiliation in? I can help, if you like. I can curate his humiliation."

"Go on," Sarah replied, surprised by the younger woman's worldliness but very intrigued by it.

"The best thing would be for me to show you the kind of thing I mean."

Ellie began her curation, telling Adam to remove all his clothes and go into the sitting room of the suite. When he had left, she went over to his discarded clothes and removed the leather belt from his trousers. She told Sarah take off her bath robe and put on the silky black slip she had worn earlier. Ellie was still in her mint green uniform dress, but now carried the belt in her hand. Together, the two women entered the sitting room.

"Adam, kneel down and kiss your wife's feet," Ellie ordered.

He stared at her, not moving.

"I don't understand," he said. "You seemed so kind, so sympathetic earlier ..."

"That was before I saw your cock," Ellie said scornfully. "Surely you realised that? Now, listen and listen carefully. I'm going to give you orders and you are going to obey them. If you don't, then I am going to use this belt of yours to beat you. Now, imagine that. Imagine having a young woman, hardly more than half your age, beat you in front of your wife. So, I'll tell you again. Kneel down and kiss your wife's feet. Go on. Grovel before her beauty."

This time, Adam obeyed and, as he did so, Sarah gave a malicious giggle.

After a while, Ellie told him to kiss her shoes. She was still wearing the smart ivory-coloured shoes with a tiny heel which she wore for work, and she watched impassively as he crawled from Sarah over to Ellie to kiss them. As he went about his task, Ellie casually explained to Sarah that this was just to get him to show his respect and to make sure he understood his place.

After a while, Ellie indicated that Sarah should sit down on the settee. As Sarah did so, her black slip rode up to the top of her thighs, only just concealing her bare bush, and the neck of the slip hung a little forward, affording a glimpse of the creamy flesh of her small firm breasts and her hard pink nipples. Ellie told Adam to get up and stand in front of his wife.

Then, Ellie slowly and seductively pulled her green uniform dress up over her head and discarded it in the floor, revealing her lithe, firm, slightly brown body in just her lacy mint green panties and bra. She knew exactly how delicious she looked, so she wasn't surprised to feel the eyes of both the Hendersons following her as she walked languidly over to join Sarah on the settee. The fact that Adam was on his feet, towering over them, whilst the two women were siting only served to emphasise his humiliation. Large as he was, he was completely under their control.

"Now," Ellie said, addressing Sarah. "Tell him exactly what you did in the bedroom earlier."

The older woman began, hesitantly.

"Well, as soon as we got in the room he started groping me. I was on fire, wet between the legs already. I ... I'm sorry, I'm not really used to this," she broke off, turning to Ellie.

"You're doing fine," Ellie reassured her. "Just tell him everything you did, exactly what you felt, and exactly what you thought."

Sarah resumed, more confidently, sparing no detail. She even told Adam how she and her lover had talked and laughed about the inadequacy of her husband's cock. Whilst she talked, Ellie reached out and gripped Adam's erection between her thumb and index finger. Very soon, she could feel that he was about to come, and she took her hand away. She repeated that, over and over again, bringing him just to the edge and then denying him, each time laughing at his frustration.

Eventually, Ellie realised that Sarah was reaching the end of her story and this time she took Adam right over the edge, not removing her hand until the instant he began to orgasm. The result was to make his hard little cock twitch and jerk in the air comically, and then with painful slowness it began to spray white cum, in jerky little spurts, all over his wife's black satin slip.

Sarah laughed delightedly.

"Go and clean yourself up," Ellie told Adam dismissively.

"So what did you think?" she asked, turning to Sarah as her husband sidled out of the room. "There's lots more things like that you could do to him if you really want to humiliate him. Lots more."

"That was wonderful," Sarah said. "What you did to him at the end ..."

"It's called a ruined orgasm," Ellie informed her. "He comes, but there's no real pleasure or relief."

"Yes, I see," Sarah giggled. "And I can see I've got a lot to learn. Listen, Ellie, how would you like to come and work as, well, let's say, as my housekeeper? We've got a big old detached Victorian house in Kew that takes a lot of running, and if you took it over then I'd have more time to do other things. I'd double whatever you get paid here, and you'd have a self-contained flat in the basement. And, apart from the housekeeping, you would have full authority over Adam, like just now, or whatever other ideas there are in that naughty head of yours. What do you think?"

Ellie didn't need to think for long, and when Adam returned his wife informed him of what had been agreed. He was not asked for his agreement, which Sarah assumed.

That wasn't all she had assumed, thought Ellie, as she carefully replaced her dress, re-covering her gorgeous young body. Sarah seemed to imagine that Ellie was as easily controlled as her husband. But Ellie had her own ideas about what being the Hendersons' housekeeper would involve, and it included having full authority over more than just Adam. She had enjoyed the chance to humiliate him, the wetness between her legs was testament to that and would enjoy going on doing so, and doing so in more extreme ways, but she also had plans for his rich, arrogant wife.

Sarah was already a cuckoldress, and Adam a cuckold. But neither of them had any idea what a strange little cuckoo they were about to have in their nest.